Matthew Hawthorne felt his throat tighten as he watched Eleanor Windsors hand snap upward, as if it were about to shove or even strike Mabel Blythe. The assembled guests held their breath, and for a moment time seemed to freeze.
The blow never came. Matthew seized her wrist with a firm, unyielding grip. His voice was low but cutting.
Enough, Eleanor.
She stared at him in disbelief, then forced a nervous laugh, the kind that always masks a deeper fury.
Are you serious? In front of everyone? Defending a mere maid against me? Do you want to humiliate me?
Matthew released her hand, his gaze remaining cold, sharp as a blade.
It isnt about a maid. Its about respect. A man who cannot respect others has no place beside me.
His words fell like stones into the hush. The guests shifted uneasily. Some ladies pressed their lips with their hands, the gentlemen averted their eyes. All understood: this was the end.
Eleanors skin went numb, a blush sliding across her cheeks, her eyes flashing with anger.
You mean youre choosing her? That nobody? she shouted, pointing at Mabel with a gesture full of contempt.
Mabel stepped back, ready to withdraw, but Matthew gestured for her to stay.
No, Eleanor. Im choosing myself. I cannot live with a woman who takes pleasure in degrading others. Its time you left.
A flash of lightning struck Eleanors face.
Youre mad! Youll regret this bitterly! I was the one who lifted your name, who walked beside you at every society gathering! And now youll cast me aside for a simple maid?
Matthew gave a thin smileone without warmth. With a simple motion he indicated the doorway. The towering footman of the manor moved forward, his respect tempered by resolve, and showed her the exit.
Eleanor spun, seeking support from the guests, but met only icy, judgmental, or shyly averted looks. For the first time she stood utterly alone. She clutched her teeth, the electric tension trembling through her, and vanished into the night, leaving behind a heavy perfume and an even heavier silence.
Matthew exhaled and turned slowly toward Mabel.
Forgive me. You never should have endured such humiliation.
Mabels eyes glistened with tears.
I shouldnt have had to suffer this, sir. Im just a workwoman.
You are not just a thing. You are a person. Tonight you showed more dignity than many here.
Someone began to clap. Then another. In an instant the garden rang with applause. Emotion surged like a tide: the guests recognized the truth.
Mabel wiped her tears with a trembling hand, unsure whether to smile or hide. Matthew took her handclear, open, before all eyes.
A man standing by me must have heart, not arrogance. Tonight I learned whom I truly value.
Mabel was mute. Her heart pounded wildly, her cheeks burned. Sheonce the maid who had been lowerednow stood at the centre of respect.
The guests silently witnessed the shift. For them it was a lesson they would never forget: money and opulence mean nothing without humanity.
That night the manor was not a stage for haughty laughter but for truth and dignity. And Matthew, having lost the woman he thought would be his future, had found something far richerrespect, freedom, and perhaps the beginning of a new story.
