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I have mentioned how naive I was in my
younger days. I should have put it all together, but I still reeled
from the excitement of the night to fully understand what was going
on.

"You are the bastard son of a duke,
Frederick. The bastard son of a married duke who already has two
sons ahead of you in birth order. His wife would not allow him to
claim you, and your mother blackmailed him into paying everything
for you — or she would tell."

"Then how does everyone know?"

"It's a rumor. Nothing more. But it is a
rumor my father believes for he is the friend of Duke Monroe. I
overheard a conversation between our fathers a month ago. I heard
Duke Monroe tell my father you were his son — his greatest
sin."

I didn't know what to say to that, if you can
imagine. Not only had I learned my true father had never wanted me,
but I learned he thought of me as a sin. I was sure my birth had
been quite scandalous and my true father had done everything to
keep it quiet. It made sense if I wanted to think about it, which I
didn't.

All my life, I had wanted, dreamed of, prayed
to be in the gentry. It would have made my life so much easier, I
reasoned. But when I learned it was actually true, all of my
problems — none of them went away. None disappeared. In fact, it
gave me more problems.

"I can't claim a title." I said
matter-of-factly. I knew how the world worked. Yes, if it was true,
and I believed it was, I was the son of a duke. However, a bastard
son, third in line, was little more than a servant. If I confronted
my father, not only would he stop being my benefactor, he could
only allow me to live in his home as little more than a servant. I
was no man's servant.

Letting all of this swim in my mind, I
remembered Rebecca, my sweet, sweet Rebecca, behind me. I turned
slowly, still not certain what to say exactly. When I saw her, she
had bent down to Simon and rubbed his back to help him breathe
better. She was nice like that. Always helping people she didn't
love. "Rebecca," I said as my voice shook. I hated how it sounded,
but I couldn't leave to compose myself. It was now or never.
"Rebecca, this means nothing. Do you understand? Even if what
Anthony told you is true, it matters not. I am still the same
Frederick Dodsworth who professed my love to you. I'm the same man
who wants to marry you. No, I don't have a title and yes, I'm a
bastard child, but… it doesn't change how I feel about you. My
future does not have to depend on my past, on circumstances I had
no control over."

I took a few steps forward and bent down so
our eyes were level. "Please, Rebecca. Please look into your heart
and know what I am saying is true. Please know that I would never
hurt you. I will always look out for you. I have a future. A good
future. Please don't let this one thing that happened in my past
keep you from me." I gently took her hand in mine, careful not to
squeeze as I had her shoulders. As I looked down, I saw black and
blue marks on her wrist and felt sick to my stomach. I would kill
Simon for hurting her in that way. Yes, I grabbed her wrists
outside, but there was no way I could have bruised her. I wouldn't
have done that…

So it had to have been Simon.

I barely rubbed my thumb over her wrists,
careful not to apply pressure and hurt her. I never wanted to hurt
her and I never would — not like Simon Hartwell. He hurt her until
the day she died and I will never forgive him for that.

"Please… Understand that I do not beg often,
in fact, I don't recall any other time in my life when I begged so
much, but I need you to know how much you mean to me. If you do not
know it by now, I have no idea how to tell you. I love you with my
whole heart, mind, and soul. I will love you until the day I die."
I brought her hand to my lips and kissed her knuckles, willing her
to believe me. Willing her to not care about my heritage. "Forget
it all. Forget what Anthony told you. Forget what you know or think
you know about me. Just feel… with your heart. Know what you know
to be true. Marry me."

I waited with her hand in mine for what
seemed like an eternity. The flicker of hope I had in my stomach
kept burning despite the fear I had coursing through my mind.

Finally, my Rebecca brought my hand to her
lips and kissed it gently, just as I had hers. I thought for a
moment that she had listened to reason and she was declaring to be
mine. Heavens, I wanted her to tell the world what we both knew.
"Frederick," she said as she placed my hand on my lap. "What you
have said means the world to me. It truly does and I am very
flattered. However…"

I can't tell you how much I didn't want her
to continue her sentence. I wanted to live in the happy bliss of
not knowing. I felt as though my heart would shatter in a million
pieces and I would never recover. She hesitated before she spoke
again. "However, I must marry for the right reasons."

I stuttered a bit, trying to find the right
words. "The right reasons? What more right reason is there to marry
someone besides love?"

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.

Anyway, she confirmed what Anthony had told
me as true. I had no father who loved me before I was even born as
she had previously told me. My father had paid for sex from my
mother. Nothing more. Nothing less.

I'm sure you can imagine how difficult it was
for me to sleep that night. My friend's betrayal and my own new
lineage weighed heavily on my mind. Since I could not sleep, I
stayed awake deciding how to get my revenge. At first I
contemplated murder. I'm not entirely proud of that, but Rebecca
could not marry Simon if he were dead.

But then I decided on something better.
Something they would never see coming.

You see, I know Rebecca loved me just as I
loved her, but she made her choice. She chose money and a title
over love, and I would have to find a way to make her see the error
of her ways.

By the time the sun came up, I was ready to
set my plan into motion. I still had time to get her away from
Simon. I just had to make her see that I could take care of
her.

A few weeks later
, I
learned Rebecca had married Hartwell. Just like that. No long
engagement. No proper ceremony. I could barely find the energy to
get out of bed the next morning. Up until that time, I had still
held onto hope that she would change her mind and follow her heart.
Her heart led to me, I knew it did. But after the announcement
came, I knew better.

That's when the wheels began spinning faster
in my mind. If Rebecca had been a pocket watch or some other
possession, Simon and Anthony both would have been thrown in jail
for thievery. The same went for Rebecca — she was my possession, my
own personal love, and they had conspired to take her away from me.
Anthony knew exactly what he was doing when he told her I was the
bastard son of a duke. He knew it… He'd done it to keep me from
marrying her because he didn't feel I was good enough for her.

I'd show him how good I was…

A few months later, I went to a party thrown
by Edward Lofton, one of the richest men in all of Darenset — a
very important thing to me, indeed, for this man had no title. He
had gained his wealth from ownership of a textile factory and, at
the time I assumed, luck. I met his daughter there, a naive little
thing named Cecelia. She was nothing like Rebecca. Her hair wasn't
nearly as spectacular. Her face was a bit too tanned and she had
one tooth in the bottom of her mouth that crooked behind the
other.

Still…

She seemed smitten with me, and I played the
part of smitten lover back. I knew I could never love another woman
as I had loved Rebecca, but I also knew that to get anywhere in
life, I needed to marry — marry well — and have a family. You may
see the irony in this after how ill I thought Rebecca for doing the
same, but my heart had hardened. If I couldn't have love with
Rebecca, then I would have to settle for money and power. To get
that power, I had to marry well and that meant, putting all of my
feelings and disgust aside and marrying the mousey Cecelia
Lofton