Chapter 31

After leaving Chails, Blair wasn’t given the leisure to dwell at length on her tangled emotions. Just as he’d notified her, a letter arrived inviting her to a party celebrating the success of the exhibition. It happened to be a rare occasion when the Count of Twyford was staying with her at the townhouse.

“Count, a letter arrived a moment ago.”

As he was in the middle of lunch, a maid approached him carrying a silver tray. Sitting across from him, quietly working her cutlery, Blair lifted her gaze in passing. On the tray lay an envelope sealed with dark red wax, and the Count of Twyford seemed to recognize at once the family crest stamped into the seal.

“This is the Libert family seal, isn’t it?”

With that, he promptly tore open the envelope and checked its contents. Seeing the invitation Edmund had sent, Blair slowly swallowed a sip of water. Soon, a scoffing laugh rang out.

“So that’s who it is. That notorious bastard. Flaunting the family seal like this and even hosting a banquet. Looks like he’s had a taste of power, has he?”

“….”

“This really is the end of days. The Duke of Libert is dying, strange rumors are going around that the eldest lost his manhood, and now it seems a guy with questionable blood is about to climb into the dukedom.”

“…Are you not planning to attend the party?”

“What kind of foolish question is that?”

On the Count of Twyford’s face, dark ambition gleamed as if he were calculating profit.

“He hasn’t shaken the label of bastard, but he’s still a strong candidate to inherit the Libert name. They say the boy has a knack for business too. There’s no harm in making the acquaintance of someone like that.”

Edmund was right. As a bastard who hadn’t yet become a full duke, her father’s view of him was inevitably unfavorable. Her father would surely weigh Edmund against the Dorman family. That was why Edmund must have chosen a method that left him no choice but to be selected.

‘Did that man consider, even a little, the hardship I’ll have to bear?’

…What use was such a question now? Blair had already stepped into a territory she couldn’t turn back from. After wavering over whether to live her entire life trapped in a cage, or to step outside it and try to spread her wings despite the unknown dangers, she’d chosen the latter.

“…Blair. Look here. Your name is on the guest list.”

“Ah.”

Pulled from her thoughts, Blair lifted her head. Unsure how to respond, she hesitated, then nodded.

“I see. Would it be all right if I attend together with you, Father?”

“No. I mean, only your name is listed.”

Blair froze, and at the same time, a heavy silence settled over the table. Sending an invitation to the townhouse where the Count of Twyford was staying, yet requesting only her attendance, wasn’t that blatantly obvious?

Fortunately, the Count of Twyford didn’t seem to find anything strange about it.

“Looks like he plans to throw a party just for the young ones. That’s how the capital’s nobility amuse themselves. Crude and vulgar.”

“Then Lord Dorman will attend as well. I recall hearing that he and Lord Libert were classmates at boarding school.”

This time, it was her father who fell silent. He cleared his throat briefly, then nodded as if granting permission.

“They say it’ll be held at the Bermondsey Gallery on the weekend evening, so make sure you arrive on time.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Always be mindful of your conduct and behave with propriety. Your name must never end up on someone’s lips.”

In her mind, she pictured herself doing the exact opposite of his words, but Blair silently lowered her head.

***

The Bermondsey Gallery, her destination, was a place she had visited once before. It was there that she’d viewed the paintings while being personally escorted by Edmund, before Augier’s exhibition officially opened.

Perhaps it was then. The moment when her heart had been helplessly seized by the man.

Carrying her complicated feelings, Blair arrived at the gallery and handed her invitation to the doorman guarding the entrance. She then stepped inside, where a beautiful string melody flowed through the space.

The guests filling the gallery had formed themselves into small groups. Befitting a party hosted by the Lord of Libert at the height of the evening, every one of them wore elegant evening attire as they admired Augier’s works, clinked champagne glasses, or exchanged laughter-filled conversation. Polished smiles, gleaming like golden masks, were the language spoken here.

Blair slowly crossed the center of the hall, sweeping her gaze around. She didn’t yet see any uncomfortable faces like Isaac Dorman or Nicoletta. Instead, a familiar face caught her attention from afar.

“….”

Edmund stood with two elegantly dressed ladies. And of all places, it was in front of Augier’s final work, the piece that had left the deepest impression on Blair.

Was he giving them the same explanation as well? Praising the painting for its serenity and beauty, then revealing that it was the last piece Augier painted before throwing himself to his death, imbued with a peace close to resignation?

At that moment, their eyes met. It felt as if the string performance that had been flowing softly like background noise suddenly stopped. Blair didn’t know what expression she was wearing. As their gazes locked, Edmund nodded lightly, his face still holding the smile he’d been wearing mid-conversation. He added a few words as if asking the ladies’ pardon, then soon parted the crowd and walked toward her.

“Lady Twyford.”

“…Lord Libert.”

“You came. Since it was a formal invitation, I wondered whether you might be unable to attend due to your father’s opposition.”

“I was able to persuade my father sufficiently.”

At the words laden with subtle meaning, Edmund merely wore a faint smile as he looked down at Blair.

“Shall we wet your throat first?”

“That would be best.”

Edmund naturally guided Blair to the table where the drinks were laid out. He picked up a non-alcoholic beverage and was about to pour a glass for her himself.

“I want to get a little drunk today.”

Shaking her head, Blair lightly placed her hand over his wrist as he tilted the bottle. Their gazes lingered on the empty glass, then slowly tangled together.

“Isn’t arming yourself with intoxication a dangerous strategy?”

“Tonight, I just don’t think I can handle it sober.”

“Ah.”

Edmund let out a short laugh and picked up a bottle of champagne. White foam rose into the glass and quickly burst apart.

“I thought you were a bold young lady, coming alone into a man’s place and locking lips with him.”

“Other people’s gazes scrape and claw at me. You’ve never looked at me that way, Lord Libert. That’s probably why I was able to show myself honestly.”

Still smiling with ease, he tilted his head slightly. “And what kind of look is that, exactly?”

“A gaze that doesn’t judge or pass verdict.”

“There must have been eyes that clearly desired you. It seems those didn’t displease you.”

“I think it’s because that gaze felt like a mirror to me.”

Blair gave a brief retort to his joke, whose true intent she couldn’t read. Then she lifted the champagne glass he’d filled for her. Edmund raised his own glass as well, and the two glasses clinked lightly. A clear sound rang out, and the surrounding attention, already stealing glances at them, grew just a little stronger.

Blair silently took a sip of the champagne. As she swallowed the carbonation curling around her tongue, tiny bubbles popped inside her throat. It wasn’t a strong drink, so it wasn’t hard to swallow, but it was enough to make her heart, weak to alcohol, beat half a step faster. It lent her plenty of nerve to step onto tonight’s stage.

“The aroma is strong. It’s enough to dull the senses.”

“What should I do, then? I’d rather none of the sensations you’re feeling be dulled at all.”

With a meaningful smile, Edmund leaned in and whispered softly in Blair’s ear.

“I want to kiss you right now.”

“…You said you wouldn’t inflate the scandal in such an obvious way.”

“That’s not for the sake of scandal. It’s purely personal desire.”

Was this, too, part of the plan he’d laid out? It had to be. A man with a large build and striking looks who drew attention just by standing still was openly showing interest in Blair. How could anyone not look?