Chapter 60
Along the riverbank in Borsa, where the late spring sun had reached its peak, rapeseed flowers bloomed in profusion. The golden waves shimmered under the sunlight, swaying slowly, while kingfishers splashed at the surface before shooting up like blue arrows.
Blair sipped her black tea as she gazed at the beautiful riverside park. Sitting on the terrace of a café on a quiet weekday afternoon and enjoying tea at leisure felt almost like a dream. It felt even more so because it was now something she could enjoy as a natural part of daily life, whenever she wished.
“You seemed very interested when Brücken came up at the party that day.”
She turned her head at the voice beside her. The woman sharing tea with her was the Countess of Gillingham, whom she had grown much closer to since the hunting gathering.
“As you know, it’s my hometown. I thought it would be nice to talk about it, even briefly, so I arranged this meeting. To have tea together as well.”
“I see. Thank you for such thoughtful consideration, madam.”
“Brücken always has clear weather like today. It’s also a perfect place to travel with one’s husband. I hear you two haven’t even gone on a honeymoon yet.”
Blair smiled without answering, but her heart thudded softly in her chest. In truth, what she had imagined when Brücken came to mind that day was her life one year later. A life without Edmund. A life she would have to live entirely on her own, after her contract with him ended.
“Your hometown sounds very beautiful. If it’s a land of artists, there must be many opportunities to collect or appreciate artworks.”
“Of course. There are many renowned galleries, and you can even purchase works directly from young painters in modest ateliers. Augier built his reputation by selling paintings in such small studios at first. A dealer with a good eye could become wealthy overnight.”
“I imagine so.”
Blair’s eyes sparkled as she listened. Sensing that her interest was genuine, the normally reserved countess began to speak a little more freely.
“Perhaps because of that, Brücken’s art market is the most active on the entire continent. Every spring and autumn, large-scale art auctions are held, and nobles and art dealers from other countries flock there each time. Of course, many people collect paintings out of passion rather than investment. It’s a place where you can acquire wonderful works at reasonable prices.”
Blair nodded and shifted her gaze beyond the railing. She lingered on the sight of the Ridgeway River flowing by, stained with rapeseed flowers. Suddenly, she imagined herself flowing like that water, moving on to somewhere far beyond.
It was a vague future, but since it was a life she’d build freely on her own, it should have carried a sense of anticipation and excitement. Yet for now, a strange emptiness and an unexplainable weight came first. Why was that? Was it because the presence that should have been erased first was growing clearer with each passing day?
Lost in thoughts of the future, Blair shook her head and tried to brush them away. Even so, the silhouette of the man etched deeply into her heart refused to fade easily.
After leaving the riverside café, the two women began walking along the river. The sunlight was warm and the air cool, perfect weather for a stroll. Blair and the Countess of Gillingham walked beneath lace parasols, continuing their conversation, when they spotted a gaunt woman approaching from a distance, clutching a paper bag filled with groceries.
Blair narrowed her eyes at the sight of the woman’s red hair, which looked strangely familiar. Then, as the woman drew closer, her foot caught on a stone, and she stumbled.
“Oh my!”
She’d fallen so hard that the ladies and gentlemen strolling nearby turned in surprise to look at her. From the crumpled paper bag, rye bread and several apples spilled out and rolled across the ground. Blair picked up an apple that had rolled to her feet and walked toward the red-haired woman.
“Here….”
And then she couldn’t continue.
The woman sprawled on the ground was none other than Nicoletta Underhill, Isaac Dorman’s mistress.
Her once lustrous red hair was now dull and tangled, and her bare face was pale, the skin stretched tight over her bones like a skull. The body visible above the unclean neckline of her dress was so thin that her breastbone stood out starkly.
Nicoletta, who had reached out with a thin arm to take the apple, also looked thoroughly startled. When she recognized Blair, her bloodshot eyes widened, then swept over Blair’s markedly different attire, and her lips pressed together tightly. Nicoletta didn’t even take the apple Blair offered. She scrambled to her feet, hastily picked up the remaining rye bread smeared with dirt, and quickly moved away from her.
Watching Nicoletta’s retreating figure, limping slightly as she went, Blair was seized by emotions she couldn’t put into words. She hadn’t loved her former fiancé, nor had she been close to his mistress. At most, they had shared an awkward acquaintance. But seeing a woman who had once been so dazzling reduced to such a miserable state felt like a blow to the head.
What on earth had happened to her? Even if her family wasn’t especially powerful, wasn’t Nicoletta still the daughter of a viscount?
“Do you know that lady?”
The Countess of Gillingham approached carefully and asked. She didn’t seem to know who Nicoletta was. Blair continued to stare at the figure limping away for a moment longer, then let out a quiet sigh and shook her head.
“…No. I don’t know her.”
***
After parting with the Countess of Gillingham and promising to meet again, Blair got into the automobile bound for Eldenvale. About an hour later, when she arrived at the ducal residence, less than welcome news was waiting.
“A telegram has arrived from Young Master Libert, madam.”
“Has it?”
“Yes. He asked me to inform you that he expects to return late tonight.”
Blair accepted the small telegram slip Albert handed her. In the message Edmund had sent, he explained that something unexpected had come up and that he would likely return around dawn.
He must be very busy. Still, at least he took the time to send word in the midst of it all. Folding the slip, she looked up at the butler.
“I see. He must be extremely busy these days.”
“Even so, since you’re here, it seems he plans to return to Eldenvale no matter how late it gets.”
A kindly smile spread across the elderly butler’s normally stern face.
“On days when his work is particularly heavy, he usually stays at the townhouse in Chails.”
Hearing that, an unexpected thought crossed Blair’s mind. If she’d known this would happen, she should have contacted him after parting with the Countess of Gillingham earlier. Then she might have had an excuse to spend the night with Edmund in Chails.
“…Thank you for letting me know, Albert.”
“And, well… the Duchess has invited you to dinner.”
Blair, who had been about to head for the stairs, paused and turned back to the butler. It seemed Isabelle, having learned that Edmund wouldn’t be returning until late, had been waiting to suggest they dine together.
An invitation personally extended by the duchess wasn’t something Blair could refuse at will. After a moment, she nodded.
“I’ll get ready and come down to the dining room. Thank you.”
***
When Blair arrived at the dining room, the Duke of Libert, whose condition had reportedly worsened recently, was nowhere to be seen. Only Isabelle and Rufus sat at the wide table, the two of them an unwelcome pair of mother and son.
“Come in, come in.”
The duchess greeted Blair with a delighted smile. It was the same unsettlingly radiant smile she’d worn when welcoming Edmund and Blair back from the hunting gathering.
“I heard you went into Borsa today. How was it? Who did you meet?”
“Yes, Your Grace. I met a countess I’d grown acquainted with at a recent gathering and had tea with her.”
“I see. You must be hungry. Let’s eat first.”
Blair took a seat across from Isabelle and Rufus, an uncomfortable arrangement, and picked up her cutlery. Rufus remained silent, while only Isabelle carried the conversation.
“Before long, I’m planning to hold a party at the estate, grander than any we’ve had before.”
“A party…? Is there some good news?”
“Of course, of course. We have some very joyful news.”
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