The Northern Mad Dog Is Wagging Its Tail

“Why?” Marcus cried out, looking at Britia who stood up from her seat.

“You’re upset because they called you beggars? But it’s true,” he also added.

Lady Robley, trying to stop Marcus, held onto his arm, but he shook her off.

“Lockhart has never begged for money,”

Britia’s fists trembled with anger. She couldn’t hear Hailey calling out her name, trying to soothe her and calm her down.

Marcus sneered, pushing his index finger towards Britia’s face.

“That’s not true!”

Laughing sarcastically, Marcus continued, “I heard your father went to my father in the past, asking for money. What’s that then?”

Britia was stunned. Why was this man so hostile and disdainful towards Lockhart? It seemed like there was some history between Beaumex Count and Lockhart, as he had borrowed money from him once.

“You can’t differentiate between borrowing money and begging, can you?” she retorted.

But, of course, her father had paid back that money. Britia vividly remembered that. Nevertheless, she gritted her teeth, pushing his finger aside as she glared at the determined Marcus.

“Stop making such remarks just because you don’t seem to understand the difference!”

“And you think I’m just being loud about an ignorant subject?”

“I’m glad you understood that,” Britia said as a smirk broke out on the face of a person sitting at the table to her right.

“Ahahaha! Did you hear that, Harty?” kyra giggled, and Harty tried to contain an awkward smile, but Britia sensed that he found the situation amusing.

“But isn’t it more than just being loud? He’s so oblivious.”

“Kyra!”

 

Marcus was flushed by the fact that he had been laughed at by Harty’s party.He vented the anger on Britia.

“Do you dare insult me regarding the topic of Lockhart?”

“Lockhart’s topic?” Britia’s voice rose. In her mind, she vividly recalled Lord Crave Lockhart’s face, as he returned home with the wine he received as a congratulatory gift after repaying Mr. Debon’s debt.

She couldn’t forget how happy he was, how they embraced and wept together that day, sharing the wine from Mr. Debon and discussing their future plans.

“We have no reason to listen to such insulting words about Lockhart,” she asserted.

“It’s not an insult, it’s the truth. These so-called Marquises, begging around from person to person without even knowing their place!” Marcus scoffed at the thought.

There was no sight more laughable than that, he added with a mocking grin.

Britia opened her eyes wide, on the verge of tears due to her anger. Why couldn’t Crave Lockhart see that? The very man who cried, saying being a count was too burdensome, vowing to follow his parents in death!

“He knows better than anyone the weight of his position,” she defended.

“And a person who knows the weight does such things?”

“What kind of things are you talking about?”

“Bowing down to this person and that, selling his dignity for nothing!”

Britia stared at Marcus with her mouth agape.

“Marcus, can’t you be more sensible?” Lady Robley, the Duchess, tightly held onto Marcus’s arm.

“You’ve insulted the nobility’s reputation! How dare you? He might be from the same Marquis lineage as your father, but what of it?”

“Britia, let’s go,” Lady Lockhart, the Marchioness, wrapped her trembling shoulders in a protective embrace and tried to lead her away.

“Haley, are we disgracing the nobility’s reputation? How much effort has Crave put in to uphold the Lockhart name…?”

Britia’s mind went blank, and her words trailed off. What should they have done differently?

“I understand,” Lady Lockhart said, her lips trembling as she looked at Marcus and Lady Robley resentfully.

Thinking he had won, Marcus confidently pointed his chin towards them.

“You both claimed that you never begged for anything earlier, didn’t you?”

Marcus glanced over the table where Britia and her companions had been sitting.

“Wasn’t it you then, begging my aunt for something?”

Marcus pointed his finger at the spot where a cup of coffee, a cup of tea, and two small cookies were placed. Although Britia had declined, Lady Robley insisted on ordering them for her, saying she wanted to treat her.

“You thought they were gifts for you?” Britia’s eyes widened in shock as she turned to Lady Robley, who blinked in surprise.

“No, Britia. Don’t misunderstand. Marcus! You’re embarrassing me!” Lady Robley exclaimed.

“The embarrassing ones are not me, but them!” Marcus retorted.

“Marcus!”

“Aunt, I’m your nephew. Not that woman!” Marcus and Lady Robley argued, and Hailey moved closer to Britia, wrapping her arms around her shoulders.

“We should leave. I’m sorry for bringing you here; let’s go,” she said, feeling the need to escape this situation as quickly as possible. She hadn’t gone out to hear such insulting words. It felt like it was all her fault for suggesting they come here.

“You all have it easy. Begging and then denying it – how convenient,” Marcus grumbled.

Britia turned slowly to look at the sulking Marcus. “…Do you find it easy?”

Thankfully, the Lockhart twins’ debutante ball happened before the decline in their social standing. They had learned that the social scene wasn’t as kind as they imagined, but back then, everything was intriguing and enjoyable. However, as they sank deeper into debt, Britia realized just how cruel society could be.

“Do you think it’s easy for someone like you to endure contempt?” she asked, her chest tightening at the thought of Crave Lockhart, who had once claimed that strutting around carelessly was his specialty, later bowing and bending in society after becoming a Marquis.

“Do you know how challenging it is for someone who has fallen to rise again and smile brightly, to regain their confidence?” It took three years for him to straighten his back again.

“Do you think it’s easy for everyone to wear a debutante dress that draws envy at the debutante ball?”

Britia wanted to provide Leon with the most exquisite dress for his debutante ball. She loathed the fact that she could no longer enjoy what she once took for granted during his wealthy days. However, circumstances were not favorable, and she had to create his dress with her modest skills.

“Do you think it’s easy to wear that awful dress and claim you’re the cutest?”

Britia took a deep breath, filled with anger. The hurtful words from her family felt even more cruel than the insults she heard before, calling her a beauty but old or whatever. She was furious.

“Apologize.”

Marcus, still intoxicated by victory, widened his eyes in surprise. As Britia approached him, Harty and Kyra watched with keen interest from behind her.

“Are you insane?”

For Marcus, apologizing in front of them, especially Lockhart, was a dreadful thing. His pride would never allow it.

“We’ve paid off all our debts with dignity. It’s unforgivable to call us beggars who sold our pride cheaply. Apologize.”

“Are you in your right mind?”

Marcus, noticing Harty and Kyra whispering behind Britia’s shoulder, straightened his posture with a startled expression.

“Please, apologize.”

Even facing Marcus, who seemed ready to strike, Britia didn’t back down.

“What do you think, Lockhart has become famous by hanging out with celebrities like the Duke of Turas or the Marquis of Slanford?”

“Celebrities?”

“Lockhart exchanging a few letters with them doesn’t make him their equal!”

“Why are you suddenly talking about them?”

As Britia looked puzzled, Harty’s eyes narrowed. He had no intention of interfering in their fight, but if things escalated further, he couldn’t just stand by. Robley would not remain silent either.

“You think you’re special to them? Slanford usually goes around touching whoever he wants…!”

“I can’t take it anymore!”

Lady Robley also noticed the situation and hastily stood up, taking hold of Marcus’s arm.

“Aunt, I’ve been insulted. Why are you just standing there?”

Marcus shook off the Duchess’s touch and erupted in anger.

“Do you know how much money Father and Mother received to take care of you? Shouldn’t you at least repay them accordingly?”

“What are you talking about? Do you think I’m taking care of you because I’m bothered by that small amount of money?”

The Duchess trembled with rage.

“It was a heartfelt request from my older brother and his wife that I agreed to. If I knew you were so ungrateful, I would have never accepted!”

“You should apologize and leave, Marcus Beaumex!”

Robley, her face flushed, tried to hold onto Marcus’s arm, but Britia intervened.

“You’ve tarnished my family’s honor!”

“Honor?”

Marcus pushed away Robley’s hand on his arm and grabbed Britia by her hair.

“You’re talking about honor? How dare you!”

Britia was momentarily shocked, her eyes wide open, and she gasped for breath. She couldn’t believe what was happening to her, and it was terrifying. But soon, she gritted her teeth. If she backed down now, it would be a disgrace for Lockhart.

“Marcus!”

Robley was astonished by Marcus’s actions.

“Hey! Someone come here right now!”

Harty got up from his seat and loudly called for the staff, knocking his finger against the table. Soon, a large figure approached the terrace.

“What’s going on? You better stop this right awa—”

As the approaching person spoke, he turned his head and softened his command.

“Marcus! Let go of her immediately!”

“Britia!”

Robley, her temples throbbing with anger, and Lady Lockhart, who had been pinching Marcus’s arm to protect Britia, both noticed the approaching figure.

“Apologize for insulting my family!”

Tears welled up in Britia’s eyes. To be humiliated by such a man, towards her own family, was unbearable. These tears were undoubtedly born out of anger, not the pain of being held by her hair.

“Even if my hair is all pulled out, you must apologize. Apologize!”

“The apology should come from you. Do you think I can just let this humiliation pass? Even if you kneel and beg for forgiveness, ugh!”

As Britia felt the hand that had been roughly gripping her hair suddenly move away, she slowly lifted her head.

“Ah-ah-ah-ah!”

Marcus let out a pitiful scream. The face of the one holding his wrist was obscured by the setting sun, making the figure appear even more intimidating than usual. Sig Turas’s eyes blazed with anger.

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