Deceived, Yet Drawn to You - Chapter 28

Someone who did nothing but lie buried in bed, at that. Isabelle didn’t bother voicing the rest of the remark aloud and instead dismissed Albert with a flick of her chin.

“Send those women back to the capital at once.”

“…Understood.”

The Duchess watched the old butler retreat for a moment with an expression of clear distaste. Albert had served the Libert family since the previous duke and had lived in Eldenvale longer than anyone. The fact that a man with such influence within the estate was consistently indulgent toward Edmund, whom she regarded as a thorn in her side, had irritated her for some time.

But she couldn’t simply dismiss a long-serving loyal retainer of the Libert house. Which meant she needed to rely on the Duke’s authority as soon as possible.

Pressing a hand to her throbbing forehead, Isabelle began walking toward the bedroom where the noise had come from. It was the bedroom of her beloved Rufus.

What entered Isabelle’s sight the moment she crossed the threshold wasn’t the shattered glass scattered messily across the floor, but her son curled up pitifully on the bed. Rufus couldn’t lift his drooping gaze.

“My son.”

“…Mother….”

When Rufus raised his head, a flush of red colored his face. He strongly resembled Isabelle in beauty, with delicate, refined features. His sensitive disposition, as fragile as something that might scatter in a strong wind, was written plainly across his face.

They said his physical issues were inherited through the maternal line. Isabelle, who herself had once struggled terribly to conceive, squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before opening them again and placing a hand on Rufus’s shoulder.

“It’s all right. How could women so utterly vulgar hope to soothe you? We’ll look for another way.”

“It’s not them who are the problem. I’m the problem.”

Rufus muttered in a voice tight with suffocation, “It won’t stand. No matter what I do….”

He had gone all the way to Rorschach, the so-called mystical land of the East, and undergone every possible treatment, but nothing worked. Isabelle knew this well too, having exhausted every avenue herself for infertility treatment. There was no way to perfectly restore a ruined sexual function.

“That bastard Edmund is said to be enjoying life in Borsa, changing women every night….”

As Rufus muttered as if to himself, a flash of rage rose briefly in his eyes.

“I’m stuck in Eldenvale at this age, and this is my life? Even when naked women come pouring into my bed, I can’t do anything.”

“Calm yourself, Rufus.”

“But it won’t stand. No matter what woman you bring me, it’s useless…!”

Isabelle tightened her grip slightly on Rufus’s shoulder as he grew agitated.

“If you have no intention of letting that fact become known to the entire world, then lower your voice. No matter how much this place is our domain, we must be cautious. You must not give them even a single sound to overhear.”

“Then what am I supposed to do? With my condition like this, I’m about to be pushed out of the line of succession!”

“You are my son. Even if the sky were to fall, the fact that you are the rightful heir of Libert will not change.”

There wasn’t a trace of hesitation in Isabelle’s voice.

“If there’s someone who dares, without knowing their place, to threaten your position, the best course is to leave them no room even to breathe.”

“Are you… talking about Edmund?”

“Anyone at all. And surely I don’t need to speak aloud the name that should be dealt with first, do I?”

Isabelle gently stroked the shoulders of Rufus, slumped and drained of strength. Rufus stared into empty space, grinding his teeth.

“That bastard… I heard rumors he’s getting married soon. They say the name of the Marquis of Archibald’s eldest daughter is even being mentioned as a potential bride.”

“He’s trying to solidify his position. Ever since he was young, he’s been scrambling to claw his way up to a place he was never meant to reach. A man whose head is filled with nothing but ambition. His scheme is obvious.”

“Then if Edmund is plotting something, shouldn’t we stop him before it’s too late?”

“That’s right, Rufus. My clever son. If we wait too long, his roots will grow deep, and then it’ll be difficult to tear him out.”

Isabelle’s gaze darkened as she stared out the window, beyond which the night had dropped like a black curtain.

“But you see, bringing someone down doesn’t require a blade.”

Rufus didn’t reply. He simply bit down hard on his lip, then leaned his cheek into his mother’s embrace. As their strange bond deepened, silence stretched on between mother and son.

***

It was a bright spring weekend afternoon, the kind where everything felt fully in bloom. Chails, the most prosperous residential district in the capital, Borsa, was peaceful as ever. It was such a quiet, leisurely day that the recent turmoil felt like a distant memory.

Even on a day off, Edmund was dressed impeccably as he gazed through the window at the clear tree-lined avenue and the lakeside park beyond. Though he appeared relaxed as he took in Chails’s beautiful scenery, his mind was filled entirely with a single face.

Blair’s face, so easy to read, always held humiliation, confusion, and a small spark of rebellion like a buried ember. It wasn’t difficult to fan that spark into flame. And once it burned, deciding where that heat would be directed was also his role.

Edmund had merely pointed out the direction. So that Blair would begin to doubt the shackles binding her, and seek an escape on her own. In the end, the woman would snap the will that had once been so firm.

Wasn’t it admirable, really? He even found it fascinating that a woman like her had appeared before him as if by fate. Because she wasn’t perfect, she was perfect for him.

Surviving in noble society was simple. You either pressed forward with the cards you already held, or you seized better ones from someone else. Edmund, whose birth carried a stain, was far more accustomed to the latter.

He judged Blair to be the better card. He intended to make full use of the nerve hidden beneath her innocence and the decisiveness that could turn crisis into opportunity.

He’d spoken sweet words as if awakening her, but in truth, it was no different from using her. With mutual benefit guaranteed, what was there to complain about? As long as the outcome was favorable, the process didn’t matter. That was Edmund’s creed.

Even if Blair refused to take his hand, he would lose nothing. He could always carve out another path.

Just then, as Edmund enjoyed the fine weather, his eyes caught sight of someone approaching from afar. A woman wearing a wide-brimmed hat that hid half her face and a dark dress that swayed lightly with each step. The very woman who had filled his thoughts moments ago was now walking toward his townhouse.

As she checked the address one number at a time and moved forward bit by bit, her expression revealed hesitation. Tension and anticipation mingled subtly, and each time she lifted and lowered her head, sunlight and shadow alternated across her face, making it difficult to look away.

Edmund slowly curved his lips upward. The way she hesitated yet steadily closed the distance was exactly what he’d expected, and it pleased him.

After all, someone who takes a step forward only after agonizing over the choice is always easy to catch.

So Edmund remained leaning against the window frame without moving. He waited at ease, stealing every moment where the woman’s hesitation and resolve crossed. He waited silently, to watch Blair knock on the door, and the instant it opened, to witness her determination and draw her completely over to his side. Six steps left, five, four. As the numbers dwindled, her hesitation peeled away.

Before long, a heavy knock from the door knocker broke the quiet of Chails in place of a bell. Edmund looked down at Blair standing before the door for a brief moment, then turned and left the study.

Descending the stairs, he soon grasped the iron handle and swung the front door open. As their gazes collided through the opening, Blair’s bright eyes trembled faintly.

She looked fairly composed, as though she’d steadied her breathing while waiting for the door to open, but the moment she faced him directly, she couldn’t help tensing up. Or perhaps she was harboring anticipation.

“When I told you to come to my residence, I thought you’d be frightened and run away.”

Edmund didn’t bother hiding the pleasure tinging his voice either. Blair bit down hard on her lower lip.

“Lady Twyford turned out to be a surprisingly bold young lady.”

“…I won’t lie and say I was hoping for a warmer welcome.”