Deceived, Yet Drawn to You - Chapter 3

Shamelessly, some of them even looked her over like the Marquis of Doven, as if examining a fresh slab of meat.

And no wonder, for the Count of Twyford was practically putting her on display like merchandise, hawking her as if she were for sale.

Realizing this, Blair secretly shook her head. It was the first time in her life she had felt such fierce defiance toward her father.

It wasn’t that she had never considered the idea of a marriage arrangement made without her consent. A woman was destined one day to bind herself to a man, and as a daughter of a noble family, her partner would inevitably be chosen by her father.

‘But not like this…’

Blair tried to hide her darkening expression by moistening her throat with cider, averting her gaze from those greasy stares. She thought she had grown fairly skilled at hiding her feelings, but this discomfort was too much to contain.

What would a wise and proper woman do in such a moment? No one had ever taught her. Unable to endure the repulsive looks any longer, Blair carefully addressed her father, who was chatting with a group of nobles.

“Father, I’d like to freshen up. May I go to the lounge for a moment?”

“Go on, then. See here, she does nothing without permission. Surely she will fulfill her role as mistress of a household with diligence…”

The count, heavily drunk, barely seemed to register what Blair had asked. Perhaps he thought that whatever she did would fall within predictable bounds, so he didn’t need to pay attention.

Suppressing her impatience, Blair turned away and quietly asked a passing footman where she might rest. She soon learned that there was a public lounge on the second floor of the banquet hall.

Gathering the hem of her dress, Blair ascended the stairs.

Unlike the noisy banquet hall below, the second floor, with its lounges and parlors, was rather deserted. The sounds rising from the hall seemed distant, as though coming from another world.

‘Was there even one decent man among them…?’

Ironically, Blair found herself recalling the men her father had just introduced. Except for the Marquis of Doven’s heir, who had been absent, not one of them appealed to her.

Regardless of appearance, it was the impression they gave. How could she feel any affection for men who had ogled her up and down with eyes gleaming like a starving pack of wolves?

She knew well that a conventional marriage alliance between noble houses carried interests she couldn’t grasp, and thus her father held full authority. She was bound to obey…

Blair let out a long sigh as she passed a bronze sculpture of a mermaid and headed toward the public lounge at the end of the corridor. Just then, she heard a sound—like a woman’s muffled sobbing.

“……?”

Thinking she might have misheard, she froze in place. But when she listened closely, the strange noise—half sob, half moan—was clearly seeping out from a nearby parlor whose door stood slightly ajar.

Was someone hurt?

It seemed likely. She had never heard such a peculiar sound before, and ignoring it felt impossible. After some hesitation, Blair approached the parlor a few steps away and carefully pushed the door. Already ajar, it opened smoothly without a sound.

“Excuse me. Do you need help?”

The dim room was lit by a single, faint lamp, making it hard to see clearly. Narrowing her eyes, Blair stepped inside, scanning her surroundings.

The room was fairly spacious. Two small sofas faced each other across a coffee table, a console held decorative silver plates and vases, and shelves lined with slightly dusty books filled one wall.

Then, Blair’s shawl slipped from her shoulders and fluttered to the floor. The cause was the balcony door on the left, left partially open.

‘…Oh dear.’

Bending down to retrieve it, Blair froze.

“Ah… ahh…”

The sound was closer now. No, it was unmistakably a moan. When heard through a closed door, it might have resembled the whimper of a wounded animal, but this was clearly something else.

Still bent toward her shawl, Blair turned her gaze toward the source of the noise.

Just a few steps away, a man’s jacket was tossed hastily on the stone floor. On top of it lay a woman’s undergarment, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. And in the most secluded corner of the parlor at last…

“Harder, harder.”

“……!”

Blair doubted both her eyes and ears. Two figures, backs turned to her, were pressed together like one body, repeating a certain movement, and in the dim light she saw they were a man and woman with their lower halves bare.

No fool could fail to understand what act those hidden in the parlor were engaged in. No, Blair admitted she was the fool. How foolish must she have been to mistake those “moans” for the sobs of a woman in need of help?

“Ah, ngh, ngh.”

“Nicole, hhh… can we try it a different way today?”

“No… that hurts, I said.”

“Just once.”

“You have been no good lately. There’s nothing charming about you, so why would I ever agree?”

“Do you think I want this engagement? My father told me to meet her once, what could I do? You know I only have you, my Nicole… Anyway, wait. The cream should be in my coat pocket.”

Still frozen in place as she bent to pick up her shawl, Blair rolled her eyes toward the coat on the floor. The item the man, thrusting his hips so fervently, was looking for was surely inside the very pocket of the jacket before her.

Her heart pounded as if broken. Blair felt faint with shock, unable to decide what to do. The dreadful situation that had come upon her so suddenly was beyond belief. At this rate, she would end up face-to-face with that half-naked man.

Should she turn and run for the parlor door? No, she would be discovered before she took even a few steps. Blair snapped her head around. Directly in her sight was the doorway to the balcony.

Yes, there. If she turned left toward the balcony, she could slip from the man’s view and escape the parlor, at least for a while. Staying there on the balcony until they finished was, to Blair, the best option.

Resolute, she stopped hesitating and moved quickly. Clutching her shawl in hand, she rushed outside and shut the balcony door as quietly as she could.

The chill night air wrapped around her nape and shoulders. Holding her breath, Blair listened to the sounds beyond the door. Thankfully, there was no sign she had been noticed.

‘I don’t think I was discovered.’

Though the woman’s peculiar moans soon rang out again, troubling as they were.

“Ahhh! Ahng!”

“…Why does she make such sounds?”

Clenching both fists, Blair muttered quietly as she turned around.

It was then that she realized. A tall man, one she had to tilt her head back fully to meet his gaze, was standing right before her.

“……!”

Blair, who almost never showed agitation, drew in a startled breath and froze stiff. The man also stood still, gazing steadily down at her. Their unexpected standoff lasted long enough that Blair found herself studying the man against her will.

With hair black as night, the man showed no sign of surprise at this sudden encounter. His long, horizontally drawn eyes looked almost indifferent, and the gray pupils fixed on Blair were chillingly still. His tall frame, backlit by moonlight, cast a large shadow over her.

“You are blocking the entrance.”

After watching her for a long while, the man finally spoke in a low voice. Half entranced by his striking face, Blair met his gaze. Only then did she notice the faint scent of tobacco clinging to him. Had he been smoking here alone?

“Would you step aside?”

“Ahhh! Ahng!”

And still, from inside, those bizarre moans echoed out.