AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"No. It was no accident. Your father warned me of a rival, but we did not think anything like this could happen. Did not think anyone would do something so sinister. You know your father was not just my faithful servant, William, he was my friend, and I have failed him. I am so sorry."
The young boy’s face crumpled again when he saw Marco's despair. He turned back to his father and placed a hand against his cheek. "Oh, Papa. I promise I'll take care of mother and the others." William's tears fell onto his father's bloody face.
Marco looked down at Thomas' face and remembered the kind-hearted man who had helped him build and run his factory. He couldn't imagine rebuilding without Thomas's assistance. He briefly closed his eyes and said a silent farewell to the man who had worked so hard for him over the years — who had mentored him and treated him as if he were a son rather than a employer. He vowed once more that he would exact his vengeance.
William stood then and swiped his sleeve across his eyes. Marco stood next to him as they both watched the fire burn.
"I offer myself to you, Mr. Alegria," William said, his voice hardening with conviction. "I will do anything you ask. Anything that needs to be done to make this right. It is what my father would want."
Marco saw a glimmer of Thomas’ grit in William's determined face. Now that his father was gone, the Cromer family would depend on William to support them. The best way Marco could honor his old friend was to offer his son a place. He had no doubt that the boy would prove to be strong and resilient, just like his father.
"I accept your offer, William. But first, you must take your father home and grieve. I will come to you as soon as I can," Marco said, putting his hand on the boy's slender shoulder.
William’s chin wobbled, but he nodded firmly. Marco turned to the men who were standing respectfully back. They held their caps in their hands, sad expressions on their faces as they looked at the body of their beloved manager. “Can some of you please assist young William in bringing his father home?"
“We’d be honored, sir,” they muttered. Those closest bent down and lifted Thomas reverently in their arms.
William watched the men begin the slow procession across the fields. Before following, he turned to Marco and bowed. Marco returned the gesture as fresh tears stung his eyes. "Thank you, sir," William said. Then he turned and followed his father's body.
It pained him to see such a young lad have to step into his father’s shoes. But Marco reminded himself that by William's age, he and his cousin were already on their own. And they didn't have anyone like him to help them. Marco vowed to teach the boy everything he knew. He'd never be able to repay Thomas for everything he'd done for him, but he'd watch out for his son and make sure he had a good start in life. It was the least he could do.
“Marco!” a man cried out.
Marco turned at the sound of his cousin’s voice. Giovanni slowed his horse and dismounted quickly. One of Marco’s workers took the reins and led the horse away, lest the blaze frighten it into bolting.
“What has happened?” Giovanni demanded, staring at the burning building.
“Sabotaggio,”Marco spat, reverting to his native Italian in his anger. Giovani's eyes widened, and he cursed viciously, which Marco found oddly comforting.
He drew his cousin away from the crowd so they could speak privately. He did not know how the fire started, but he worried that the Duke of Fitzroy had manipulated one of his employees to cause it.
“I am sorry, cousin," Giovanni said earnestly. The despair in his tone was enough to tear down the last of Marco's composure.
“It is all gone. Years of hard work. Gone,” Marco whispered, swallowing his pain as the fire burst through the building's roof. “And Thomas. My friend, he is..."
Marco found he could no longer speak and pressed his palm over his mouth, not wanting to appear weak in front of his men. Giovanni stood beside him and gripped his shoulder tightly in support.
“You will rebuild. You will be stronger,” Giovanni said fiercely. “You can overcome this, Marco, and I will be by your side."
At that moment, there was a great creaking, drawing Marco's attention back to the building. The factory collapsed in a roar of bricks and wood as the fire finally consumed the structure. The gathered crowd let out a cry of sadness. Marco felt hopelessness descend on him as all his dreams seemed to fall under the rubble.
His cousin’s hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present, and he fingered the wax seal on the letter in his pocket. A calm pressed upon him as one thought solidified inside his mind:I will have my revenge against the man who has taken everything from me. I will take everything he holds dear and crush him for what he has done.
CHAPTERTWO
Alice paced along the marble floor of the Duke of Fitzroy’s entry hall, doing short laps across the black and white squares at the bottom of the stairs. The old Duke, as everyone below stairs called him, had been unwell for the last week and was quite likely dying. Her mother, the housekeeper, was beside herself, but Alice had busied herself to her usual work as the cook’s help in the kitchen and was relatively unaffected. However, her mother had been absent from her post for several hours this afternoon, and Alice had only recently been summoned upstairs. Shehad been told to wait by the butler, so she did, pacing and worrying about what might happen. Alice was well aware that her mother had been having an illicit affair with the old Duke for many years andhoped her transgression would not result in their dismissal. Shehad no idea what they would do if the Duke kicked them out, and she knew her mother would be devastated if he abandoned her.
“He is ready for you,” the butler said, standing at the top of the stairs. Alice was astounded that the Duke would want to see her. She assumed he'd have the butler dismiss them. But sheknew she was his to command as a servant in his household, and she couldn't disobey. She brushed the flour from her apron, and politely nodded as she climbed the stairs, conscious of her worn shoes on the beautiful walnut floorboards. She'd never been to the manor's family rooms. Despite the fact that her mother had climbed the back stairs almost every night since Alice could remember. She felt horribly exposed as she was led along a beautifully decorated corridor to a highly polished oak door. When Alice realized it was the door to the Duke's bed chamber, her stomach lurched. She was perplexed but stepped forward when the butler opened itand entered.
“Miss Proctor to see you, Your Grace,” the butler intoned, holding the door open.
“Thank you,” the old Duke rasped. Alice was disturbed to see that he was reclining in bed and even more surprised to see her mother seated next to him. After all, it was one thing for her mother to have been his secret lover all these years, and quite another for him to openly have her by his bedside. The old Duke’s face was wan and thin, his chest heaving with each breath. She noticed that her mother held one of his hands on the coverlet. Alice stood at the end of the bed and felt a sudden rush of awkwardness. She dropped her head and dipped into a proper curtsey even though her mind was racing.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” she uttered, trying not to meet her mother’s eye. She had no idea how to act in this situation. Her mother stood by the Duke's bedside as if she were his duchess. He wasn't treating her like she was once his late wife's lady's maid. His seduction of that maid may have helped her rise to the position of housekeeper, but she was still a low-born servant, not the lady of the house.
“Thank you for coming, Alice. Please, take a seat,” the old Duke said, gesturing to the empty chair at his bedside, near her mother. Alice shuffled uncomfortably. As a servant in the house, the rules dictated that she could not sit in the Duke’s presence. Yet he had asked her, and she could not disobey a command. Without meaning to, she caught her mother's eye.
“Take a seat, darling,” her mother said gently, with a soft smile. Alice nodded and sat down at the Duke’s bedside; his yellowed eyes following her. The cook seemed correct in her suspicions – the Duke appeared to be dying. He took an unsteady breath and turned his head to fully look at her.
