Deceived, Yet Drawn to You - Chapter 10

‘So what exactly do you want to do?’

Go up and introduce yourself? Or maybe thank him? But before that, shouldn’t you at least exchange names first….

While Blair hesitated, trapped in her own circling thoughts, the man exhaled one last puff of smoke, put out his cigarette, and got into the car. The sound of the engine rumbled, and the black automobile glided smoothly out of Fitzrovia’s main street.

“…I’ve lost my mind.”

Watching him until the car completely disappeared from sight, Blair murmured quietly, almost like a sigh. Then she turned and walked toward the car where her driver was waiting.

***

About an hour’s drive from Borsa stood the estate owned by the Duke of Libert.

This vast land, called Eldenvale, was surrounded by thick forests and a misty lake. Perhaps because of that, once one entered the densely lined pine road leading inward, it felt as though the rest of the world had vanished entirely.

And at the very heart of Eldenvale stood the ducal mansion.

“Welcome home, young master.”

It was long past sunset when Edmund finally arrived at the mansion and was greeted by the butler, Albert, before stepping into the main building. The grand entrance that magnified the mansion’s sense of authority was so massive that it took several strong men to push or pull the doors open.

“It’s been a while, sir. It’s quite late, would you care to have dinner first?”

“No. I’ll be leaving for Borsa again soon. Where’s Father?”

“The Duke retired to bed a short while ago.”

So his condition has worsened. Even after being diagnosed with an incurable illness, he’d still stayed in his study until dawn. Edmund, his perfectly tied necktie already neat beyond reason, adjusted it once more as he crossed the spacious hall.

The main building of the ducal mansion, steeped in centuries of history, was magnificent enough to overwhelm any first-time visitor. Massive stone columns supported the seemingly endless ceiling, tall windows stretched across the walls, hundreds of candles flickered from a grand chandelier, and portraits of former dukes lined every wall.

The mansion itself was history. And on such a quiet night as this, the atmosphere felt even more detached from the world. Even though this was the home where he’d been born and raised, it made him feel suffocated.

“I suppose I won’t be able to greet him, then. What about the Duchess? Is she asleep?”

The butler, walking a few paces behind, didn’t answer immediately. The sound of their footsteps echoing on the marble floor cut through the heavy silence. After a short pause, the butler finally replied.

“No, sir. Her Grace is in the sitting room.”

Of course she was. He’d sent a telegram ahead to announce his visit. The Duchess always received him as though he were a guest. Outwardly, she treated him with courtesy, but her unspoken message was always clear: he was not to enter the rooms where the true members of the household lived.

It was as if to say he could never truly belong to this family.

A noblewoman to her core, she revealed her hostility toward her stepson in such refined ways.

“You must be tired. Why not rest here tonight? It’s late, and it’s been some time since you’ve come home.”

“I’m fine, Albert. I have a business meeting in Borsa tomorrow morning that I must attend.”

Thank you. As they reached the corridor leading to the sitting room, Edmund added briefly with a nod. The elderly butler could do nothing but stop there, and Edmund began walking quietly down the red-carpeted hallway.

At last, he reached the elaborately carved door of the sitting room and raised his hand to knock.

“It’s me. May I come in for a moment?”

After a few seconds of silence, a voice granted permission from within.

“Come in.”

Edmund gripped the handle and pushed open the heavy door. The air inside was thick with artificial perfume and warmth; the fireplace burned year-round. Wherever the Duchess of Libert, Isabelle, was, it was always the same.

Seated at the round table, Isabelle was elegantly dressed even at this late hour. Her silk gown was embroidered with gold thread, and she wore a necklace and earrings of large emeralds. Edmund suppressed a bitter smile.

“I didn’t expect you to visit at this hour. It seems you still haven’t learned what the word ‘courtesy’ means.”

“I was only sparing you the trouble, since you wouldn’t have dined with me anyway.”

Isabelle, who had just lifted her teacup, froze and looked up at Edmund. Hatred filled her eyes as she stared at her stepson.

You’re taking off the mask sooner than I expected. Well, I can understand, since you’ve been more sensitive these days.

He couldn’t completely fault her hostility toward him. Isabelle, the Duchess of Libert and the Duke’s lawful wife, had once been a paragon of grace. After suffering several miscarriages, she had no choice but to agree when her husband decided to take a mistress. Yet, by a cruel twist of fate, she discovered she was pregnant at the same time.

Thus, of the two children born bearing the Libert name, one was the son of the legitimate wife, and the other, the despised child of a mistress.

For Isabelle, Edmund had always been an indelible stain and humiliation. Now that her grown son, Rufus, had been declared infertile and stripped of his right to inherit, her grief was not entirely incomprehensible.

“Happy birthday.”

Edmund placed the gift he’d purchased from the jeweler in Fitzrovia on the table. Isabelle’s cold gaze shifted to the neatly wrapped box, then back to Edmund. She rang the small bell beside her, summoning a maid.

A maid entered the sitting room and bowed deeply before Isabelle. Edmund stood still as a statue, exhaling quietly.

“What is it, Madam?”

“Milia, the young master who left home has once again troubled himself to bring a gift. Take it and put it in the place I always keep it.”

The maid, still bowing, glanced nervously toward Edmund. Her thin hands trembled faintly where they were clasped in front of her.

“Hurry.”

A suffocating silence filled the air. Unable to disobey Isabelle’s order, the maid approached the table, carefully picked up the box, and dropped it into the trash bin in the corner of the sitting room. Isabelle smiled, satisfied.

“Thank you. You may go now.”

“Yes, Madam.”

Pale as death, the maid hurried out of the room without meeting Edmund’s eyes. Even as he watched the necklace worth several thousand flangs being tossed into the trash, he didn’t so much as blink.

“Take note, Edmund. The only gift I truly want….”

Having regained her composure, Isabelle spoke with an elegant smile.

“…is news of your untimely death.”

“Unfortunately, there’s another piece of news that arrived before that.”

“…What?”

“The report that your beloved heir was declared infertile.”

The last thread of Isabelle’s reason snapped. Overwhelmed by shame, she clutched the tablecloth tightly, her face flushing red with fury.

“You—you! You wretched, lowborn thing!”

“If Your Grace would help me maintain at least a semblance of courtesy, I’d be grateful.”

“So, you’re showing your true colors now. I’ve heard all about the schemes you’ve been plotting behind the scenes. You’re searching for a bride, aren’t you, to secure the dukedom for yourself?”

“You seem to be under a grave misapprehension. The candidates for that bride were personally chosen and approved by Father himself. Unless you’ve mistaken me for the Duke, even before the succession.”

“That title belongs to Rufus. It’s been his since birth. You, a bastard, have no right even to dream of it!”

“Yet, by fate, the opportunity fell to me, a lawful Libert, no matter how base my origin. Don’t worry, Mother, I won’t trouble you for a congratulatory visit when the time comes.”

Isabelle, who had half-risen from her chair, sank back into it, clutching her neck. Her face flushed crimson with anger so violent it made her tremble to her fingertips.

Pretending to be noble for too long was bound to make one sick. With a faint scoff, Edmund pulled his pocket watch from his inner jacket and checked the time. It was about time to leave.

“How amusing. Did you just call it fate?”

Breathing heavily, Isabelle lifted her head, her bloodshot eyes fixed on Edmund.