Reborn: The Duke’s Obsession

After the study door was closed, leaving Eric and Aiden alone, Duke Nelson's voice could be heard from the hallway, his tone full of fatherly pride. "Eudora, my dear, your hospitality is always a blessing." They could hear Eudora response. " Thank you, father."

Eric's polite, professional smile dropped the instant he was no longer being watched. He looked at the glass of water and the plate of delicate pastries that Eudora had so thoughtfully placed in front of him. They were a clear, unmistakable gesture of her favor.

"Dispose of it," he said to Aiden, his voice low and flat.

Aiden looked at the untouched refreshments. "It is not good to waste food, Your Grace," he replied, always the idealist. "If you do not want them, I will eat them myself." Without waiting for a reply, Aiden took the glass of water and the plate of pastries, quickly finishing them off as if they were his own.

A few minutes later, Duke Nelson came back into the study, carrying their own neatly sealed copy of the agreement. " We will discuss on the colors, quality, quantity, crates, durations and so on for the next shipment of the dyes." He said as he got to his seat.

Eric nodded. "indeed. That won't be a problem."

Nelson gave Eric the copy and Aiden collected it, his face a mask of perfect, professional decorum. Eric and Aiden both stood up, the meeting now concluded.

"Until tomorrow, then, Your Grace," Eric said, extending his hand. They shook, the handshake firm and final.

"Until tomorrow," Nelson nodded. " Your Grace."

As Eric and Aiden got to the grand, open-air front entrance of the villa, Eudora was suddenly there, her expression bright and cheerful. "Your Grace," she said, her voice like a sweet melody. Before he could react, she took his arm, her grip surprisingly firm for such a delicate-looking young woman. "Would you love to stay for lunch?" she asked, her eyes shining with a hopeful, girlish excitement. " The kitchen is making something special. I'm sure you will love it."

Eric looked down at her hand, wrapped around his arm. He smiled, a polite but distant expression. He then gently, but with an undeniable finality, removed her hand from his arm.

"Lady Eudora," he began, his voice still polite but with a new, cool edge to it. "I appreciate the very kind offer, but please. You are making me a little uncomfortable with your closeness and your gestures."

He then subtly flashed the simple gold wedding band on his left hand, the light of the Eastern Isles sun glinting off its polished surface. "I am a married man," he said, his voice simple and clear. "And my wife, the Duchess, would not be happy to hear that I am getting too comfortable with other women while I am on a business trip. So please don't do such things near me again."

He left Eudora standing there, her own smile frozen on her face, and went to the waiting carriage without a backwards glance.

"How many days are we scheduled to be here?" he asked Aiden, his voice a little impatient as the carriage began to move, leaving the grand villa behind.

"At least a week, Your Grace," Aiden replied, consulting a small notebook. "Because of the production and shipment discussions. They must be very detailed."

"My own presence is not essential for those discussions, right?" Eric asked.

"Not really, Your Grace," Aiden confirmed. "You have already signed the main contract. I think that is all that truly matters for now. I can handle the rest of the details."

"Good," Eric replied, a look of relief on his face. "You will handle the remaining things here. Get me a ticket for the next ship that is going back to Albion."

Aiden flipped through his notebook again. "I believe that will be the day after tomorrow, Your Grace. The Eastern Isles are celebrating a national holiday starting tomorrow, so no ships will be available for departure. Only incoming vessels are permitted."

Eric groaned, leaning his head back against the plush velvet seat in frustration. Two more days. It felt like an eternity.

They rode in silence for a while, the rhythmic clopping of the horses' hooves a steady beat against the quiet road. Aiden decided to broach a subject that had clearly been on his mind.

"Your Grace," he began, his tone a little hesitant. "If I may be so bold to ask… are you planning to quit the dye company and go back to the Carson Textile Establishment?"

Eric looked at him, his expression turning guarded. "What brought about this question, Aiden?"

"The rumors have been going around for some time, Your Grace," Aiden replied honestly. "And…you were very reluctant to collaborate with your brother, Duke Philip, for the new spring line collection. But in the end, you did it anyway. It seemed out of character for you. You never wanted to part of Carson establishment even when your brother wanted to terminate the contract you immediately went to fight for it."

"I did it because I saw it as a good business opportunity," Eric replied, his voice a little too defensive. "A way to put my company's name out there even further,to spread it more in Albion and…"

"And it was what your grandmother, the Dowager Duchess, wanted," Aiden interrupted him softly.

Eric was silent, because he knew that Aiden had gotten him. Aiden had seen the truth.

"She just wanted to see her grandsons working together again," Aiden continued, his voice full of a respectful sympathy. "And you don't want to disappoint her again especially after she was heartbroken when you left Carson establishment."

Eric, wanting to deflect from this uncomfortable topic, changed the subject back to business. "Write a letter to Mr. Rye," he commanded, his voice now crisp and professional again. "Tell him to send all the necessary documents for the next shipment to the port tomorrow morning, since I will not be able to make it back in time to do them myself."

Aiden, knowing the private conversation was now over, simply bowed his head. "Yes, Your Grace."