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Rage infused her veins. “You think I am only concerned about myself?”

He leaned back against the leather desk chair in a casual manner. “What other reason would you have for interfering with my business?”

She scraped back the chair, stood, and glared at him. “Not because it is my life you are turning upside down. Do you even know how many tenants the estates have? Or how many servants work for this family? Do you realize that every one of them might be turned out if you sell the lands?”

“That is not my concern.”

Elizabeth did her best not to run from the room. She had to stand up to the man—make him grasp the lives he could be ruining.

“Indeed it is your concern. One of the duke’s main responsibilities is the welfare of his tenants.” She placed her hands on her hips, waiting his next rejoinder.

He leaned back further and crossed his arms over his chest. “We both know I am not suited to be the duke. Nor do I wish to play duke. My concerns are only for my family and their well-being. The rest of the world can go hang itself.”

“You are a selfish man. You would turn out innocent women and children so you can have your way.”

Will had taken enough of her waspish mouth for one morning. He rose to his full height, forcing her to look up at him.

“I am selfish? Because I put the interests of seven children first? Because I inherited a title that I had no desire for? Because I was forced to come to this detestable country and settle an estate I know and care nothing about?”

She cringed. “I’m sorry.”

Slowly, she returned to her seat and stared at her hands. “I didn’t think about how much all this must have upset your life.”

“Not just my life. My entire family’s life.”

“True.” She licked her lips. “But…”

“What?” he asked as he returned to his seat.

“This could make their lives so much better,” she replied in a soft voice. “I can only assume you have more money as the duke than you did in Canada.”

His fists instinctively tightened. “Perhaps,” he bit out.

“Staying here would give all the children opportunities they would not have in York, or even in America. As the sister of a duke, the girls are inherently accepted into Society. The boys will be welcomed at Eton. They will all have the ability to make great matches.”

“As you have?” The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He knew nothing about her. She could be a widow, after all. But for some reason, he had to know more about her. He found her strangely intriguing.

She glanced down at her hands. “I could have made any number of matches,” she mumbled.

“Of course,” he said in a disbelieving voice.

She looked up at him with fire in her emerald eyes. “I most certainly could have. I haven’t found a man who suited me yet.”

“Ah, being selective.”

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

Will shrugged casually. “It really is none of my concern. However, as I understand these books,” he said, looking down at the desk, “this house is not entailed, nor is it leased. I will be selling it as quickly as possible, so you might wish to decide where you will live. Perhaps with a relative?”

He watched the emotions play on her tight face and felt a stab of remorse. He didn’t want to hurt the woman, but she had to understand that this country was not for him. He also knew that his brothers would never be welcomed at Eton, not as the sons of an American.

“I have four sisters, but I am not close to any of them. They are all much older than I.” She clenched her jaw tightly as if attempting to control her emotions. “My aunt is normally here but departed for a visit. She will go live with her sisters.”

“And you?”

“I suppose I could live with a friend of mine.”

He was being completely insensitive to her plight. Her eyes blinked furiously as if she were attempting to hold her tears at bay.

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