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I want to be anywhere else. I want to be on the road back to Kent. I want to be standing in Adelaide Ashbourne's study again, watching her trace the outline of an orchid and explain a truth I had missed for thirteen years.

Adelaide.

Forcing his focus back to the business at hand, he caught the solicitor's voice mid-sentence: "...the explicit stipulations of the charitable trust deed, Your Grace."

"Specific regarding what requirement?" Julian demanded.

The lead trustee exchanged a brief glance with his colleague while a cold stillness settled in Julian's stomach.

"The Hawthorne Educational Trust was established by your late grandfather," the lead trustee explained smoothly. "Under its provisions, the endowment funding the expedition archive and the conservatory construction carries strict conditions regarding the titleholder."

Julian drew himself up. "I am fully familiar with the deed's provisions and have complied with them."

"Are you certain?" The trustee opened the file before him. "The covenant dictates that the grant be administered by a Duke of Ravensmere who demonstrates, and I quote, 'domestic stability sufficient to assure the perpetual governance and care of the collection and its associated institutions.'"

"I have preserved the collection, secured every international permit, and directed my personal funds into the conservatory project," Julian stated firmly. "What further requirement could possibly remain?"

"A duchess, Your Grace."

The statement hung heavily in the quiet room. Julian stared at the trustee while the solicitor sat in tense silence.

"I beg your pardon?"

"The board has evaluated your recent record," the trustee stated plainly, reviewing his notes. "A near-fatal fever during your last expedition, thirteen years of continuous travel abroad, unmarried status, and the absence of a direct heir. The trust was never intended to finance an enterprise managed by a nobleman whose sudden demise abroad would throw the entire institution into Court of Chancery litigation."

Julian's hands rested tightly against his thighs. "I have named no direct heir because I remain unmarried. That hardly constitutes a breach of law."

"It constitutes an intolerable financial risk," the trustee replied coldly. "Unless Your Grace contracts a marriage prior to departure and appoints your duchess as co-governor of the trust, the board will execute its legal authority."

"To what end?" Julian inquired, his tone dropping dangerously low.

"We shall freeze the endowment's remaining capital, including the final installment for the conservatory construction, and halt all work on the museum site. Furthermore, we shall petition the Court of Chancery to appoint an independent panel of scholars to assume custody of the entire collection until the succession of the dukedom is secured."

Shock settled over Julian as he absorbed the threat.

They do not understand what they are taking.

The collection, the conservatory, Thomas's legacy—all placed at the mercy of committee members who had never set foot beyond the Home Counties.

"You intend to freeze thirteen years of scientific effort simply because I have not taken a wife?"

"We intend to safeguard a charitable trust against administrative collapse," the trustee corrected calmly. "The provisions of the deed are legally binding, Your Grace."

Julian turned toward his solicitor. "Confirm that this is baseless."

The solicitor looked away uncomfortably. "Regrettably, Your Grace, the board acts within its legal rights. The clause was inserted by the late duke, though it was never previously enforced."

"Because the collection did not exist in my father's or grandfather's time!" Julian's voice rang out across the room. "This archive honors my late brother, and the conservatory represents his life's ambition. You propose to freeze it entirely because I have not yet wed?"

"We state simply that you have until your vessel sails to fulfill the covenant," the lead trustee replied smoothly.

Absolute quiet descended upon the chamber. Julian surveyed the seated administrators, recognizing the bureaucratic detachment behind their posture. They were enforcing legal covenants without the slightest comprehension of the blood, sweat, and grief embedded in every pressed leaf and ancient chart.

He recalled Thomas's vision of the conservatory. How he had carried field notes through mountain passes, and that he had cherished Adelaide Ashbourne with transparent devotion. Thomas was gone, leaving Julian alone to preserve what remained of their shared labor.

"What is my deadline?" Julian inquired coldly.

The lead trustee checked his papers. "Your ship sails in two months. The board convenes in three weeks. Should you fail to present an executed marriage settlement appointing your duchess as co-governor by that meeting, the legal injunction will be filed immediately."