Chapter 33

At some point, the hand that had been caressing Blair’s face pulled away. Edmund took out his pocket watch to check the time, then jerked his chin toward the direction Nicoletta had disappeared.

“It’d be better to move to a more visible spot.”

“Let’s do that.”

The two of them walked toward the wide-open hall. It was where the most people had gathered, with light finger foods and drinks laid out. As they were moving, Blair nearly bumped into someone, and Edmund lightly tugged her at the waist, drawing her into him. The contact was a bit excessive for a simple escort, and it lingered long enough in the sightlines of several people mingling in the crowd.

“I think I need to drink a bit more.”

Her head was a little dizzy from repeatedly sipping champagne, but Blair wasn’t brazen enough to withstand the attention clinging to her from all sides. Edmund readily led her to the table and refilled her glass. As he did, he glanced at her complexion.

“Why don’t you try smiling a little?”

“Do I look that stiff?”

“You don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself at all. You look less like a woman having an affair with me and more like someone being blackmailed.”

“I think I’m just nervous.”

As she drank the strongly carbonated liquor, Blair wiped her damp lips once with her finger. The man standing beside her started to say something, then stopped and fixed his gaze on her lips.

“Still, you don’t have to force yourself to grin like an idiot. There are plenty of ways to stage that sort of thing, aren’t there?”

“How?”

At Edmund’s question, Blair gave a small hiccup and fell into thought. She’d already witnessed her fiancé’s infidelity, so she could simply recall Isaac and Nicoletta’s behavior as reference.

Her fiancé’s lower body jerking obscenely back and forth, the woman’s legs bared white as she took him inside her.

“…No, that’s not it.”

Imagining the most revolting scene, Blair shook her head hard. She didn’t even realize she’d muttered aloud. As the alcohol took hold, words and thoughts she normally wouldn’t let slip began to spill out and tangle together.

It was better to think instead of the strangely unsettling touches that had stuck with her. Like when Nicoletta had first appeared…. That brought back the image of bright red painted fingertips slowly sliding up Isaac’s shoulder.

“For example… like this.”

Blair reached out and casually caught hold of Edmund’s arm. The solid feel of his body came through clearly even through layers of fabric, unfamiliar enough that she unconsciously curled her fingers and stroked him.

“How’s this?”

“It’s quite convincing.”

Edmund’s voice had dropped low. Only then did Blair realize she was groping him and tried to pull her hand away. At the same time, a large palm covered the back of her hand.

“There’s no need to stop. Someone’s watching.”

Blair glanced sideways, conscious of a group standing near a tall table. The women who’d been peeking at the two of them over ornate fans hurriedly fluttered them and averted their eyes. It seemed the effect was definite.

“What should I do next?”

At Blair’s question, Edmund twisted his lips slightly and let out a low laugh.

“Why not murmur something lovers secretly meeting behind their fiancé’s back might say?”

“Ah, um.”

“A little closer.”

As soon as her lips moved, a firm command followed. Blair blinked and leaned her upper body in. Their shoulders brushed lightly. The world spun, and feeling dizzy, she tightly grasped his hand with one of hers. His ash-gray eyes looked down at her without the slightest hint of agitation.

When she looked into those utterly impassive eyes, a strange desire sometimes reared its head. A desire to fluster this man.

Watching a man who revealed no emotion, Blair would occasionally fall into the illusion that she was facing a statue. He was that calm and cold. Wanting to shake such a man might not be all that strange. In fact, whenever she did manage to unsettle him, a peculiar thrill followed.

“I… I want to kiss you right now.”

Blair moved her lips as she returned the very words he’d once tossed at her teasingly.

“I want to go somewhere no one else is, and… carry on to the end the pleasure we couldn’t finish that day.”

Edmund stared at Blair’s whispering lips for quite a while. He slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers, and a faint smile formed at the corner of his mouth. Blair couldn’t readily tell what it meant.

“Not bad.”

Edmund murmured almost to himself as he lightly rubbed the champagne drop clinging to Blair’s lower lip with his thumb.

“You learn quickly, Lady Twyford, no matter what I teach you.”

“I’m honored by such high praise.”

“I’d appreciate it if you continue to live up to my high expectations.”

Just as she was about to retort, someone among the reveling crowd tilted a champagne glass and shouted, “I’d like to propose a toast to Lord Libert for hosting such a splendid banquet!”

The attention of the gathering, which had been subtly drawn their way, focused openly on him. Cheers followed, calling for his toast. It seemed the one expected to meet those expectations now wasn’t her, but him.

Without hesitation, Edmund mounted the podium set up at the center of the gallery. Holding her glass, Blair watched the man who now commanded everyone’s attention.

“First, I’d like to thank all of you for attending this meaningful occasion. I hope that the significance of tonight doesn’t end merely with commemorating Augier’s final work or celebrating the successful opening of the foundation’s exhibition.”

A heavy silence briefly settled over the hall. His low voice continued, “From time to time, cracks and ripples come to us. Yet that instability can also give rise to our most brilliant moments. Like the exhibition’s theme, River Bathed in Light, I raise this glass in the hope that everyone gathered here will not lose the will to build a radiant life of their own.”

When the toast ended, a fairly long round of applause followed. Guests began draining their glasses one by one. Edmund’s gaze, as he scanned those looking up at him with a bit of distance, finally caught on Blair. Meeting that layered look, she downed the last of her champagne in one go.

6. Ripples

The next day, Blair woke up with a hangover. She’d only drunk two or so glasses of champagne, but being weak to alcohol played a part, and she’d never drunk that much in her life, so she’d ended up intoxicated.

As she tried to trace her hazy memories, what she could recall was Edmund supporting her unsteady body and seeing her to the car, the gazes that had clung to her from all sides, and the question of Isaac, who never showed up in the end.

Even so, she woke at the same time as always. She filled her stomach with juice instead of breakfast and forced herself to focus so the day would pass as normally as possible, checking that the servants had begun their respective duties.

However, that peaceful routine, like the calm before a storm, was broken just past noon.

“Miss.”

Blair, who had been checking the remaining provisions in the underground storeroom with a maid, pricked up her ears. The urgent voice belonged to Mrs. Norris, the head maid.

“The Count just returned home, and as soon as he came in, he asked for you.”

“…Where is he now?”

“He’s in his study.”

“I’ll go up.”

Though she wondered if the rumors had really spread in just one night, it also felt like the inevitable had finally arrived. Blair steadied her heart, which dropped and then began to pound rapidly, and climbed the stairs.

The door to the study wasn’t even closed. She paused in front of it to catch her breath, then spoke quietly, “I’m coming in, Father.”

When she pushed the door open, the room was filled with an air sharp as a needle point. The Count of Twyford, who had been staring out the window, slowly turned around as she entered. His face was deeply twisted, and fury burned in his eyes.

“Close the door.”

His voice, filled with anger, filled the study. Blair silently shut the door and folded her hands neatly in front of her. The heavy silence pressed in on her chest.

“Is it true that you came home drunk last night?”

Blair nodded without daring to lift her head.

“It seems I drank too much of the toast at the banquet.”

“So you truly have lost your mind.”

Grinding his teeth, the Count spat out each word and threw something. Blair’s gaze followed it as it brushed past her forehead and fell to the floor. It was a newspaper article from a daily that dealt in high society gossip.

“Read it. Your disgrace is carved into print, word for word.”