Robert wasn’t a man of reaction. Nothing could ever have his jaw parted that widely. He was unable to find words.

  “Y-you… I-I…Are you… saying that I—?”

  “Yes.” Lancaster sighed and continued with a heavy tone, “You are the heir of Mainwood.”

  Robert had already gathered what Mr. Lancaster wanted to say, but he couldn’t believe it until he heard the exact words from him. He was there to ask for money only to return to his home and live by for a few months—maybe a few years—but now Mr. Lancaster was promising him the earldom. Never in his life had he obtained something so astounding with such a convenience. Long gone was the misery of peasant life. A big smile spread across his face. He was going to be the earl, the lord of Mainwood!

  A loud chuckle left Robert’s mouth. Mr. Lancaster frowned. He knew families and relatives would get ugly toward each other over titles and inheritance. However, seeing Mr. Capell’s joy for the earl’s death—the earl who had given him and his family a roof over their head and food on their table—irritated him.

  Robert noticed Mr. Lancaster’s frown but didn’t bother to apologize. Who was he to judge Robert Capell, the new lord of Mainwood?

  “Dear Mother of Jesus! How was I not informed?” Robert asked with a loud, cheerful voice.

  “How did you not know by now?” Mr. Lancaster said, mocking Robert’s lack of intelligence and current knowledge of what was happening around him. “Haven’t you come all this way to hasten the process?”

  “Oh, I assure you, Mr. Lancaster, if I knew I am his only relative, I would never leave Mainwood.”

  “Let’s hope His Lordship finds his strength again.”

  ‘He will never gain his strength,’ Robert thought to himself but didn’t say it aloud. He rose to his feet and stretched his hand in front of Lancaster while smiling widely. “It was splendid to make your acquaintance, indeed,” he said, shaking his hands aggressively, unable to hide his excitement.

  “Again,” Mr. Lancaster said, pulling his hand away from Robert in annoyance, “We have met before.”

  “I’m sure I would’ve remembered you if we had,” Robert said, this time not worried if Mr. Lancaster felt disrespected. Secretly he enjoyed showing his dominance to the man who would soon become nothing but his worker.

  Robert exited the office, ran to his family, and told them everything. They screamed and shouted, celebrating the twist of fate in their favor. It was a surreal moment. Things had finally changed in a way one could only dream about. Their youngest, Louisa, couldn’t stop dancing around the room and screaming in her high-pitched voice even though she didn’t quite understand what she would gain from that turn of events.

  “Louisa!” Kathrine called her loudly to discipline her. “Ladies never scream!”

  “Oh, for the love of God, Kathrine,” Robert intervened, “Let her scream today.” Louisa smiled widely at his father. Things were already changing. His father was getting kinder and gentler. “You can discipline her tomorrow,” Robert added, wiping the smile off Louisa’s face. “You can torture her all you want, my future countess!” He took his wife in his arms and twirled her around the room.

  Louisa’s joy lasted only for a few seconds. She realized that her father wasn’t going to change. Maybe now that he possessed power and a title, he would be even more insufferable.

  “When is the earl going to die?” Stewart teased after wrestling his brother in a silly excited way. “Perhaps we can arrange something. A quick and silent way.”

  He didn’t mean it, yet a harsh slap from Robert met Stewart’s face, and Stewart stumbled backward. Kathrine gasped, immediately taking her daughter’s hand so she wouldn’t be scared.

  “You need to learn to open your mouth when you are allowed,” Robert said, his authoritative, scary look replacing his joyful smile.

  What made him angry wasn’t the lack of empathy in his son’s words but rather his indiscretion in speech at the presence of servants. He got closer to Stewart, who had his cheek in his hand and tears in his eyes.

  “I will be the earl soon,” Robert said, ready to charge at him again if provoked, “and if you open your mouth only once, by God, I swear, if it only happens once, I will have you removed from this town, or maybe, from the earth.”

  Stewart’s tears streamed down his cheeks. There he was again, not the twenty-four-year-old man with a height taller than his father, but the toddler who got beaten up by him for the tiniest inconveniences. By abusing his son, Robert made him feel smaller each day.

  “Do you understand?” Robert growled, and Stewart nodded without looking him in the eyes.

  The word finally spread that the earl had only a few days to live. The Capells had an immense role in spreading the news because Joseph’s death would benefit them in a way they had never imagined. Joseph, the sick earl, grew weaker and thinner by the day. The doctors were so helpless that they could only offer prayer

  Peers didn’t like Robert as the new Earl of Mainwood for many reasons. First, no one was sure if the Capells and the Fords were really cousins. The earl’s family tree was known only to the seventh line. There were arguments about the lines before that.

  Second, the peers thought low of Capells because Robert and his family were not as high as them in class, education, prosperity, or social status—which was the most important one.

  The servants and the average class were also upset by the turn of events. They loved Joseph as much as they used to love Margaret. And now tragically Joseph was going to die before Margaret’s second anniversary.

  Time in Mainwood did not pass easily for anyone living there, especially the ones in the house. Capells, most importantly Robert, gave everyone the worst time of their lives. He treated the servants poorly, shouting at them with any minor error, throwing his glass of drink on the floor when he wasn’t pleased with their job, or demanding overwork.

  The servents had never been treated that way during Joseph’s management. Joseph had grown up in a tense environment with his father and grandfather abusing everyone lower or the same class as themselves. So, he promised himself that he would break the cycle and respect everyone including his children and the lower class.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  As the death day of Margaret approched, Robert grew angrier because the title was so close to being his, yet none of the servants took him as seriously as they should have. He woke up early and started his day by promenading in the garden with nothing but his pipe. The sunrise was mesmerizing.

  One of the footmen appeared by Robert’s side. “Mr. Capell,” he said, and Robert turned his head only a little so he could look at him from the corner of his eyes. “You called for me,” the footman said.

  “Why are my boots not polished?” he asked while his pipe rested between his teeth.

  The footman looked down at his shoes and then back at his eyes. “They are,” he said.

  Robert took the pipe out of his mouth, clenched his jaw, and stepped toward the footman. “Did you give the lord the same service you give me now?” he asked, towering above the young footman. The footman gulped hard and said nothing. “If you keep going like this, I will have you removed from your job.”

  “Please,” the footman begged. “I’ll do everything you ask.”

  “I shan’t ask!” Robert shouted, startling the footman. “I mustn’t ask! This is your job! Do you understand?!”

  “Y-Yes, Mr. Capell!” the footman stuttered.

  “Get lost!” Robert shouted, and the man walked away.

  Robert leaned toward the tulips and plucked one that looked prettier. For some reason, tulips interested him. Despite his anger and coldness, he cared for flowers. Robert put the tulip in his pocket and returned to the house. He stopped by the kitchen and looked at all the people working there. It didn’t look that crowded. Of course, there were only the Capells to feed, so the servants weren’t in much haste.

  “Mr. Capell,” an old maid said, approaching him. “Is there something you need?”

  “Yes,” Robert said as he took his coat off, which surprised the maid. It was strange to remove a piece of clothing in front of ladies, but the servants weren’t ladies, so Robert didn’t care. “This jacket needs mending. The buttons are loose.”

  “Of course,” the maid said as she took the coat from him.

  “I need it by afternoon.”

  The maid nodded, and he left the kitchen. He waited for his tea as he looked at the paintings of the big ballroom. Art never amused him. He had never studied nor took any interest in it. But there was a painting in that hall that intrigued him. It reminded him of the house he grew up in. He hated it there. It was a rat hole in his mind, tiny and dirty. If it weren’t for Joseph and Margaret’s help, Robert would be staggeringly destitude even more than his childhood because he had gambled everything he owned.

  “Mr. Capell,” the old maid’s voice interrupted Robert's thoughts, and he turned around to look at her. “Your jacket, sir,” she said, extending her hands before him.

  He took it and checked for the loose buttons. They were mended nicely. “That is all,” he said, dismissing the maid.

  He wore it and put his hands inside his pockets while looking at the painting. His eyes widened when he felt something amiss. With angry steps, he walked toward the hallway and stopped the maid, who was halfway toward the kitchen.

  The maid looked scared. “What happened, sir?” she asked while Robert’s hand was on her arm.

  “Who mended this?” Robert asked, anger rising within him.

  “Why, sir? Isn’t it done nicely?”

  “Who mended it?!” he shouted.

  “Lily!” she blurted out the maid's name.

  “Where is she?”

  “The earl’s bedchamber,” she said, not meaning to telltale, but she had no other choice.

  Robert let go of the old maid’s arm and climbed the stairs toward the earl’s bedchamber. The valet by the door wasn’t there, and Robert took advantage, barging in, ready to lash out at anyone present in the room. A young maiden was sitting by Joseph’s unconscious body and cleaning his face with a wet towel.

  “You!” Robert said, and the maiden turned to look at him.

  She read the anger on his face, so she put the towel into the big bowl of water, placing it on a table near Joseph’s bed. Then she stood up, fixing her skirt. Robert strode toward her and grabbed her by her arm tightly. His fingers pinched her so hard through the fabric of her dress.

  “You steal from me?!” Robert said, his fingernails almost digging inside her flesh.

  “I would never,” she defended, not looking even a little frightened. Robert’s wrath tended to be petrifying since it always followed violence. He found her composure irritating. A servant stupid enough to steal, now she was lying too?

  “On the table,” she said, and his head jerked toward it. The tulip was there, inside a small vase half filled with water.

  He ground his teeth and returned his look at the maid. “How dare you take something from my jacket?” His tone was harsh enough to make a grown man shiver. “How dare you steal from me?”

  “The tulip was dying,” she stated with no sign of regret or fear.

  Robert pushed her toward the table and followed there to grab the tulip. He threw the flower on the floor and stomped on it with his boot. It already looked wittered, yet he purposely dragged his foot on the floor to show Lily the smashed sight of it to intimidate her.

  “Now it’s completely dead,” Robert said, grabbing the maid’s neck. “Do you wish to get fired from this house?” The maid remained silent, but her lips parted due to the pain. He was finally starting to feel authoritative over her.

  “Do you wish to never work with any household again?” His voice was now in a whispery tone. “Your life is in my hands. I could crush you like this flower.”

  “There’s no doubt, Mister,” she replied, and it made his ears burn.

  “You don’t believe I could,” he hissed through his teeth.

  “If there’s a man who could ruin me here,” she spoke with an unbalanced voice while her breath was short, “it would most certainly be you.”

  Was she challenging him? Did she not fear him? How was this possible? No one ever was stupid enough not to believe his wrath. He made sure to hurt them so they would believe him, and it always worked.

  He let go of her neck and pushed her to the table. She let a whimpering sound slip her lips as she stumbled to the table.

  Robert caged her. “Why did you even look into my pockets?” he asked while his head was only a few inches away from hers.

  “I was curious.” Her answer was firm.

  “Ask for forgiveness,” he demanded, unable to part his gaze from her lips. Was he affecting her, or was it the other way around? “Say you’re sorry.”

  She parted her lips, and he stared. “I’m sorry, sir,” she said, and he felt both happy that he got what he wanted and disappointed that she easily gave up. “But I would save the tulip again,” she added, interesting him even more.

  “Aren’t you scared of me?”

  “Should I be?”

  The frown on his brows deepened, and he clenched his jaw. There was no way a maid would say something this silly and not fear the outcome. When he made his way to the bedchamber, he was sure someone would get hurt by him. But he could never hurt someone like Lily.

  With the back of his fingers he traced her soft skin. Lily questioned his intention with only her gaze. She was an innocent girl, too young to experience romance or any sexual relations. Robert lowered his head and moved his lips to her throat very softly. Her body tightened with his intrusive kiss. It was odd and uncomfortable. She wanted to free herself, but Robert held her tight. There was a stubbornness in her eyes, which made Robert want her more.

  Lily finally escaped his grasp and walked away from him. “Please,” she whispered, looking mortified by his touch. Finally, Robert thought, something scared her. Lily glanced at Joseph’s unconscious body to ensure he hadn’t woken up. “This is wrong!” Even though she was a virgin, she had heard what happened between men and women, and she knew it was wrong. “You have a wife, sir.”

  Robert was thirstier than ever. Lily’s soft skin lingered under his fingers and mouth. He didn’t want her to stay away longer. “I don’t love her,” he said, walking toward her.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Lily said, going around the table in the middle of the room to avoid Robert.

  Robert clenched his jaw, stroking his fingertips on the table and longing to have Lily’s taste again. “But it does,” he argued while chasing her around the table.

  Lily shook her head, and before Robert could reach her, “Goodbye, Mister Capell,” she said, rushing out of the room to avoid Robert’s dominance.

  Robert’s hand stayed in the air. He was so close to catching Lily and taking her in his arms, but she slipped through her fingers. The lack of her touch burnt Robert’s heart. His fingers smelled like her scent. He would lose his mind if he didn’t have her soon. In his heart and mind he promised to have her even if it was the last thing he would do.