Uncommon (BWWM)

Chapter 22

Rebecca Simpson is a self-preservationist, plain and simple. Her upbringing had made it so. In the world she was born into, you have to do whatever is necessary to survive, otherwise you're left out to the wolves.

Her father, Stewart Simpson, British aristocrat, shameless social climber, would not hesitate to throw his daughter in front of a moving train for a shot at the big leagues. And her mother, Eliza, is his devoted follower.

Rebecca is certain that they would have ignored her existence if it weren't for the fact that being a happy family is good for the brand.

In fact, she expects that she would probably have been thrown out on the street at the nearest opportunity... or worse. Her father is a powerful man, and he can make her life very difficult if he saw fit.

So, it was in Rebecca's best interest to always do as her father said. She hasn't stood up for herself since she was 12 years old. She hadn't had a rebellious teenage phase; that was verbally beaten out of her and ended as soon as it started.

When the Duchess of Gloucester, soon to be de-facto queen of England, came knocking on their door, asking for the help of the Simpson family, Rebecca already knew her parents would do anything she asked.

She just hadn't predicted that she herself would be involved.

"Rebecca, is it?" The tall woman asked her, her attention for the first time turning to the silent young woman in the corner.

"Yes." Stewart Simpson replied for her, eagerly, looking like an excitable puppy, "Isn't she beautiful?"

Rebecca resisted the strong urge to roll her eyes. It was obvious what her father was doing. It had recently been revealed that the Duchess had a son, who would one day be the king of England. Apparently, 'father-in-law to the King' would look nice on Mr Simpson's extensive resumé.

"Yes. You are." Alexandra said, making a point to look at Rebecca only, "And you're at university?"

"Yes, ma'am." Rebecca's father interrupted again, causing the Duchess to fix her piercing golden gaze onto him.

"Does your daughter have a speech problem, or do you just believe her to be incapable of simple conversation?" She asked calmly, though venom laces her words.

"I-I..I"

"You what, Stewart?" Alexandra prompted, one eyebrow raised, "Do close your mouth, or I fear your face will be stuck looking like a confused guppy."

Rebecca barely held back a laugh, and had to cough to hide her amusement. The Duchess noticed though, and gave her a cheeky smirk when her parents weren't looking at her.

"Yes, your highness, I'm at St Andrew's." Rebecca finally spoke, feeling more confident since her father had been reprimanded.

"Ah, Scotland's finest." The Duchess nodded approvingly, "Very good choice. Do you enjoy it?"

Rebecca didn't even think about it, she knew what her father would want her to say, so she said it, "I'm doing very well."

"I didn't ask if you were doing well. I asked if you were enjoying it."

This made Rebecca freeze. She had never been asked her opinion on something before. It made her brain short-circuit a bit.

"I...I'm not." She said truthfully after careful contemplation.

"She's just being silly, ma'am, she loves it, she's top of her class." Her father tried to make excuses, fumbling to explain away his disappointment.