My Husband Caught Me Having an Affair - Chapter 131

From the beginning, the Duchess of Dumont had no intention of revealing the spy’s name so easily. In truth, even if she had named someone other than Gaspard, it would still have taken at least several days to verify the truth.

‘That means…’

This was likely nothing more than bait. She had tossed out Gaspard’s name to buy time, and in the meantime, had probably devised a separate plan. At least, that’s what Marlon himself would have done.

‘It’s almost certain that Ethan Dumont doesn’t know about this. There’s no way that man would assign such a dangerous role to his wife.’

The claim that only Camille Dumont knew the spy’s identity hadn’t yet been proven, but it was probably true. Because she was the only one who could have planned and executed this operation.

‘Otherwise, it would mean Jacques Alide had the gall to use the Duchess as bait just to save his wife… No way he’d do something like that unless he’d completely lost his mind.’

Marlon’s mind was racing.

When he first heard that the Duchess of Dumont had appeared at the meeting point, he had decided not to touch her hastily.

Doing so would only give Ethan justification to retaliate.

But now that things had reached this point, he couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.

The enemy might have already made their next move. If he hesitated, he could lose everything.

Looking at the messenger sent by Julien, Marlon ordered, “Tell them to capture the Duchess of Dumont and bring her here. Jacques Alide and his wife as well.”

Originally, the plan had been to extract the information and then eliminate both of them. But if Camille had stepped forward to save Jacques’s wife, it meant she still held value as a hostage. In other words, she was better off alive.

At this moment, Camille Dumont held all the keys.

To clear away the thick fog that had long clouded Marlon’s path, it was necessary to take the risk and capture her.

“Yes, understood.”

The messengers turned to leave with those words, but Marlon called them back.

“Wait.”

“Yes, sir?”

Camille would have expected a response from Marlon. Whether it came quickly or slowly was irrelevant—she would have prepared a countermeasure.

That meant leaving it all to Julien was dangerous.

But the only reason Marlon had entrusted this task to Julien in the first place was that he couldn’t trust the intelligence division.

If he were to send someone from the intelligence division now, the odds that person would be the traitor were extremely slim. Still, given the gravity of the situation, even the slimmest chance was unacceptable.

So then, who should he send? Someone who was absolutely—utterly—beyond even a 0.1% chance of being the traitor.

He already knew. There had only ever been one answer.

Even now, he felt an instinctive resistance to using that option. But he was already knee-deep in the mire. There was no longer any way to keep his hands clean.

After a brief silence, Marlon spoke again, “Forget what I just said. Stand by until further orders. Understood?”

“Pardon? Ah, yes, understood.”

The messengers left the room with puzzled expressions.

Left alone, Marlon ordered a carriage prepared and secretly departed for Mount Shira.

Looking back, that decision had been the turning point.

If Marlon hadn’t decided to go in person at that moment, he would never have found Camille collapsed by the roadside after her fall.

After recovering Camille, he immediately turned back down the mountain. Partly to get her treated—but more so because he instinctively realized that if he did so, no one would know he had been the one to retrieve her.

Later, after receiving a full report from Julien, he became convinced that he had made the right call.

Julien had claimed that Camille had escaped in a carriage with Jacques and his wife. The fact that she had been riding alone likely meant there was some urgent reason to rush ahead. And the fall—undoubtedly caused by the sudden thunder and lightning.

According to Julien’s subordinates hiding at the mountain trail entrance, Marlon’s carriage had gone in first, and the Dumont carriage carrying the Jacques couple had exited afterward.

Had Marlon not departed in haste, it would most likely have been Jacques and his wife who found the collapsed Camille.

Had Marlon sent someone else instead of going himself, who knew how things would’ve turned out.

It was a stroke of fortune. But a stroke of fortune brought about by Marlon himself.

Of course, this wasn’t the end. If anything, what came next was even more important.

Just then, a knock came at the door, and the head butler entered in a hurry—more flustered than usual.

“Master. The Duke of Dumont has arrived. We told him that no one can see you without an appointment, but he insisted—”

‘Faster than expected.’

So thought Marlon as he rose from his seat.

“Where is he? The reception room?”

“No, actually…”

Before the butler could finish, the office door opened again.

It was Ethan Dumont who entered. A few seconds later, guards stormed in after him.

“You can’t just barge in like this—!”

One of the guards raised his voice but, upon seeing Marlon, bowed his head.

“My apologies, Your Grace. We tried to stop him, but…”

The guards awkwardly surrounded Ethan, but none dared to lay a hand on him or draw a weapon. A pitiful sight—but not entirely incomprehensible.

“It’s fine. Stand down.”

At Marlon’s command, the guards dispersed and stepped back.

Ethan stood there, cold expression locked on Marlon. His silver eyes flared like a blazing comet.

“Duke of Dumont. To what do I owe the unannounced visit?”

“Where is Camille?” Ethan asked without preamble.

Marlon narrowed his eyes deliberately. “That’s rather sudden. Whatever do you mean?”

“I’m not here for word games. Tell me where Camille is.”

“Well, well.”

Marlon muttered slowly, then returned to sit at his desk.

“I truly don’t understand what you’re saying. I’ve heard your knights have been searching high and low for the Duchess since last night… Has she run away or something?”

Ethan ground his teeth. “You lie so easily with that shameless face.”

The guards’ expressions shifted, their hands drifting to their hilts. Marlon raised a hand to stop them.

“I understand your distress, but let’s calm down for a moment. Why would you think to look for your missing wife here, of all places?”

“Still pretending? I heard it directly from my subordinate’s wife—that you kidnapped and threatened her.”

“What on earth are you talking about? I know nothing of the sort.”

“The kidnappers’ leader demanded the name of the spy planted in Girard in exchange for returning the hostage. If it wasn’t you, who else would make such a demand?”

Marlon widened his eyes slightly. “Well now. That’s interesting. If that really happened, I understand why you’d suspect me… but I have no knowledge of it. Isn’t it possible someone is trying to drive a wedge between us?”

“Do you even hear yourself? How would anyone outside Girard know about the existence of a spy?”

“Intelligence is a cutthroat game these days. Every major house has its own intel division. Perhaps they found out through espionage.”

“Are you seriously presenting baseless speculation as justification? I told you, I’m not here to waste time on word games.”

“Aren’t your claims just as baseless and speculative?”

Ethan clenched his teeth again. “Marlon Girard.”

Marlon clicked his tongue and chuckled. He rested his clasped hands on his abdomen and stared at Ethan with snake-like slitted eyes.

“You’re quite rude today. I’ve been trying to be understanding given the circumstances, but… Is that how you speak to someone twice your age? Tell me—did your father raise you like that?”

At those words, Ethan’s eyes flashed with murderous intent.