Chapter 163 - Hundred And Sixty Three

Words : 1007 Updated : Sep 29th, 2025

"Should I just arrest the Pembroke family?" Eric thought to himself then he shook his head. " But then I won’t catch Anne and use it against Philip." He let out a sigh. The heavy oak door of his study was a formidable barrier, but the knocks that sounded upon it were hesitant, lacking any real conviction. Eric, hunched over a large, open ledger on his desk, didn’t even look up. The only sound in the room was the steady, rhythmic scratching of his pen as it moved across the paper, tallying figures from a recent shipment. "Enter," he replied, his voice calm and preoccupied. The door opened, and his aide, Aiden, stepped in, followed by a pale and nervous-looking Lord George Pembroke. Aiden bowed his head respectfully towards his master. "Lord Pembroke is here to see you, Your Grace." Eric replied without looking up, his concentration still on the ledger he was reviewing. " Alright. Thank you Aiden. You may go." Aiden then bowed, stepped aside, holding the door open, and left, closing it softly behind him, leaving George standing alone in front of Eric’s imposing desk. The silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable, broken only by the relentless scratching of Eric’s pen. He was deliberately making George wait, a simple but effective display of power. Since their last meeting did not yield anything significant, he decided to wait to hear George’s reason for his visit. Finally, George, his eyes fixed on the intricate pattern of the Persian rug, spoke. "I have... I have stopped the production and the circulation of the pamphlet," he said, his voice a low, miserable mumble. "The one containing my sister’s terrible gossip. And I have talked to her. I have made sure that she will never, ever do anything like this again." Eric’s pen finally stopped moving. He placed it down with a soft, deliberate click and looked up at George, his expression cold and unimpressed. "So?" he asked, his voice flat. "Is that all?" George was silent, his gaze still glued to the floor. "Will that stop the impression society has on my wife and I?" Eric asked, his expression growing more colder, his gaze boring directly into George’s soul. But George kept still quiet. He didn’t know what to say because he didn’t have anything to say. "The rumors that your family started while you were keeping so conveniently quiet are now all over the place," Eric continued, his voice a low, dangerous monotone. "They are spreading like a plague through every level of society. In the common tea houses, there are disgusting stories about my wife that are being told as if they were fact. In Inns and taverns, in parks and social gatherings, the whispers continue. In the business world, I am being made a laughingstock because of the actions of your family. My own business partners are beginning to question the stability of my new marriage, of my home. Some say that if I can’t keep the stability of my home then I wont be able to keep the stability of my business." He leaned forward, his gaze sharp and unforgiving. "And your pathetic apology is supposed to fix all of that? Your ’sorry’ is supposed to make everything go back to normal?" "How... how can I make it up to you, Your Grace?" George replied, his own voice now a desperate, pleading whisper. "I have already told you how, during our last meeting at that dreadful tavern, Lord George." Eric replied. "Give me proof that Anne Ellington was the one who was truly involved, who was the mastermind in this scheme." "Anne wasn’t involved," George replied, the lie coming out in a rush. Eric was so surprised by the sheer, idiotic stubbornness of the man before him that he could only stare. "What did you say?" he asked. "It was all my fault," George continued, finally looking up, his own eyes full of a strange, misplaced sincerity. "I will write a formal letter of apology to you and to your entire family. I will even offer a public apology, if that is what you want. But Anne... Anne had nothing to do with this. She is completely innocent." Eric was baffled by his response. It was one thing to be a fool, but it was another to be a proud one. "Lord... Lord George," he began, his voice a mixture of disbelief and a dawning, terrible understanding. He looked at George, at the desperate, devoted look in his eyes. And then he saw it. It was the exact same feeling, the same obsessive, possessive look that George used to give Delia, the very same look that used to make Eric’s own blood boil with a quiet, jealous rage. Eric chuckled, a short, sharp, and humorless sound. The pieces of the puzzle were finally clicking into place. The fool is already in love. "By some strange chance, Lord George," he asked, a slow, dangerous smile now on his face, "is there something going on between you and Lady Anne?" "And what if there is?" George replied, his own voice now full of a defiant, foolish courage. "As a man, I want to protect the woman that I have feelings for. Is that so wrong?" " The woman you have feelings for?" He asked, his voice filled with amusement. " Then why do you look at my wife like that at any given opportunity?" He paused as his words came out slowly. " Or are you now into the two sisters?" George wanted to speak but Eric stopped him. " I don’t really care about your personal life. Just keep my wife out of it." He said, his expression turning serious. George remained silent. He looked at George and spoke. " You are here defending Anne even," Eric said, his voice a soft, silken whisper, "when she, that same woman you have feelings for, is currently courting another man?" The words hit George like a slap to his face. He let out a loud, strangled shout of pure, unadulterated shock. "WHAT?"

Chapter 163 - Hundred And Sixty Three

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