Reborn: The Duke's Obsession-Chapter 42 - Forty Two

The weekend arrived with a heavy sense of dread for some and anticipation for others. The grand Ellington carriage looked entirely out of place as it came to a stop in front of a simple, clean, but undeniably humble building on the outskirts of the city. As Augusta stepped down onto the dusty road, the driver and footman worked together to carefully place Baron Henry into a wheelchair.

They looked up at the faded wooden sign hanging above the door: "The Needy Orphanage."

Henry turned to his wife, his face a mask of confusion. "Are we in the right place, Augusta?" he asked, his voice weak. "Why would the Duchess want to meet us here?"

They looked around, seeing small groups of children playing in the yard, their laughter bright and cheerful despite their simple, mended clothes. Orphanage staff watched over them with kind, attentive eyes. It was a place of care, but it was a world away from the drawing rooms where such introductions were meant to happen.

Augusta’s lip curled in a subtle sneer. She scanned the yard and saw two elegantly dressed women walking towards them from the main building. "Here they come," she said, her voice tight. She placed her hands on Henry’s wheelchair handles and began to push him forward.

The Duchess and the Dowager Duchess, Eric’s grandmother, walked towards them with graceful, unhurried steps. The Dowager Duchess, a woman with kind demeanor and an air of authority, greeted them first.

"Oh, you’ve made it," she said with a warm smile. "We are so glad you could come."

Augusta and Henry both inclined their heads in a respectful bow. "Your Grace," they said in unison.

Lyra, Eric’s mother, spoke next. "Thank you for coming all this way," she said, her gaze polite but assessing.

"It is no problem at all," Henry replied, always the diplomat. "It’s quite quiet and peaceful here."

"That was the idea," the Dowager Duchess explained. "If we were to meet somewhere more crowded, like a tea shop or a restaurant, there might be strange rumors. We thought a more humble and private setting like this might be better for a frank conversation."

Augusta could not hold back her disdain. "Actually, I don’t understand at all," she said, her voice sharp and accusatory. "If you truly wanted to take our child as your daughter-in-law, you would not treat us like this. This is hardly a respectful venue for a meeting between two prominent families."

Henry looked at his wife, mortified. "Augusta!" he hissed. "How can you be so rude?"

"No," Lyra said, holding up a hand to stop Henry’s apology. She looked directly at Augusta, her eyes sharp. "You understand what’s going on perfectly well, Baroness. It seems you are the actual one who runs the Ellington household."

She moved closer and, in a gesture that was both a peace offering and a power move, held out her hand. "I am Lyra Carson."

Augusta, taken aback by the direct confrontation, took her hand in a brief, firm shake. "I am Augusta Ellington."

Just then, the main door of the orphanage opened again. Eric came outside, looking dashing as always in a perfectly tailored attire. On his arm, looking poised and beautiful in a simple but elegant dress, was Delia. Augusta looked at Delia, a silent challenge passing between them. Delia returned the gaze with the same cool intensity, refusing to be intimidated.

Henry, trying to lighten the incredibly tense mood, looked around. "Are we all here then?"

"My sister is on her way," Eric replied, his hand giving Delia’s a reassuring squeeze.

As if on cue, another, even more stylish carriage stopped in front of the gate. "There she is," Eric said with a smile.

A footman helped a fashionably dressed Amber down from the carriage. She smoothed her dress, gave a bright smile to her family, and joined the group.

"Shall we go in?" the Dowager Duchess said, gesturing towards the building.

As they walked inside, Augusta could not hide her disgust. She subtly pulled her skirts away from a wall as if it might soil them, and her nose wrinkled at the simple, clean smell of laundry soap and porridge.

Lyra, walking beside her, noticed every gesture, and her own expression grew colder, more annoyed. freёwebnoѵel.com

Now seated in the orphanage’s simple but clean reception room, they were all served tea by a grateful-looking staff member.

Henry began the conversation. "Our other daughter, Anne, is not feeling well today, so she unfortunately could not make it."

"It’s quite alright," Lyra responded graciously.

"I want to thank you for taking the time for this introduction," Henry continued, his gaze turning to the Dowager Duchess. "And I must say, I have heard a great deal about the foundations and orphanages you have donated to over the years. You give these children hope at being happy again."

The Dowager Duchess smiled warmly. "It is the least we can do with the blessings we have been given."

"It is an incredible, noble thing," Henry replied with sincere admiration. He gently nudged Augusta, who had been pointedly ignoring the conversation and playing with her teacup.

She let out a barely audible sigh and put on a fake, brittle smile. "Yes, I’m learning a great deal today," she said, her voice dripping with false sincerity.

Lyra looked up from her teacup, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Seeing how the great Carson family can be so... humble," Augusta continued, "and hearing you all speak so informally, it makes me look back on myself and my own rigid ways."

Lyra set her teacup down with a soft click. "Earlier," she said, her voice dangerously calm, "you said that if we really wanted to take in your daughter, we would not be treating you like this."

Augusta smiled, unfazed. "Ah, yes. I misspoke for a moment. I was merely feeling disappointed on behalf of my daughter. But I understand now. Any prestigious family would be dying for their child to be the Carson’s daughter-in-law, no matter the circumstances."

"We are not that shallow, Baroness," the Dowager Duchess replied gently. "If the two young people like each other, then that is the most important thing. They can—"

"But," Augusta cut her off, her voice sharp as she went in for the kill. She looked around the room, making sure she had everyone’s attention. "You must know that Delia is an illegitimate child."

The cruel, unnecessary statement landed in the room with a sickening thud. The air crackled with tension. Amber, who had just been taking a sip of her tea, choked on it, coughing into her napkin, her eyes wide with shock at the blatant cruelty.

Lyra didn’t flinch. She simply looked at Augusta with an expression of cold, hard disdain.

"So what?" she asked, her voice quiet but ringing with authority. "That is not Delia’s fault, is it?"

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