room as he doffed his black hat. "Robinson? What brings you here?" he questioned, ignoring Lydia.

Lydia watched him cross the room to shake the older man's hand. Robinson had gotten to his feet and was clearly uncomfortable with Marston's appearance.

Robinson cleared his throat rather nervously and focused on the floor. Lydia hated to see the man take this stance. Marston loved to see people intimidated. He fed upon it, just as he did now. His expression turned almost cruel as he sneered at the older man.

"Surely in her state of ... mourning ... it would be appropriate to have the guidance of a family member in any legal matter."

"Mr. Robinson was just leaving," Lydia interrupted. She came to the man's side and motioned toward the foyer. "Allow meto show you out."

Marston wasn't going to stand for this. He blocked the doorway. "I'm only looking out for you, Lydia. Was there some question you had about your future?"

She saw the anger course through her stepson. If her father's letter was true, and she had no reason to think it wasn't, then she was free of this man and his siblings. She had no reason to fear him anymore.

Standing her ground, Lydia squared her shoulders. "Now, if you'll excuse us, Mr. Robinson has other important meetings, and I have a headache and intend to lie down."

Marston said nothing more. He pulled back, much to Lydia's surprise, and allowed them to pass. Lydia could feel the man tremble slightly beneath her touch. She felt sorry for him, knowing