Reborn: The Duke's Obsession Chapter 285: Chapter Two Hundred And Eighty Five

Just as perfect, triumphant joy filled the air, a sharp, insistent pounding echoed from the front door.

"Who could that be?" Mrs. Pembroke inquired, her brow knitting in concern. They hadn't anticipated any visitors.

"Likely the neighbors," Evelin suggested with an easy shrug. "Probably need to borrow some sugar again." She slid her chair back, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. "I'll see who it is."

As Evelin departed the dining room, Mrs. Pembroke refocused her attention on their guest of honor, her smile warm and genuine. She replenished Victoria's plate with more stew. "You really must eat more, my dear," she urged.

Victoria responded with a graceful smile, "Thank you, Mother, but I couldn't possibly…"

Her words were abruptly silenced by the resounding slam of the front door, followed by Evelin's voice, sharp with fury, from the entryway. "What are you doing here, Anne? Where do you think you're going?"

Moments later, Anne materialized in the dining room doorway. The fashionable, scheming woman they recalled was gone, replaced by someone tired and worn, hauling a large, battered trunk. But the most striking feature, drawing all eyes, was the pronounced swell of her belly, heavy beneath her simple traveling dress, which brought the entire room to a stunned silence.

Upon seeing her, George sprang to his feet, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. "Anne." The name was a broken, disbelieving whisper.

Mrs. Pembroke stared, her gaze fixed on Anne's abdomen, her mind struggling to process the scene. "Oh, heavens," she breathed, instinctively placing a hand over her heart. "Are you… pregnant?"

A heavy, suffocating stillness descended upon the room. Anne, seemingly oblivious to Mrs. Pembroke and Evelin, directed her weary, hardened gaze solely at George.

"It has been a long time, George," she stated, her voice flat and utterly devoid of warmth. "How are you?"

George remained frozen, pallid and astonished, incapable of uttering a word.

Anne's eyes then shifted to Victoria, who observed her with polite, guarded bewilderment. "Are you married?" Anne directed the question to George, though her eyes remained locked on the beautiful, elegant woman beside him.

Evelin shattered the tense silence, her voice dripping with blatant hostility. "Who is the father, Anne?" she demanded.

Anne slowly turned her head, her gaze finding George's once more. Holding his eyes, a silent, damning accusation passed between them. "Your brother," she declared, her voice cutting clearly through the hushed room.

The declaration struck like a thunderclap.

"What?" Mrs. Pembroke shrieked, her voice reaching a high pitch.

"What did you say?" Evelin echoed, her face contorted in disgust.

"Anne, what are you implying?" George finally managed, his voice trembling.

A cold, mirthless smile graced Anne's lips. "Didn't you hear me?" She placed a hand on her swollen stomach, stroking it in a slow, deliberate circle. "This baby…" she met his gaze, her eyes holding him captive, "…is yours."

Mrs. Pembroke's hands flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp of sheer horror. The room seemed to waver. The idyllic future she had envisioned – the ducal connections, the immense wealth, the regained respectability – now lay in ruins.

With an air of absolute and unquestionable entitlement, Anne swept past the dumbfounded family, maneuvered her trunk to the wall, and took a seat in one of the unoccupied chairs at the table.

"What is she claiming, George?" Mrs. Pembroke demanded, her voice shaking as she finally regained her composure. She rose unsteadily to her feet. "Have you lost your mind, girl?"

"This can't be happening," Evelin whispered, her gaze pleading and horrified as she looked at her brother. "George? Did you… were you with her?"

George remained silent, unable to meet anyone's eyes. His gaze was fixed on an insignificant spot on the floor, his face flushed a deep, burning red with shame. The memory of that single, drunken, miserable night at the tavern following Delia's marriage to Eric surged back—a night he had desperately tried to erase, a mistake he had prayed would have no repercussions after she vanished, leaving him and his family to face the Carson family's fury. His silence was a confession.

Victoria, who had observed the unfolding disaster with quiet, dignified dismay, finally stood. She turned to George, her own face pale, her voice a fragile, breaking whisper. "George, please say something," she pleaded, reaching for his hand, her fingers clinging to him as if he were her only anchor. "It's not true, is it?"

Mrs. Pembroke looked at her son, at his guilty, downcast expression, and the truth struck her. A wave of dizziness washed over her. My comfortable life, she murmured inwardly, the words a silent, desperate plea. It's all over.

George finally turned his gaze to Victoria, his eyes swimming with an almost unbearable, profound misery. A confession was inevitable; he could not deceive her. "I'm sorry, Vi," he managed to choke out, the words sounding like a death knell.

Victoria's hand, which had been gripping his so tightly, suddenly went slack. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, she withdrew her hand from his grasp. The vibrant light in her eyes, so recently brimming with love and happiness, simply extinguished.

Her gaze then shifted towards Anne, who, with an air of detached indifference, had calmly selected a grape from the fruit bowl on the nearby table and was now eating it.

Wordlessly, and without shedding a single tear, Victoria turned. She retrieved her reticule and hat from the side table where they had been placed. She was departing.

The sight of her moving toward the exit finally jolted Mrs. Pembroke from her dazed state. "W-where, where are you going?" she stammered, hastening after Victoria.

"Wait, please! This must be a misunderstanding! George would never do something like this! He loves you!" Mrs. Pembroke pleaded, her voice escalating into a high, thin pitch of panic. "Lady Victoria! Lady Victoria!"

However, Victoria did not halt. She did not glance back. She exited the dining room, left the house, and vanished from their lives, closing the door quietly behind her. The Pembroke family was left alone with the devastation Anne had wrought.