Reborn: The Duke's Obsession-Chapter 286 - Two Hundred And Eighty Six

The echo of the front door closing softly behind Victoria was a sound of absolute finality. The sound of her carriage leaving the premises filled the room till it dissipated.

"Oh my goodness, we are doomed," Mrs. Pembroke whispered, the words a choked, horrified breath. Her strength gave out, and she sank to her knees on the floor, her hands covering her face as deep, racking sobs began to shake her entire body.

Evelin rushed to her side, trying to offer comfort, though her own face was pale with shock and fear.

George stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the empty doorway where the love of his life had just disappeared. The scent of the cooling stew, once so delicious now seemed to mock him. A fire of shame and rage began to burn in his gut. He turned, his gaze landing on Anne, who was still sitting calmly at the table, a silent, smug witness to the destruction she had caused.

Without a word, he strode over to her, grabbed her by the arm, and hauled her out of the chair. He dragged her out of the dining room, past his weeping mother and his shocked sister, and into his own small room at the back of the house. He shoved her inside and closed the door with a sharp click, trapping them together in the tense, suffocating space.

The moment he let go, Anne wrenched her arm out of his grasp, rubbing the spot where his fingers had dug into her skin. A cruel, mocking smirk twisted her lips.

"How impressive, George," she taunted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I've been gone for a few months, and you've already got yourself another woman. A Duke's daughter, no less. You move fast."

George didn't answer her. His back was to her, his hands braced against the wall as he tried to control the storm of emotions raging inside him. He finally turned, his face a mask of pale, desperate anguish. "Is the child really mine?" he asked, his voice raw.

Anne scoffed.

He took a step closer, his eyes pleading for some kind of answer that could undo this nightmare. "You hated me," he said, his voice cracking. "You always said I was a failure, that I wouldn't amount to anything. You looked at me with nothing but contempt. If that was how you truly felt towards me, why? Why are you having my child?"

Anne's smirk vanished, replaced by a look of raw bitterness. Her voice was a low, venomous whisper. "I didn't know it was yours," she said.

George stared at her, confused. "What?"

"I didn't want to believe it either!" she suddenly shouted, her own control snapping. She held her swollen stomach, her expression one of utter disgust. "That I'm having your child. The child of a man I can't even stand to look at. Believe me, George, this is a nightmare for me, too."

George inhaled deeply, the air shuddering in his lungs, and then exhaled slowly. The fight drained out of him, leaving behind a hollow, aching emptiness. He had his answer. It was true. "So," he asked, his voice flat and defeated, "what do you want now?"

Anne's smirk returned. "I have nowhere to go," she said, her voice full of a cold, triumphant certainty. "I'm going to live here."

"Says who?" George retorted weakly.

"Will you kick me out, then?" she shot back, taking a step towards him, her belly a clear and undeniable challenge. "When I'm carrying your child? Your heir? What will the society think of you then?"

George was speechless, confused, trapped. There was nothing he could do. He stumbled back and sat heavily on the edge of his bed, putting his face in his hands, his shoulders slumping in utter defeat.

Anne looked at him, a broken man in a small, plain room. "What?" she asked, her voice laced with a cruel satisfaction. "Do you regret it now? Does this whole situation feel… frustrating to you?" She let out a laugh, but it was a terrible sound, filled with its own pain, sadness, and the shimmer of unshed tears. "You don't even know what frustrating is yet. Not really."

George slowly raised his head to look at her, at the tears of rage and misery now tracking down her own cheeks.

"Wait until you're raising a child in this tiny, pathetic house," she continued, her gaze sweeping the room with disgust. "Wait until you hear it crying all night and you have no money for a nurse. Wait until you see me every single day, a constant reminder of how you destroyed your own life." Her voice dropped to a menacing whisper. "Then you will know what real hell is. And I will make sure your entire family goes down with me."

George stared at her, at the ruin she promised to bring upon them. He let out a low chuckle, which then grew into a full, hollow laugh. It was a laugh devoid of all humor, a sound of pure, self-loathing despair. He was laughing at his own stupidity, at the single, drunken mistake that had cost him everything.

The next day, the air in the visiting room of Newcastle Prison was cold and smelled of despair. Anne sat opposite her mother, a thick pane of glass between them.

Augusta, thinner and paler but with the same fire of resentment in her eyes, leaned forward.

"So, are you really going to stay with those people?" Augusta asked, her voice a sharp, incredulous whisper through the small grate. "In that hovel? You can't stay somewhere like that."

Anne, who had been staring blankly at the grey wall, looked at her mother with disdain. "Do you have any better ideas?"

Augusta's eyes darted around the room before she lowered her voice even more. "Of course. You should have faked the evidence, said the child was Philip's! Or get some dirt on Philip, something he did that Eric doesn't know about, and use it to blackmail the family!" Her eyes gleamed with a familiar, obsessive light. "Delia seems to be doing very well for herself after she ruined our lives. We have to make them pay."

Anne rolled her eyes, a gesture of weary contempt. "What has that got to do with me?" she asked, her voice flat.

Augusta looked at her, stunned. "Aren't you mad? Don't you want to see them suffer for what they've done to us?"

"If I am, then what?" Anne retorted. "You want me to avenge you or something? Your war is over, Mama. You lost." 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

"Why not?" Augusta demanded, her voice rising. "They took everything from us! You can use the child! It's the perfect weapon!"

Anne was silent looking at her.

She looked at her daughter's apathetic face with growing frustration. "You can't do this, and you can't do that… then why are you even here? What was the point of coming to see me?"