Bride Behind The Mask (Frederick and Marguerite)

Chapter 508

Marguerite snapped back to reality, confusion laced her voice. “What?”

“About Hackett,” Frederick across from her said, his eyes piercing as if they could unveil the deepest secrets of the soul. He had an unnerving talent for voicing things in a direct manner.

He always seemed to know what she was thinking, had done so in the past and was doing it now. Marguerite had grown used to

Thus, she didn’t bother to hide her feelings.

A trace of melancholy thickened on her face as she nodded, spilling her truth. “Deep down, I guess I always hoped I was a Fitzgerald. At least that way, I’d have family that cared, that worried about me. Zoe and Ablett never treated me like one of their own. And since grandma passed away, I’ve been all alone in this world.”

Suddenly, Frederick felt a pang in his chest. Was it because he thought of Laverne? Or had he begun to feel a twinge of compassion for Marguerite?

even he couldn’t

eyes and asked, “But I am genuinely curious. Why did you stand up for me downstairs? Why argue on my behalf?”

Why indeed?

up with a suitable reason

both Marguerite and himself. “Laverne was kind to me. Even if I despised you, I owed it to

eyes clouded with questions as she faced him.

knowledge of any goodwill between her grandmother

that her grandmother had

against the wall, arms folded, a strange flicker in his eyes as

was exiled to the countryside with my mother. When we were at our lowest, a

Marguerite’s mind seized.

childhood memories, a similar scene surfaced. Except, she was not the beggar; she was the

evening, a mother and son close

to get a bowl of broth from her grandmother, and she had given away their only loaf of bread for the night.