After All

Chapter 1

Niles Brightmore had had the same routine for the past twenty five years. Ever since he had begun working for Maxwell Sheffield he always awoke at 5:00 am sharp, gotten dressed and he'd then head to the kitchen, ready to begin another day of work by preparing breakfast to the family.

If he was being honest, there had been a time when he had detested his job, but as he had bonded with the family and years went past, he had grown to like it. There had been a brief time when Niles had been happy with his job, with the family he was part of in New York and with the woman who used to be his nemesis – but of course it had all come crashing down the moment he decided to propose to C.C. Babcock. The blonde producer was, without a shadow of a doubt, the love of his life, and – he'd truly never understand why – he had had the idea that she might feel the same way about him.

But, boy, he had been wrong!

Needless to say, after the fight they had had it had become crystal clear to Niles how the former producer felt for him, and after having spoken quite possibly the most spiteful words he had ever said to her, the balance he had achieved in life was lost forever.

He knew why he had stayed with the Sheffields after the fight – first and foremost, Niles loved the family, and secondly, because he had nowhere else to go. In the heat of the moment, the thought of returning to his parents' house had briefly crossed his mind, but the moment he found himself tossing every item he possessed into a suitcase, his determination had disappeared. The thought had revolved around his head until he'd realised that it was a tad – alright, extremely pathetic. A fifty year old living in his parents' basement? Thanks, but no thanks. He wasn't willing to stoop so low.

What had sealed the deal was that C.C. had quitted. If she wasn't there, he had figured, then he could stay. Granted, it didn't make the pain go away, but at least she wouldn't be there to remind him of her rejection.

Speaking of the blonde socialite, there had been a long period of time – perhaps six months or so – during which Niles and the Sheffields had known nothing about her life. They had heard word of her moving out of the country, but that had been pretty much it. In a way, not knowing what was of her had made things a bit easier for the butler, but that had quickly changed. About five months ago, reports of Prince Andrew – Duke of York and Queen Elizabeth's third child – dating an American socialite named Chastity Claire had begun appearing in the media, but Niles had thought nothing of them. At least until he had seen a picture of the prince's new girlfriend on People Magazine...

As it turns out, Chastity Claire was none other than C.C. Babcock herself.

He remembered that when he had first seen a picture of her with the prince he had been cooking, and the shock had been so great that he had dropped the rolling pin straight to the floor. Fran had been sitting in the kitchen with him, and – just like had happened to Niles – Mrs. Sheffield had been unable to prevent a surprised gasp from leaving her lips. Unlike the former nanny, however, Niles hadn't been only surprised – he had been livid. He remembered he had cursed under his breath in a fruitless attempt to satisfy the burning sensation in his chest and stomach, but not even as he'd hissed it to himself over and over under his breath as he scraped around to pick up the fallen rolling pin, had been able to quell his anger. The pin had seemed to taunt him as it rolled away from his fingers.

He had been sure that if it could have laughed at him, it would have.

Like she had.

And would probably still, if she could see him like this. Not that she'd so much as glance at a servant now she was dating royalty.

Although the initial shock had passed, Niles' anger had not wavered one bit. It was not surprising, really, for the new Royal Couple had become the paparazzi's favourite topic of conversation and there had been uncountable reports on the media about them. So, even though he hadn't wanted to, Niles had been forced to see photos and footages of C.C. going to Royal parties or accompanying her new boyfriend during his royal duties...

The situation was truly nerve racking, but there was nothing he could do. He had hoped her new relationship wouldn't work – after all, how many men had she seen when she lived in the States? And how many of those relationships had ended in failure? All of them; so, why should this one be any different?

Of course, as though it were some kind of macabre joke of fate, time had proved him wrong. The couple had reached their first anniversary without any major troubles and – he loathed to admit – they seemed ridiculously happy. Over the past months Niles had witnessed the prince lavishing Babcock with gifts, attention and romantic gestures – just to give an example, the Duke had organised for Elton John to sing "Your Song" for her birthday, and the worst part was that the cameras had been able to catch the moment when the socialite – like most women would do – cried tears of joy before stamping a kiss on her boyfriend's lips. That had made him incredibly sick.

Or he also remembered about the time last January when the couple had been spotted in Rio de Janeiro, enjoying the South American summer. Niles had been unlucky enough to see the footage of both Prince Andrew and C.C. – who had been wearing a beautiful flowery sundress – dancing samba.

He also clearly remembered turning the television off and not listening to music for a week afterwards. The thought of anything relating to dancing made him feel sick to his stomach – he couldn't even stand it when Fran or the children put the radio on in the car. That had been a cheerless time for everyone.

The family took to trying to keep him away from anything related to the happy couple – magazines, newspapers, the television; each and every single media form in the house was carefully vetted before it was allowed near him. That was a fruitless attempt, really, considering Niles usually brought the mail and the newspapers in, Fran and Gracie both had tendencies to leave their magazines everywhere, and when he finally deigned listen to the radio again, the gossip stories were still all anyone could talk about. It almost seemed like there was nothing else going on in the world, when the butler wished that literally anything else in the world was happening at that moment. A meteor strike, a tidal wave; some disaster or another that the extremely fed up part of his brain wished would just crash down onto his head, killing him instantly.

Unfortunately for him, that wasn't going to happen. Nothing ever went his way just how he wanted it to. So he took to his work even harder, and tried not to listen as the whispers and mutterings amongst the people he passed in the streets as he ran errands didn't change to the weather or the state of politics, but remained firmly with Chastity-Claire Babcock, the American girl who had been swept off her feet and carried into the sunset by her very own Prince Charming.

It was all wonderfully fairy-tale like, he thought to himself. He had often called her a bitter old witch, but in this story, the only sour old anything was him.

And it kept getting worse every day, like a wound that hadn't been treated.

In a sense, that's exactly what it was.

She had left him behind. She had easily moved on with her life and had found a man – in her view– worthier of her attention, love and affection. Back when they were still enemies within the household, he had thought that their little routine of insults and pranks had made her happy, that they had been entertaining to her, but it seemed that fun and jokes – no matter how much enjoyable or entertaining – couldn't compete with someone who had a title before his name.

Niles knew the prince was not guilty of his situation, but he couldn't help but to loathe him. The man who already had everything had stolen from him the only woman Niles had ever loved, and that – by some horrible twist of fate – he got to see them being happy through the media.

The latest news about the royal couple were that they had travelled to Greece for a romantic getaway – Niles had almost kicked something when he learned about it – and also because they were visiting Andrew's paternal family.

Not that Niles cared, really, in fact it was just the opposite.

Even though seeing them together as boyfriend and girlfriend had been tough, he had hoped that, eventually, their relationship would end, as all her relationships did, and that she'd come back to New York. There had been a part of him that firmly believed that – no matter how happy Andrew and C.C. looked – they wouldn't last. Hence him practically stumbling towards the TV that morning when he heard the news anchor saying that there were some shocking news from about British Royal Family coming from Greece.

However, what he found was completely opposite of what he was expecting. It was a live transmission and Niles could see a wonderful beach being shown on the TV; there were two people – C.C. and Prince Andrew – walking down the paradisiac beach, hand in hand. They appeared to be having an important conversation – the butler could read it in her face – and all finally made sense when, suddenly, the Prince got on one knee, pulled out a little black box from his pocket and – after taking a deep, calming breath – he spoke.

"Chastity Claire Babcock, you've made me the happiest man on Earth and I can't imagine my life without you in it, so, I... I wanted to ask you," the prince took her left hand in his. "Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

Not even a second later C.C. – who had tears running down her cheeks – nodded and choked out her answer as she offered her trembling left hand to the prince. "Yes! Oh, Andrew, I will marry you!"

Immediately after slipping the ring down her finger, Andrew rose to his feet and wrapped his arms around his fiancée as they engaged in a wonderful kiss.

Niles held in the scream that had threatened to escape him as the couple turned around and began making their way through the throng of reporters, flanked on either side by enormous bodyguards that ushered the media professionals out of the way to let the two most important people in the world at that moment through. Camera flashes went off and questions were thrown at them from every angle, but the couple calmly ignored them both as a Mercedes with tinted windows came out of nowhere and pulled up, the back door being flung open to allow the duke and the now future-duchess to step inside.

Just before she did, C.C. turned around and sent one more beaming smile towards the cameras, clearly the happiest woman on Earth. Her blue eyes shone in his direction, and for an instant it was like she knew he was watching, and she was showing him just how much - how clearly - she had moved on.

'The happiest woman on Earth', he thought again, that's exactly how she looked. He'd always thought that the moments of banter and all the insults that they had shared purely for fun had made her the happiest she'd ever felt – he'd always thought the glint in her eyes had been pure, unadulterated joy. It's what he had felt in those moments. He'd hoped it had been mutual.

The echo of her 'I will marry you' always came with that kiss, and he could feel resentment bubbling up inside. Of course, he reminded himself, jokes and fun – even if it did make her happy, and even if he could have made her happy – couldn't compete with someone who had a title at the front of their name.

Class differences, he thought to himself bitterly.

Class difference was the reason he was where he was in life, scrubbing floors and polishing silverware instead of arguing cases in court, like he had dreamed of doing – and had been laughed at for even suggesting – as a child.

It was the reason most people never noticed him, and why he chose to go by his first name only - his reasoning being that people had to pay more attention to him if they used his first name, rather than calling him "Brightmore", and gave him more of a sense that he was still valued as a person.

It was the reason the woman of his dreams wasn't there with him right that moment, watching some other woman being announced as the next Duchess of York.

Niles observed the future duchess turn and get into the car. The duke quickly followed, and without another word – the Royal Family was very private, after all, and the reporters had managed to catch the actual proposal – closed the door on the reporters. The cameras chased the car for as long as they were able to, but it was soon lost to sight, and so was the Range Rover full of their bodyguards.

The camera that belonged to the news channel the television was switched to then panned back to the reporter, who spoke a few words about the couple, before sending the feed back to the studio. The anchor even joined in with the well-wishes, and was in the middle of wishing them a lifetime of happiness together, when suddenly the television was abruptly switched off.

Niles turned, to find Fran staring at the blank screen along with him. She had the remote pointing at the device which had been the bearer of so much bad news in recent times. She sighed, threw the remote onto the sofa, and looked at him.

"I'm so sorry, Scarecrow," she said softly.

Niles tried (fruitlessly) not to scowl at the former nanny. Right then he didn't need anyone's condescending looks, he couldn't bear the pitiful stares that would sure be directed at him for the foreseeable future. He needed to be alone – to disappear for a while.

"Don't be," he hissed, storming out of the house, his destination uncertain as the tears flowed down his cheeks.

He had once had such high hopes to be the man for her, to be the one who she'd call husband...

But now those dreams lay on the floor. Babcock had left him behind, and even if what he wanted most in the world was to erase her from his memory, he knew he'd never be able – nor wanted – to do so.

AN: Hello Hello! Well, TheCrownedLioness got inspired for another colaboration! We hope you enjoy the emotional ride this fic is going to be and would appreciate feedback!

H&L