Chapter 117

The sound of water sloshing echoed through the bathroom. Warm bathwater poured over her shoulders and back again, and soon a sponge covered in fragrant foam gently brushed her skin. His large hands moved with surprising delicacy, and it wasn’t unpleasant, so Blair hugged her knees and quietly let herself relax into his touch.

…But Edmund assisting with her bath. He was someone who occasionally caught her off guard in unexpected ways, but she hadn’t imagined he would go this far to care for her. Her lips parted slightly before she glanced up at him.

“Who was the call from?”

The sponge that had been moving slowly near her shoulder blade stopped. Blair added carefully, almost as if making an excuse.

“It might not have been work-related… so I wondered if it was something urgent.”

“It was from my attendant.”

“….”

“You don’t need to worry.”

“…That’s a relief.”

His hands began moving again, and the water rippled gently. That was the end of his answer. She couldn’t bring herself to ask more. It felt like this quiet moment would shatter if she pressed further.

Hugging her knees, Blair suddenly felt that she was the only one left unguarded.

She was the only one exposing both body and heart, while Edmund remained wrapped in his perfect composure and flawless reasoning as always.

It felt unfair. More precisely, it saddened her in a strange way that she alone was so exposed.

“Ed.”

Her whisper echoed softly against the bathroom walls.

“Will you come in too?”

“…Into the bath?”

“Yes. You haven’t washed yet.”

“….”

“We could wash together and then have dinner….”

Her fingers moved slightly in the water, creating soft ripples. After a brief silence, Edmund let out a quiet laugh. The woman who had been blushing moments ago was now bold, and he seemed amused.

“All right, then.”

He stood from the edge of the tub, lowered the sleeves he’d rolled up, and began unbuttoning his shirt one by one. Blair watched him remove his top, but when his fingers moved toward his belt buckle, she quietly looked away.

Soon, Edmund slowly lowered himself into the bath. His solid frame settled across from her, and the water sloshed, brushing against her chest.

Only after the ripples settled did Blair lift her head. She saw his still-dry black hair, gray eyes, and that calm expression. Unlike her curled posture, his thick frame rested easily against the edge of the tub. His broad shoulders and well-defined muscles stood out clearly.

“Blair.”

“…Yes?”

“Why are you looking at me like you’re savoring me?”

“Do… do you have a problem with me looking at my man?”

She awkwardly mimicked his tone, and Edmund fell silent for a moment before letting out a bright laugh. Blair lowered her eyes and giggled, and the subtle tension between them eased.

Edmund reached out with a smile still on his face, and Blair took his hand and was drawn into his arms. She rested her cheek against his firm chest and exhaled quietly.

“How many noble couples bathe together like this?”

“Perhaps only us.”

“We even share the same bedroom.”

“We must love each other quite a lot.”

Edmund’s playful voice brushed against her ear. Blair tried to laugh with him, then blinked her wet lashes.

Love. She loved this man. She believed he loved her too. She wasn’t sure what motive his love began from, or what form it took, but she wasn’t confused about the feelings between them now.

If she pushed aside all doubt and anxiety, what remained was the fact that they were a married couple deeply in love.

So Blair believed what they needed most was an honest conversation, and now was the right time.

“Edmund.”

“Yes.”

“Our beginning was… a little unusual, but….”

She continued carefully, avoiding the word contract. She remembered the displeased expression he’d shown before.

“We’re very different now, aren’t we?”

“You think we’ve changed?”

“Of course. We have a child now, and I want to keep my place as your wife.”

“You already are.”

His wet hand slid slowly down her smooth back.

“You just need to stay by my side like this. That’s your entire role.”

“…Ed, I know you’re worried about me, but we can’t stay here forever. That’s why I’m saying this.”

“But this is what I want. You staying somewhere safe and at ease. I don’t want anything more than that.”

“You’re the duke, and I’m the duke’s wife. We can’t turn away from our reality forever.”

Edmund, who had answered lightly without hesitation, finally fell silent. His hand, which had been stroking her skin, slowed as if he were choosing his words. The man who had remained quiet for a moment spoke briefly.

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

Their chests pressed closely together, and their two hearts beat out of sync. Blair stayed like that for a long time, clinging to his neck, as if her sincerity might reach him.

When the bathwater began to cool, Edmund helped her out of the tub. He carefully wrapped her in a towel, then left the bathroom, saying he would check whether dinner was ready.

In the fading steam, Blair let out a deep breath. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, then sat on the small chair across from the sink and waited for Edmund to return.

***

Henry Twyford walked toward the drawing room, somewhat tense. The guest who’d come to his townhouse that morning was completely unexpected.

As he hurried down the hallway, Count Twyford suddenly stopped. An ugly mark remained on the empty wall where a large oil painting had once hung, sold off recently to cover his debts.

Damn. The guest must have seen this too.

Henry raised his voice for no reason, trying to cover his wounded pride.

“Mrs. Norris! Are the refreshments ready?”

“Please wait a moment, Count.”

“Hurry. This isn’t an ordinary guest.”

After months of unpaid wages, all the maids had left, and only the slow Mrs. Norris remained. Preparing refreshments on her own would take time.

Henry hurried forward impatiently. Standing before the drawing room door, he steadied his voice and opened it.

“Oh… what brings someone so distinguished here?”

The woman sitting upright on the sofa lifted her head.

“Duchess Libert.”

Henry curled his lips into a faint smile.

“No… now it’s my daughter who is the duchess. In any case, it’s an honor beyond measure for such a noble lady to seek me out. But what brings you here….”

“Count Twyford.”

Isabelle’s clear voice cut him off.

“There is something important I wish to discuss.”

“Yes, of course. Please, go ahead.”

Henry forced a smile and sat across from Isabelle. She was still beautiful, but the dark circles under her eyes and her gaunt complexion were unmistakable. The refined noblewoman he’d seen at Edmund and Blair’s wedding was nowhere to be found. However, since Rufus’s funeral had been delayed and his death kept strictly secret, Henry had no way of knowing the reason.

“Were you aware that the Duchess is with child?”

“…The Duchess… pardon? Blair? My daughter?”

Henry’s eyes widened in shock, having heard nothing of the matter. Isabelle lowered her gaze and continued calmly.

“She is carrying the child who will become the heir of Duke Libert.”

Isabelle slowly lifted her eyes and met Henry’s gaze.

“And as you know, the child’s maternal grandfather is you, Count Twyford.”

“Well, that’s….”

“Don’t you wish to reclaim what is yours?”

Henry Twyford stared at Isabelle in stunned silence.

“A townhouse this shabby, without even proper servants to attend you… it shouldn’t be left like this. As the maternal grandfather of the heir to the ducal house, shouldn’t you possess the wealth and honor befitting your position?”

Henry blinked, still unable to grasp her meaning, when Isabelle delivered the final blow.