Chapter 59
59
A Decent Adult
Matthias escorted Claudine to the drawing room where the two madams were waiting. Liette was with them.
Was it possible Claudine had simply misunderstood?
Liette’s mind grew ever more tangled as she watched Matthias brush off that incident as if it had never happened. If he was truly as smitten with that woman as Claudine claimed, he couldn’t possibly act this way. That was why, even though she knew it was wisest to let it drop at this point, Liette had deliberately brought up that name in front of Matthias.
“I ran into her by chance and tried to get a little friendly, but she was terribly timid.”
Liette sat down naturally in the seat across from Matthias. The dinner, which had started a bit early to accommodate Claudine, had just ended. The two madams and Claudine were having tea in the drawing room, while Liette had come up to the study with Matthias.
“That woman, I mean.”
Meeting Matthias’s sidelong glance, Liette flashed a bright smile.
“Leila.”
The name, soft on the tongue, felt to Liette like sand grating against her skin. She hadn’t intended to push so relentlessly from the start. It was as good as dumping the dregs of her emotions onto that poor woman.
“Ah.”
Only then did Matthias let out a short sigh, as if he’d just remembered the incident. He stared at Liette for a moment, then burst into surprisingly cheerful laughter—even seeming a touch innocent. It didn’t feel forced at all.
“Even Liette von Lindman gets rejected by women sometimes, huh?”
“What?”
“You looked pretty pathetic.”
After laughing his fill, Matthias opened the silver box on the table. He took out a cigarette, lit it, and nodded toward it as if offering one to Liette.
As Liette lit her own cigarette, Matthias leaned back languidly against the chair’s backrest. Watching him chuckle and smoke, Liette finally let out a helpless laugh of her own. To think this was all the reaction she got. She was starting to feel genuinely sorry for Leila Llewellyn.
“I did make a bit of a fool of myself.”
Releasing her tension, Liette sank deeper into her chair. At this rate, she and Claudine were the fools.
‘That girl… doesn’t she remind you of the canary living in Duke Herhardt’s bedroom?’
On a certain afternoon last summer, Claudine had gazed out the window and asked with a smile. Her eyes were fixed on Leila Llewellyn’s retreating figure as she finished her garden work and headed back. The girl’s abundant golden hair swayed with her light steps, almost like the flutter of a small bird’s wings.
‘No way. Are you saying Duke Matthias suddenly started raising a canary because of her?’
When Liette had incredulously asked again, Claudine had only given a quiet smile. It was affirmation.
Liette had thought someone as rational as Claudine wouldn’t jump to such conclusions lightly, so she’d watched closely. Matthias’s suspiciously doting attitude toward a bird he’d always treated as little more than a moving target had seemed plenty suspicious.
Once she started looking at it that way, it did seem to fit. When she heard he’d even schemed to separate Leila Llewellyn and Kyle Etman, she’d been convinced. She trusted Claudine not to misread or misunderstand.
But if that was the case, how could he act like this?
Liette felt lost in a maze of increasingly complex doubts.
Could a man exist in this world who would remain so indifferent and nonchalant upon learning his cousin had approached the woman he cherished so dearly—especially after an accident left her injured? Unless Claudine was mistaken, perhaps the relationship was already over? But if so, how did they explain the canary still living in this bedroom?
“Liette von Lindman.”
Matthias tapped ash from his cigarette and called her name in a tone as level as the gesture. Liette, who had been furrowing her brow in deepening confusion, quickly schooled her expression and faced her cousin.
“Why not make scandals about Marquis Lindman back in his own territory.”
Matthias stared straight at her with a smile.
“I’ll do anything to maintain order in Arbis.”
Even as he discarded his half-smoked cigarette and lit a new one, Matthias didn’t avert his gaze from Liette. There was no jealousy or anger in his eyes. They were clear and empty, almost like those of an innocent child.
‘Your cousin is a gentlemanly demon.’
The words of that officer, who had shuddered while describing Matthias von Herhardt on the battlefield, suddenly flashed through Liette’s mind. She swallowed dryly, her hand trembling around her cigarette.
“You know that better than anyone.”
With that low-voiced addition, Matthias finally looked away. From his profile as he smoked slowly, all Liette could detect was a hint of fatigue.
She had no idea.
In the end, that was the only helpless conclusion Liette could reach again. To resolve her doubts, she’d probably need a bigger shock.
But Claudine… would that answer even be good for you?
Chewing on the new question, Liette swallowed dryly once more.
The sound of Phoebe pecking at the windowpane shook the dark room.
Normally, Leila would have rushed over and opened the window, but she lay curled up on the bed, staring blankly into space. She blinked slowly, but her well-deep eyes held nothing.
Only after several more minutes did Leila regain her senses. But it took a considerable time to even sit up. There were no cuts or breaks, but her left back and shoulder, where she’d been struck hard by the oncoming carriage, throbbed as if shattered. She wanted to sleep, but the intensifying pain made even that difficult.
Leila slowly opened the window with her right hand alone. A letter was tied to Phoebe’s leg. It had to be from that man, Duke Herhardt.
Leila gently stroked Phoebe’s soft feathers with the same hand and untied the letter. Having apparently eaten her fill at the duke’s today as well, Phoebe flew straight back to the birdcage in the back yard.
Closing the window, Leila returned to the bed and perched lightly on its edge.
She couldn’t clearly remember how the accident had happened or how she’d made it back to the cottage. Her only thought had been to escape Marquis Lindman; she’d fled blindly and suddenly faced flashing lights, then a distant pain had shaken her whole body.
Leila took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
It had hurt terribly, but the moment she realized she’d collided with the carriage carrying Duke Herhardt and Claudine, Leila had forgotten the pain. All she could think of was her desperate, miserable desire to run away as fast as possible.
Rubbing her reddened eyes, Leila put on her glasses, which she’d left haphazardly by the pillow. After hesitating for a long while, she opened the letter to find a cruel command, just as she’d expected from him.
Bring a handkerchief, Leila.
If you don’t come, I might just go to you.
Leila crumpled the letter in one hand and tossed it under the bed. Curling up tightly on the bed with her throbbing body, a hot, bitter laugh escaped like a sob. She tossed her glasses aside carelessly and buried her face deep in the pillow. She felt like she was going mad.
If only she could run far away, to somewhere without that man.
Even idle dreams couldn’t change reality. This was Arbis, and Leila could never escape him. If she didn’t go to him, he would come for her. He always had, and he could do so as many times as he wanted. He wouldn’t care at all if Bill found out.
If that happened, Uncle Bill…
‘You’ll make a pretty decent adult someday.’
Uncle Bill’s gruff but warm, sincere voice came to mind. No matter what others said, Uncle Bill had believed in Leila and been prouder of her than anyone. She knew that all too well.
‘Duke’s mistress.’
Marquis Lindman’s cold voice mingled with the memory, throwing Leila’s breathing into disarray.
Finally unable to bear it any longer, Leila sat up. She opened the bag tossed on the desk, took out the handkerchief, and left the room without hesitation. Faintly came the sound of Bill Leamer snoring after going to bed right after dinner.
Wearing nothing but a thin shawl, Leila stepped out into the chill night air. Without her glasses, her vision was blurry, but she had no spare attention for that.
She hated the duke.
She hated that man so much it felt like her chest would burst. The accident had been Marquis Lindman’s fault, so it might be unfair to blame him, but Leila had no desire to be fair to that man. Not when he wasn’t fair to her.
Clouds veiled the moon, making it a dark night, but Leila walked into the woods without hesitation. As the riverbank where the annexe stood grew nearer, her steps quickened. Her cheeks burned hot despite the freezing night air that made her breath visible in white puffs as she hurried along almost at a run.
“You’re here.”
Leila stopped at the voice from the darkness. It was the duke. He leaned against the railing of the outdoor staircase connecting the pier and the annexe’s second floor, looking at her.
“I was just about to go find you.”
The duke approached the halted Leila, casually as if nothing had happened. His face even held a faint smile.
He stopped a step away from her. A gust from the river lifted Leila’s tousled golden hair and the hem of her skirt.
“Aren’t you cold?”
The duke’s brow furrowed as he took in her attire. Leila let out a hollow laugh and thrust the handkerchief—clutched in her trembling hand—into his grasp.
“Your Grace’s handkerchief. Here.”
“Leila.”
“Goodbye, Your Grace. I never want to see you like this again. Never.”
Leila turned away coldly. The sound of her resolute footsteps rang out in the clear, crisp night. Every time the pain in her shaking body made her want to cry, she bit the soft flesh inside her mouth.
“Stop right there.”
The duke commanded. Leila tried to run, but her legs wouldn’t obey.
“Leila.”
His voice sharpened as the distance closed between them.
“Leila!”
The duke’s hand touched her left shoulder. Leila screamed shrilly and shoved it away.
Matthias, eyes narrowed, strode forward and scooped her up into his arms. It happened too suddenly for her to dodge.
“No! Put me down! Let go!”
As Leila thrashed wildly, Matthias slung her over his shoulder like a sack of grain.
No matter how she pounded and clawed at his back, Matthias climbed the stairs to the annexe without a waver. Once inside, Leila’s scream-like sobs grew even louder, but there was no one left in the annexe to hear them.
Striding in the opposite direction from the corridor leading to the drawing room, Matthias opened the door to the bedroom at the end without hesitation.
