Deceived, Yet Drawn to You - Chapter 18

“After going to Eldenvale, my resolve became firm.”

If you’re going to burn a crown, shouldn’t you try wearing it first?

Having grabbed the jacket he’d left hanging on the rack, Edmund pushed open the door to the examination room.

“See you soon, Ben.”

“Hey! You can’t just leave without finishing what you were saying!”

Ignoring Benjamin’s insistence, the man closed the door and left the office.

***

The black sedan carrying Edmund passed through a tree-lined street thick with blooming cherry blossoms and entered Chails. Soon, the car came to a stop, and Edmund stepped into the townhouse. The butler who’d been waiting bowed respectfully.

“Master, a letter has arrived.”

Edmund nodded as he took the stiff envelope adorned with a red ribbon. His footsteps were unhurried as he headed for his bedroom.

Entering the space arranged entirely to his taste, a satisfied breath slipped out. He placed the letter on the desk and walked toward the window. When he threw it open, a fragrant breeze flowed in. In the lakeside park laid out across from the house, flowers and greenery filled every corner of his view, and water rippled gently under the soft afternoon sunlight. As Edmund gazed at the beautiful spring scenery, Blair Twyford suddenly came to mind.

She dressed like a proper young lady, but when you looked closely, traces of youth still lingered. The softly rounded fullness of her cheeks, the fine down on her earlobes….

She tried to behave demurely, just as she’d been taught as the daughter of a noble house, but the honest and spirited flashes that slipped out from time to time suited his tastes more.

Edmund scoffed softly and pulled a cigarette from his trouser pocket, holding it between his lips. Tastes, really. Was he out of his mind?

And yet, when he recalled how he’d spent the entire exhibition and their walk by the river watching nothing but her shining eyes and the constant flutter of her lashes, he couldn’t deny that the woman was beautiful.

“I believe you’re nothing like the scandals surrounding you, Lord Libert.”

Edmund drew deeply on the cigarette he’d lit. After exhaling the dull smoke, he murmured quietly, “She doesn’t even consider that I might be something far more base.”

Was she naive, or reckless? It made him want to see just how far she could break. There was nothing more laughable than the ruins of fragile idealism.

“How will she take it, I wonder.”

He hadn’t known Blair for long. At most, they’d met only three or four times. Even so, Edmund was quick to see through a person’s temperament and disposition. That was why he’d never expected his first impression of that rigid woman to change.

A typical noble lady. She hadn’t grown up doing hard labor, but it didn’t seem like she’d been showered with affection or care from her parents either.

A woman educated within a narrow mold, with the sole purpose of becoming an obedient wife. Women like that inevitably erased themselves over time. In the process, some would naturally grow hollow, forced to reflect on their own worth. Blair seemed like one of them. He’d sensed a faint hint of defiance.

But only that much.

As for whether she seemed like a woman who would commit a true transgression by going against her father’s will, the answer was no.

It had been the same on the day they walked together along the Ridgeway River. It was a public place, but with nothing more than a flimsy parasol, she’d still walked shoulder to shoulder with him. Yet, fearing suspicion from the servants, she’d stubbornly refused his company afterward and hurried off without looking back. The rebelliousness of a woman flirting with deviation could not cross beyond that line.

“Then all that’s left is to make her accept it.”

Edmund’s gaze shifted to the letter he’d left on the desk. With the Dorman marquisate’s seal stamped in gold on the envelope, there was no need to guess what it contained. With a cigarette still between his lips, he slit the envelope open using a paper knife. On the cream colored, high-quality paper inside, a message inviting him to an upcoming wedding was printed in bluish gray type.

Edmund lingered on Blair’s name for a long moment, then pressed the lit end of his cigarette against the invitation as if it were an ashtray, extinguishing it. After that, he turned his eyes toward the window.

Borsa, with spring in full bloom, was beautiful. Flowers blossomed in profusion, and each time he drew a breath, a sweet fragrance poured in. A slanted smile appeared on Edmund’s lips as he took it all in.

“Getting married in a beautiful season.”

He wasn’t speaking about Isaac and Blair.

***

The automobile that had come all the way from Borsa arrived in front of the Dorman marquisate’s mansion.

Blair stepped down from the car with the footman’s escort. Then she paused and looked up at the three-story mansion bathed in faint moonlight.

She was here today as an invited guest for Marquis Dorman’s birthday, but with the wedding date now set, this place would soon become her new residence.

It didn’t feel real. She wasn’t prepared. Like a puppet being pulled along wherever she was told, she’d ended up here before she knew it. Was this really the life she wanted? There was no point in asking herself. There was nothing she could do.

“Listen carefully, Blair.”

The Count of Twyford, who’d been leading the way, suddenly turned around and whispered in a stern voice.

“Marquis Dorman is a very fickle man. Even if he seems generous, the moment his mood turns, he’ll change his opinion as easily as flipping his palm.”

“….”

“So I won’t tolerate any mistakes before the wedding. Especially not on a day like today. Do you understand?”

It was a warning to be mindful of her conduct as the ceremony drew near. Once Isaac and Blair were bound as husband and wife, no matter how capricious Marquis Dorman might be, it would be troublesome to reverse matters.

Before the wedding took place….

“Let’s go inside now.”

As Blair turned the words over in her mind, she stopped walking. Put another way, it meant that for now, there was still a chance to turn back.

But how? And where to? Whenever she tried to follow those thoughts, she inevitably lost her way in a vast fog.

“What are you doing? Why aren’t you coming inside?”

“…Ah, I’m sorry, Father.”

At the Count’s urging, Blair straightened her clouded gaze and quietly followed after him. No matter how much she pondered it, it was a question with no visible answer.

***

The banquet was smaller in scale than the charity event she’d attended before, but it wasn’t all that different. Gentlemen gathered in small groups, laughing heartily as they talked, while ladies sat together around tables, sipping their drinks and enjoying conversation. Blair was among the women.

“How long does it take to travel from the Twyford estate to the capital?”

“About seven hours by train, madam.”

“My. That must have been terribly dull on the way down.”

“Surprisingly, it wasn’t.”

Blair shook her head at the polite remark from a lady whose name she couldn’t quite remember. It had been ten years since she’d last come to the capital, so rather than boredom, her curiosity had been doubled. If she’d known the purpose of the journey was her own marriage, it would’ve been entirely different.

“Ah! You must have been thrilled at the thought of meeting your fiancé!”

The noblewomen exchanged glances and giggled. Blair couldn’t bring herself to answer and awkwardly lifted the corners of her mouth. It was then that a coquettish voice cut in.

“Indeed, Lord Dorman is considered one of the most handsome men in high society.”

The comment came from a red-haired young lady seated at the edge of the table. Turning her head, Blair remembered that she’d met her before. It was Nicoletta, from the Viscount of Underhill’s family.

“You could say he’s the perfect candidate for a groom. Lady Twyford, you’re extremely fortunate.”

“Thank you, Lady Underhill.”

“Lord Dorman is very generous. I hope the passion he shares with his new bride will be as abundant as his temperament.”

Nicoletta lightly lifted her wineglass as she offered her congratulatory words. Whether she was a little drunk or simply wearing heavy makeup, the viscount’s daughter’s face was red like the wine in her glass. Blair gazed quietly at her. This time, she didn’t offer words of thanks.

“If we’re talking about a truly perfect groom candidate, there’s one right over there.”

When someone whispered, the ladies’ gazes all turned in that direction at once. As if on cue, sighs of admiration spilled out.

“Ah. Lord Libert.”

“You shouldn’t look at a gentleman like a ripe fig, madam.”

“But for someone so mature to still be unmarried, doesn’t he look exactly like a fig at its peak?”

A wave of playful laughter spread around the round table. They were speaking about Edmund, who was just entering the banquet hall with several gentlemen after returning from the smoking room. Of course, the reason the ladies praised him wasn’t only because of his tall, striking appearance that stood out even from a distance.

Anyone who had observed him at social gatherings would have known immediately. Edmund blended seamlessly into this place, as if he belonged there by nature. Aside from standing out like a central figure, he mixed effortlessly among the crowd. Knowing that Edmund didn’t particularly enjoy social events made it all the more remarkable.

What allowed him to handle social occasions with such ease? It was likely the sense of responsibility and duty born from his lineage and status.

Then why had Edmund still not married? That, after all, was a nobleman’s foremost duty.

“May I have your attention, everyone!”

Marquis Dorman, his voice thick with drink, raised it loudly to draw the room’s attention.

“Today’s gathering is to celebrate my birthday, but there’s another matter I wish to congratulate. My only son, Isaac, is getting married.”