My Husband Caught Me Having an Affair - Chapter 121

“Jacques, go on and speak. Time is of the essence. If we’re going to save Ines, we can’t afford to waste a single second.”

“……”

At those words, Jacques’s body twitched.

At last, Jacques began to speak. Just as written in the letter, he had gone to the abandoned farm outside the city this morning. A group of masked men had been there. One of them, seemingly the leader, had interrogated Jacques. He recounted everything they had discussed.

“I’m sorry. Honestly, I had no choice but to tell the truth. If I had lied and been found out, that would’ve been the end. There was no other way to save Ines.”

Jacques spoke in a voice that was horribly broken. Head bowed and hands clasped together, he looked like a penitent believer.

When I gave no reply, Jacques finally knelt on the floor.

“Duchess… I’m sorry. I know I’ve committed an unforgivable sin as a vassal of House Dumont. I’ll accept any punishment. But please, just spare Ines… please save her. I beg you, Duchess. Please, I’m begging you.”

“……”

His voice was overflowing with desperation. I had never seen Jacques like this, not even in the original story.

I reached out and gently laid my hand on Jacques’s shoulder.

“It’s alright. Get up and sit down.”

“…Duchess.”

“You made the right choice. That was the right call. Just like you said, if you had lied back there, you wouldn’t be here now to see me again. And Ines wouldn’t have survived either.”

“……”

A storm of emotions swirled in Jacques’s eyes—relief, gratitude, and guilt, all tangled together.

“Did you… did you foresee this happening, Duchess?”

“No. Not at the time. Back then, all I could think about was calming you down and making sure they didn’t find out I knew anything.”

I answered honestly.

“It hit me after I returned to the mansion. It wasn’t a difficult deduction. Holding a hostage means they plan to demand something in exchange. And if they managed to take down the guard you personally hired, there’s no way it’s just some ransom-seeking kidnapper. Nine times out of ten, it’s Girard… and there’s only one thing he’d go this far to get.”

At my words, Jacques gave me a faint look of admiration. His eyes seemed to say, ‘I knew you’d figure it out.’

Jacques staggered back to his feet and sat down in the chair again.

“So… what do we do now? Should I give them the informant’s name…?”

“……”

Of course, that informant didn’t exist anywhere in this world. I had invented them purely to patch the logical holes—like a deus ex machina.

So telling them a name was impossible.

‘Even if the informant were real, the answer would be the same.’

I looked at Jacques and asked quietly, “If you were me, what would you do?”

“…Pardon?”

Jacques blinked, as if the question had completely caught him off guard.

“You’re the head of Dumont’s intelligence unit and Ethan’s trusted aide. Tell me what you think.”

“But I…”

“I know you’re shaken by what’s happened with Ines. You probably feel crushed by guilt, thinking you’ve betrayed Ethan and me. But a true professional proves their worth in moments like these. So think carefully and tell me. What should we do? Should we give them the informant’s name as they asked?”

“……”

I wasn’t saying this to pressure Jacques.

From now on, we needed to put the rescue plan into motion—and I would need Jacques’s help. But in his current state, there was no way we’d succeed. Even if the enemy held a blade to Ines’s throat right in front of him, he had to stay calm. It was harsh, but it was the truth.

In order for Jacques to return to his usual self, the first step was regaining his clarity. That’s why I asked him that question.

Jacques remained silent for a long time, his eyes closed.

When he opened them again, there was a sharper clarity in his gaze.

“We mustn’t tell them.”

“Why not?”

“Because the moment they learn the informant’s name, they no longer need Ines as a hostage.”

I smiled faintly. “Correct. So what do we do?”

“We have to somehow create a situation where we can trade the information for Ines directly—one for one. And we’ll need a method of escape afterward, plus a planned route.”

“Excellent. That’s the Jacques I know—Ethan’s left hand.”

At my praise, Jacques gave a slightly sheepish expression. For the first time today, he finally looked like the Jacques I knew.

“It won’t be easy. Even if we write the name on a slip of paper and propose a trade, while that might count as a form of exchange… from their side, there would be no way to verify on the spot whether the name is real or not. They’ll probably demand solid proof or insist we wait until they’ve confirmed it. Either way, I can’t think of a clear solution. And it’ll be hard to stop them from attacking Ines and me.”

After a moment of thought, I asked, “Where did you say the meeting place was?”

“Mount Shira, north of the capital. At a large cabin halfway up the mountain. They told me to come by seven, before sunset. Just like in the morning—alone and unarmed.”

“About four hours left, then. Factoring in travel time, there’s barely any room to prepare.”

“That’s exactly what they’re counting on. Mount Shira isn’t very tall, but it’s infamous for its rough terrain. Aside from the main trail, it’s almost impossible to climb. In other words, block the entrance, and that’s all they need.”

“They planned it in case you broke the deal and told Ethan. To prepare for a possible attack from the Dumont knights.”

At my murmured comment, Jacques nodded. “Yes. And there are probably eyes watching the ducal estate as well. If we move a force beyond a certain size, they’ll notice immediately and pull out.”

“Quite thorough.”

“It’s Girard we’re dealing with,” Jacques said quietly.

“….So, what should we do? Do you have any ideas?” Jacques asked anxiously. The uneasy light had returned to his eyes.

I gave him a calm smile.

***

“Message from below. A carriage just entered the mountain path.”

Julien, seated on a tree stump, looked back at his subordinate, Alex. A messenger hawk perched on Alex’s arm.

“It’s Alide in the carriage?”

“Yes. They said the Dumont crest was engraved on it.”

There had already been a report that a similar carriage had departed from the Dumont estate and was headed this way. It was likely the same.

‘A carriage, huh.’

This morning, he had come on horseback. But now they reported four horses were pulling the carriage.

“Is that many horses really necessary?”

“For a small carriage, one or two would do. But if it’s something heavy enough to carry the Dumont crest, maybe it’s meant to handle the steep climb.”

Another subordinate responded to Julien’s question.

Not an unreasonable answer. But it still felt odd.

“How many people do they say it could hold at most?” Julien looked back at Alex and asked.

“No more than six men.”

Six, huh.

The total force stationed at the cabin was fifty. In terms of numbers, it wasn’t even a contest. But if the ones inside were Dumont’s elite knights… still, those here weren’t pushovers either. All things considered…

After some quick mental calculations, he concluded there would be no issue.

Besides, if they tried anything, Ines would be killed on the spot.

Jacques had said he wouldn’t talk unless he was shown proof that Ines was safe. So they had brought her here. She was currently bound and locked in another cabin.

“Just be sure we’re fully prepared. Post twenty crossbowmen at the entrance. Five of them in sniper positions.”

“Yes, boss.”

Not long after, hoofbeats began to sound. Julien rose from the stump and brushed the dust from his clothes.

Soon, the carriage appeared in front of the cabin. As reported, it was a sturdy and ornate metal coach, but not overly large.

“Get down.”

Alex aimed his crossbow at the coachman and ordered. A bearded driver awkwardly raised his hands and stepped down.

Two subordinates immediately searched him. After confirming there was nothing suspicious, Alex spoke again.

“Open the carriage doors. Both sides. Wide enough that we can see everything inside.”

The coachman obeyed.

Alex stepped back a few paces and aimed his crossbow at the door, flanked by other marksmen. If anything happened, dozens of bolts would reduce anyone inside to a pincushion.

Soon, the door opened.

Inside were Jacques Alide—and one more.

A woman, clearly identifiable by her build and clothing, though her face was hidden beneath a hooded cape.

The woman stepped down from the carriage holding Jacques’s hand, then pulled back the hood.

Seeing her face from afar, Julien’s eyes widened in disbelief.

‘…The Duchess of Dumont?’