Awakening Love Reborn to Be His Duchess (Elowen Hale) novel Chapter 313

Chapter 313 Lydia’s Mistaken Ambition

The visitor was Lydia.

She had only just gotten over her illness, but the moment she heard a palace carriage was coming, she ignored how weak she still felt and hurried down from the inn to meet it.

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Lydia looked up at Elspeth, her voice carefully formal. “Marchioness of Havenstead—oh, wait. I must be forgetting myself. Now that you and Alistair are divorced, you’re not the Marchioness of Havenstead anymore, are you? I’m afraid I don’t know what to call you now.”

Elspeth frowned. She had no patience for this performance. “What do you want, Lydia?”

Lydia lifted her chin. The sickly, pitiable mask she always wore fell away, and her whole manner turned haughty. “I just think your temper is too hard, and you’re too stubborn. You and the Marquess were never a good match. Still, you treated me well enough at Havenstead Manor. So if you ever end up alone and struggling, you can come to me at the manor.”

She paused, looking down on Elspeth as if she were granting a kindness. “For the sake of us both being women, I won’t shut you out. I can at least make sure you live in comfort. But under no circumstances can you see the Marquess again.”

Elspeth stared at her. “Did those medicines damage your brain? Is Alistair really worth all this?”

Lydia stiffened, her voice turning sharp. “He is the Marquess of Havenstead! How many men in this world ever hold a noble title?”

Elspeth answered without hesitation. “In all of Avenlor, since it was founded, excluding the royal family, there have only been twenty–six marquesses, whether granted the title in life or after death.”

Lydia went speechless, thrown by the answer.

After a long pause, she forced herself to recover. “Alistair didn’t just become a marquess. He comes from a distinguished family, and he’s charming and graceful—”

Elspeth thought it over. “Alistair was handsome when he was young. Now he’s just… ordinary. And after twenty–five, he really started to decline. Graceful? Where? All he has going for him now is the beard, and even that only makes him look respectable. If he shaved it…” She paused, distaste showing at the corner of her mouth. “Honestly, without the beard, his face barely holds together.”

Lydia’s fingers curled so tightly her knuckles went white. “You’re only saying that because you’re bitter about the divorce.”

Elspeth casually brushed dust from her fingertips. “You’re too late, Lydia. I had Alistair in his

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19:58 Tue, May 12

Chapter

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years,

ī Lakes Miginker, Ambition

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best when he was at his peak. The man you have now is past it. But if you really think he’s some rare prize, that’s your business.”

Lydia was stunned.

She had only ever heard men talk about women that way. Since when could a woman talk about a man like that?

“You-” Lydia had just started to snap back when the sound of carriage wheels cut her off. The richly adorned palace carriage rolled to a stop in front of them. Quin stepped down, bowed, and held a roll of bright silk in both hands.

A royal decree.

Lydia forgot the argument at once. Every other thought disappeared, leaving only one behind.

In just a moment, I become a Lady of the First Rank.

She steadied her breathing and stepped forward eagerly. “Excuse me, may I ask who you are?”

Quin turned to her, polite but reserved. “I serve His Majesty in court. My name is Quin.”

Lydia couldn’t take her eyes off the decree. “Lord Jett, you’re here to deliver a royal decree, aren’t you?”

Quin nodded. “Yes.”

Lydia pressed on. “But the Marquess isn’t here right now. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

Quin glanced at her, puzzled. The decree isn’t for the Marquess, so why does it matter if he’s not here?

Still, he kept his formal courtesy. “No, it won’t.”

Lydia let out a relieved breath. She straightened, smoothed her hair, and tried to assume a dignified, stately air. “Very well, Lord Jett. I’m ready.”

Quin took in her behavior with quiet confusion, but kept a polite smile. “All right,”

Then he turned straight to Elspeth, cleared his throat, and said in a solemn voice, “My lady, please step forward to receive the royal decree.”

Lydia jerked her head up, stunned. Isn’t this decree for me?

“Lord Jett, there must be some mistake! She and the Marquess are divorced. She’s no longer the Marchioness!”

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