Reborn: The Duke's Obsession-Chapter 47 - Forty Seven

"Brother!" Amber stood up so quickly her chair almost toppled over. She ran to the man who had just entered and threw her arms around him in an enthusiastic hug.

The Dowager Duchess smiled warmly from her seat. "Welcome home, Philip."

Philip returned his sister’s hug, a look of deep affection on his face. "It’s good to be back." Amber gently dragged him by the arm over to her seat, shifting her chair over so he could take his place at the table.

Philip sat down, placing his elegant cane carefully against the table leg. "Thank you, Grandma," he said politely. He then turned his amused gaze to his younger sister. "You didn’t go out to socialize today? Is the world ending?"

Amber shook her head, her earlier good mood restored by his presence. "I’m not in the mood to. How is your treatment coming along? Is it helping?"

"It’s coming along just fine," Philip answered, patting the back of her hand reassuringly. He then looked at his mother, who was still lost in thought, a faint frown on her face. He turned back to Amber. "By the way, how did the family introduction for Eric go yesterday? Was it as dramatic as I imagined?"

Amber leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a low whisper. "The girl, Delia, she seems all right. Quite clever, actually. But her mother," she said, her eyes wide, "I don’t like her at all."

"Really? How so?" Philip asked, intrigued.

"She acts like a villain from one of my books," Amber whispered dramatically. Then she shuddered, as if shaking off an unpleasant thought, and turned her attention back to their mother. "Anyways, Mama, you’re fine with the marriage now, right?"

Lyra, breaking off from her thoughts, looked at her daughter. "We’ll see," she said vaguely.

Amber gave her mother a sly, knowing smile. "What? I thought you liked her. Mama, you are really connected to her, you know."

Lyra’s face flushed slightly. "What connection?"

"I saw everything yesterday," Amber laughed, teasing her mercilessly. "You two were exchanging eye contacts across the room like a long-lost mother and daughter finally reuniting."

"What are you talking about?" Lyra said, her voice full of exasperation. "If you are going to use this introduction to pester me all day, it’s better you just go to your room."

Amber sank back in her chair with a forkful of melon and a wide, triumphant smile. She had successfully flustered her mother. The Dowager Duchess looked at Lyra with a knowing smile of her own, while Philip sat there quietly, taking in all the new information with a thoughtful expression.

The next day, in the dusty, sunlit interior of the abandoned tea shop, Owen was happily devouring a perfectly roasted fish that Delia had brought him.

"So, how did it go, my lady?" he asked, his mouth full.

Delia took a sip of her water, watching the boy eat with an almost motherly fondness.

Owen continued without looking up. "You got the Duchess’s attention, right? I heard there was quite a scene."

"How did you..." Delia began, still amazed by his network.

"Are you forgetting that the printing press has eyes and ears everywhere?" Owen replied, grinning. "A story about two duchesses almost coming to blows over a mysterious young lady is hot gossip. It travels fast." He tore off another piece of fish. "I somehow knew you could do it, though." He licked his fingers with a loud, satisfying smack. He finally looked up at her, his curiosity getting the better of him. "But how? How did that strict woman look at you and decide you should call your family for an introduction? How did you do it?"

A flashback to the moment after the duchess left Eric’s residence and proposed a condition popped into her mind, as clear as day.

~ FLASHBACK BEGINS ~

Lyra had been about to enter her carriage when Delia had called out to her. The Duchess had turned, her expression unreadable.

"Let’s do it," Lyra had announced. "A formal family introduction. With everyone. This weekend."

Delia’s heart had leaped with hope. "Really?"

"On one condition," Lyra had said, her voice dropping low. "Can you keep a secret from Eric?"

Delia had nodded immediately, her full attention on the Duchess. "Yes, Your Grace. Please tell me."

Lyra had looked at her, her gaze sharp and assessing, as if weighing Delia’s worth. "I will give you six months," she had stated. "In those six months, I want you to convince Eric to come back to the family business, to the Carson Textile Establishment. He needs to take his rightful place as its head." She had paused. "If you can do that, then I will accept you as my daughter-in-law without any further complaint. But if you can’t," Lyra’s eyes had hardened, "I hope you are honorable enough to walk out on your own, Delia."

The condition was a huge, almost impossible task. Delia’s heart had sunk, but she had not let it show on her face.

"Will that be difficult?" Lyra had asked, testing her resolve.

Delia had met her gaze without flinching. "No, Your Grace. I’ll do as you say."

"Very well," Lyra had replied, a flicker of something that looked like respect in her eyes, before she finally entered her carriage and drove away.

~ FLASHBACK ENDS ~

"It was nothing," Delia said to Owen, pushing the memory away. "I just..."

Owen finished the last of the fish and wiped his hands on a napkin. He had a keen sense for when people were not telling him the whole truth, but he knew better than to push his benefactor.

Delia, trying to sound casual, asked him a question. "Do you think His Grace will ever leave his dye business and go back to the family textile establishment?"

Owen looked at her, surprised by the random question. "Why? Did you hear a rumor about it?"

Delia shook her head. "No, no. I’m just curious, that’s all."

Owen shrugged. "That won’t happen," he said with certainty. "From what I know, the Dowager Duchess chose him to be the successor to the family business years ago because she saw the most potential in him. But he left to start his own business instead." He shook his head. "He’s too proud and too stubborn. He won’t come back now... at least, not for Duke Philip’s sake."

Owen got up and started trying on some of the new outfits Delia had bought for him, which were neatly folded on a nearby chair.

"Duke Philip?" Delia asked, puzzled by the name.

Owen nodded, his back to her as he struggled with the buttons on a new shirt.

"Duke Eric’s older brother?" she clarified.

"Yes," Owen replied, his voice slightly muffled.

A wave of confusion washed over Delia. This was new information. "So what happened? Are they not on good terms?"

"I’m not really sure about all that," Owen admitted. "That kind of family business is kept very quiet. The shirt is too tight."

Delia looked at the young boy, his serious, strategic mind now focused on the simple problem of a shirt button. Her expression softened. He came over to her, holding out the shirt. "Can you help me?"

"Of course," she smiled. She stood up and expertly worked the buttons, her fingers nimble and quick. He was just a child, after all, a brilliant and resourceful child who was helping her navigate a world of sharks, but a child nonetheless.

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