I felt a tear run down my cheek and I wiped it away hastily. I would not cry in front of them. I would not! Do you know what she did instead of answer me? She had the nerve to look down at Simon. Simon! Who was sniveling on the floor like a kicked puppy, who had yet to even get up after I'd nearly strangled him to death — my one regret in life is that I didn't squeeze harder and end it all.
"Is the right reason to marry someone just for his title?" I asked, jealously and anger filled my voice. I heard footsteps coming up the hallway behind me and I knew someone would enter soon, see the scene, and accuse me of being the instigator. No one would care about the truth. No one would ask me my side of events. It was Anthony's house. What he said would go no matter if it was the right course of events or not.
Her eyes met mine and fire burned within them. "How could you think so little of me?"
It was obvious. If she had married for love, she would have married me. It was as simple as that. But Simon would be Baron Enhurst someday and, with that, laid security. Security I assume she didn't believe I could give her.
The door burst open, and a gruff man asked us what in the world was happening. I'm sure it was a rather strange scene. A disheveled Anthony standing next to the untidy book case. Me kneeling next to Miss Rebecca who sat on the floor next to a fallen Simon Hartwell. I can imagine now how our little drama must have appeared. At the time, I could have cared less.
"Frederick, you need to go," Anthony said. It appeared he had much more courage now that he had back-up. That back-up, I soon learned was his father — the friend of my father. If I cared, I could have asked him if Anthony's accusations were true, but in all honesty, I didn't want to know. I wanted to go through life pretending I wasn't the bastard son of a duke. I didn't want him believing that I believed Anthony because then he would go and tell — then how could my mother blackmail him? I'd lose everything and gain nothing. Some sins are best kept to yourself.
"Not without Rebecca," I answered stubbornly. "I'm not leaving her with you two."
"She's my cousin," Anthony replied. "I would never harm her."
I stood then, unable to be still any longer. "And yet, look what you've done."
"Young man." Of course Anthony's father had to have a turn at me. "You have disrupted this party enough. I wish you to leave. You are no longer welcome in my home."
I looked down at Rebecca again who made no attempts to get up and keep me from going. Instead, she held on to Simon's hand and with the other wiped the hair from his forehead. She'd made her choice. She chose entitlement over love and I knew there was nothing I could do to change her mind.
I walked to the door then turned and faced the people who had meant the most to me in my life up until that point. My friend, Anthony — the betrayer. My love, Rebecca — who loved me, but did not choose me. "Know this. This isn't the end. I will have justice — justice from you, Anthony Wexley and you, Simon Hartwell. I am a patient man and I can wait for years if I must, but know this, what you have done tonight — what you have done to Rebecca — I can never forgive you for. You took the thing, the person, who meant the most to me — and I will do the same to you."
Anthony spoke next. "Drop this, Frederick. It isn't as it appeared. Rebecca loves—"
"Me." I replied more certain than I'd ever been in my life. "Rebecca loves me, and you took her from me. You and that coward on the floor, and I will have my justice."
With that, I left. I walked past Anthony's father and out through the crowd that had gathered outside the study. Obviously, they had heard us arguing and came to check what all the commotion was about. I didn't look at any of them. I didn't want to see their faces and I most assuredly didn't want them to see mine. It took everything I had to hold back the tears until I walked out of the front door and into the cold. Thankfully, I suppose if you can think of any of this as a good thing, I still had my top coat on. I didn't know what I'd do if I had to go back inside.
I walked for what seemed like an eternity, not sure where to go. I knew where I needed to go, but I didn't want to. Finally, after becoming so chilled I could barely feel my toes, I made my way back home where I confronted my mother.
She lied to me at first. She said Anthony didn't know what he was talking about. But then, with a little bit of coaxing, the truth came out. It was even more truth than I imagined possible.
You see, my mother confessed to being a prostitute in Everdale. Her family had died leaving her an orphan at a very young age and the only way to make money was to sell herself. It was either that or starve: what would you have done?
One day, a man came to pay her a visit. She recognized him immediately as the Duke of Monroe, but said nothing to him about it. She became with child and contacted him after my birth. He didn't believe that I was his, seeing as she was a prostitute and all, but somehow she convinced him. My mother had a special way about her. Maybe that's where I got it? I like to think I carry some of her traits in me. She was a remarkable woman.