Chapter 2 - Midnight Eviction into the Storm
Rain lashed violently against the stone balustrades of Ashbourne Manor as midnight struck on the grandfather clock.
The staff members, loyal to Evelyn for years, kept their heads bowed in grief as the security guards moved in.
William had ordered the estate gates locked behind her carriage the second her luggage touched the gravel driveway.
In the private family wing, nine-year-old Sophia and seven-year-old Clara were already waiting quietly by the stairs.
Clara held the hand of four-year-old Lily, whose small thumb was tucked into her mouth, sensing the heavy tension.
None of the three girls cried, because their mother had raised them to stand tall, no matter the circumstance.
William walked into the foyer, holding an umbrella and checking his gold pocket watch with clear irritation.
“You are taking too long, Evelyn,” he remarked, refusing to look down at his daughters’ faces.
“Father, aren’t you coming with us?” young Sophia asked, her voice steady despite her youthful innocence.
William stiffened, clearing his throat awkwardly as he avoided the child’s piercing, perceptive dark eyes.
“Your mother has different obligations now, Sophia,” he replied flatly, his gaze shifting back toward the stairs.
“You three will accompany her to a quiet countryside cottage where you belong.”
Claire descended the grand staircase wearing Evelyn’s favorite velvet robe, humming a tune with quiet satisfaction.
“William darling, the rain is catching your coat,” Claire purred, resting her hand on the small of his back.
She looked down at the three little girls with thinly veiled contempt, treating them like discarded clutter.
“Make sure they don’t take the family heirlooms in those trunks,” Claire reminded the guards casually.
Evelyn stepped out from the library, wearing a dark cashmere overcoat and holding only three leather folders.
She did not pack the expensive furs, the designer ballgowns, or the sparkling jewelry William had gifted her.
She took only her children’s personal sketchbooks, their birth certificates, and the legal records she had prepared.
When she stood between William and her daughters, her presence dwarfed both the Duke and his new bride.
“Touch my daughters’ luggage again, Claire, and I will have you arrested for grand larceny before dawn,” Evelyn said.
The sheer cold authority in Evelyn’s voice made the head of security instantly step back from the trunks.
Claire scoffed, turning to William for support, but William merely waved his hand to speed up the process.
“Just take them and go, Evelyn,” William muttered, eager to wash his hands of the awkward scene.
“The estate car will drive you to the local station, nothing further.”
“We do not need your car, William,” Evelyn replied calmly, resting a hand on Sophia’s shoulder.
Through the tall glass front doors, the glare of sleek LED headlights cut through the torrential downpour outside.
Two black armored luxury SUVs pulled up to the entrance, their drivers stepping out in immaculate uniforms.
The security guards whispered among themselves, recognizing the private insignia stamped on the vehicle doors.
It was not a cheap regional cab service; it was the elite transport fleet of Vanguard Continental Holdings.
Vanguard was the secretive investment group that had recently bought up sixty percent of Ashbourne’s supply lines.
William squinted through the rain, momentarily puzzled by why such high-profile vehicles were at his gate.
“Who authorized these cars onto private grounds?” William demanded, stepping forward with flared nostrils.
The lead chauffeur ignored the Duke completely, walked directly to Evelyn, and opened the passenger door with a bow.
“Good evening, Madam Director,” the chauffeur said with absolute deference.
“The private terminal is prepped, and the jet to Manhattan is waiting on your departure schedule.”
Claire gasped, her hand dropping from her belly as she stared at the immaculate vehicles in disbelief.
William’s mouth opened slightly, a wave of confusion washing over his prideful features.
“What is this nonsense, Evelyn?” he demanded, reaching out to grab her sleeve.
Evelyn stepped smoothly out of his reach, her eyes locking onto his with absolute, freezing finality.
“You wanted me gone from Ashbourne, Duke Carter,” she whispered, using his formal title like a weapon.
“Now watch me leave.”
She ushered Sophia, Clara, and Lily into the warm, leather-lined interior of the premier vehicle without hesitation.
Before closing the door, she looked at the manor’s imposing facade, which was already beginning to look hollow.
The heavy gates opened wide, and the SUVs roared into the stormy night, leaving William standing in the mud.
Claire wrapped her arms around William’s shoulder, trying to pull his attention back to her and their unborn child.
“Let her go, William,” Claire whispered into his ear.
“She is just putting on a dramatic show to save her wounded pride.”
“We have our son to think about now; the past is officially dead.”
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William nodded slowly, but as the red taillights vanished down the winding driveway, a cold dread seized his chest.
He had expected tears, begging, and poverty; instead, he had just witnessed an imperial departure.
