Reborn: The Duke’s Obsession

Edgar stood up, his movements now slow and a little unsteady, and went to a small wooden drawer in the corner of the room. He brought out a small, velvet-lined box, the very same one he had given her before, the one that held her mother's pearl necklace and a handful of other things, treasures he had kept hidden away for nearly two decades. Delia looked on, confused, as he sat back down and placed them gently on the small table in front of her.

"Here," he said, his voice a soft, raspy whisper.

"What is this?" Delia asked, her eyes scanning the strange, mismatched collection of items. There was a delicate woman's fan made of carved ivory and pale blue silk. There was a small, leather-bound book of poetry, its pages yellowed with age. There was the same single-pearl necklace he had shown her before in the velvet lined box. And there was a small, framed painting, and a creased, yellowed pamphlet that looked like a clipping from an old news about a carriage accident that had three victims. One was found dead, the other one was gravely injured and the last victim was perfectly fine.

"I had nothing else of hers to give you," Edgar explained, his voice full of a deep, sorrowful guilt. "Months after her accident, these were the only things I could collect without raising suspicion."

Delia's trembling hand reached for the painting. It was a miniature portrait of a woman with the most beautiful, vibrant blue eyes she had ever seen—eyes that were a perfect mirror of her own. The woman in the painting was smiling, a gentle, kind expression on her face.

"That is Catherine," Edgar said quietly. "Your mother."

Delia's finger, covered in a soft silk glove, gently traced the outline of her mother's face in the picture. "She is so beautiful," she whispered, the words a soft, wondrous sound.

"Yes," Edgar replied, his own voice thick with emotion. "She had my Henry completely, madly in love with her. I was just too proud, too selfish, too greedy, and too foolish to see it at the time."

A single, hot tear escaped Delia's eye and landed on the glass of the portrait. She quickly, carefully, blotted it away with the edge of her glove so that it wouldn't ruin the precious painting.

"I wanted to give all of this to you the last time you came to see me at my residence," Edgar continued, "but you were so angry with me, and rightly so. I wanted you to be calm before I gave them to you. These are the only pieces of your mother's life I could save."

Delia gently placed the painting back on the table and started to sob, the carefully constructed walls around her heart finally crumbling completely.

"I am so sorry, my child," Edgar said, his own eyes now shining with unshed tears. "I am so, so sorry for my part in all of this."

Delia wiped her tears with the back of her gloved hand. She took a few deep, shuddering breaths, her sorrow slowly hardening into a new resolve. She smiled, a strange, watery expression that did not quite reach her eyes. "There is something that I want, Grandfather," she said, her voice now steady and clear. "Will you give it to me if I ask?"

"What is it, my dear?" Edgar asked. "Anything. I will give you anything."

"I want all of it," Delia replied, her voice now as cold and as hard as steel. "I want all of the Ellington Textile Establishment." She looked at him, her blue eyes now blazing with a fierce, determined fire.

"Before my father, you are the highest authority in the Ellington family. I know that you still hold the majority of the Ellington assets. If you give me your support…"

Edgar chuckled, a short, surprised sound that was quickly followed by a look of deep, profound admiration which made Delia paused for a moment. "I was already planning it, my dear," he confessed.

Delia was shocked. "Really?"

"Yes," Edgar said. "I am already planning to call a meeting with the council of advisors. If I do not do something now, with your father and myself both being so low in health , that woman, Augusta, will try to acquire everything by any means necessary, by nook or by crook. She will swallow the entire establishment up and leave nothing for you." He leaned forward.

"But since the business is going through a very difficult time right now, we can use that to our advantage. We can do it by surprise. We just have to wait for the perfect time to strike."

"The news of the business's troubles will break soon," Delia replied, her own voice now that of a confident strategist. "I heard that the Ellington Textile Establishment asked for a large loan from the Royal Bank, and it was rejected. I am sure that news will cause a temporary, but very significant, blow to the establishment's income and reputation."

Edgar was surprised by her knowledge. "Are you sure about that?"

Delia nodded her head. "Someone I know, my eyes and ears in the Ellington manor, told me about the loan application," she said. "So, I told my husband to use his influence with the bank to find a way to have it rejected."

A worried look crossed Edgar's face. "Your father will be so devastated," he said. "His hard work of the past few years, his dream of reforming the company, it will all look like it is crumbling right in front of him."

" We have to keep it a secret from him, grandfather. If he finds out, his health will worsen." She suggested.

Edgar nodded.

Delia looked sad for a moment, a flicker of guilt passing through her. She knew this part of her plan would hurt her father, the one person in that family who had always been kind to her. But it was a necessary casualty in a war she had to win. She needed to tear down Ellington textile to rebuild it. Her resolve hardened once more. This was for him, too. To free him from the clutches of that woman.