Chapter 67
67
Master of Arbis
“I am Bill Lemmer, and that man is so pitiful.”
Lady Norma’s sudden remark pulled Elise von Herhardt’s eyes wide open in shock as she had been lost in deep thought.
“What do you mean? The greenhouse was ruined because of that gardener, and you even got hurt!”
“It’s not that serious of an injury.”
“Good heavens. Not serious? I just can’t understand why you’re being so lenient toward Bill Lemmer this time.”
A rare chill edged into her voice, which usually respected Lady Norma’s wishes even when they differed.
“Hessen clearly warned him, didn’t he? Ignoring that must have been deliberate, don’t you think?”
“We’ve known Bill Lemmer for more than a year or two. He’s not the type to cause trouble on purpose.”
“What about my dead birds? What about your precious flowers, Mother?”
She vented her rare outburst of anger with uncharacteristic agitation.
“And that’s not all. The generator exploded, cutting off the electricity and ruining Arbis’s year-end celebrations!”
Her face flushed with fury as she recalled how the banquet hall and dining room, equipped with electric lights, could no longer be used.
“That’s why I said we shouldn’t install those vulgar electric lights.”
Lady Norma, who had been skeptical about bringing electricity into the house from the start, showed no particular regret about it.
“Of course, I’m upset too. But punishing the gardener won’t undo it, will it? And it’s not an amount he could compensate for anyway.”
“Still, it would at least serve as a warning to the other servants.”
“Are you saying you’d send Bill Lemmer to prison?”
“If he committed a crime, he should pay the appropriate price.”
“Elise, Bill Lemmer has been working for this Arbis since before Mathias was even born. And if we send him to prison, what about Leila, who has no one else in the world to rely on?”
“We don’t need to worry about the gardener’s foster daughter. She’s an adult now, and she can’t stay as a guest in Arbis forever.”
One might think this was enough concession, but Elise von Herhardt’s stance was firmer than ever.
“I’m even more upset thinking about Claudine. You know how much she loved that greenhouse in Arbis, Mother.”
“That’s true.”
“She even wanted to hold her wedding there. How heartbroken must she be? Even if we start repairs right away, it’ll be impossible to restore it perfectly before the wedding.”
At the mention of Claudine, Lady Norma hesitated. It weighed on her that the future mistress of the house had her favorite place in Arbis ruined like this.
“Setting this kind of precedent won’t allow proper order in Arbis.”
Elise von Herhardt put weight into every word.
“You have a point… but I just don’t know.”
Katarina von Herhardt let out a deep sigh and lay back among the cushions piled by her bedside. A maid hurried over to adjust the bed for her comfort before stepping back to a respectful distance to wait.
“Wouldn’t it be best to follow Mathias’s decision?”
Elise von Herhardt’s eyes narrowed at the compromise Lady Norma suggested offhandedly.
“The master of this Arbis is Mathias, after all.”
“…Well, yes. That’s true.”
Elise von Herhardt, lost in thought for a moment, eventually nodded.
“If Mathias decides, I’ll follow. I just hope he makes a wise choice.”
When Leila entered the reception room of the annex, Mathias was on the phone at the table where it sat. Mark Evers, his attendant, gave a subtle signal, and only then did Mathias slowly turn his head.
Catching sight of Leila with a glance, Mathias signaled his attendant that he could leave. Even then, the conversation flowed on naturally. Leila’s expression grew even more anxious as she overheard it. It was a discussion about the schedule to repair the estate’s generator, ruined by today’s accident.
“You’ve made things busy.”
Mathias turned after hanging up.
“Thanks to Mr. Lemmer.”
His curt addition held neither anger nor pity.
“Sit.”
Mathias sat on the sofa first and indicated the seat across from him. Leila hurriedly shook her head and swallowed dryly.
Instead of insisting again, Mathias slowly crossed his legs. Clinging to the hope that he at least intended to hear her apology, Leila took trembling steps toward him.
“I’m sorry. Truly… I’m so sorry, Your Grace.”
Leila bowed deeply first. Mathias stared at her blankly, as if he didn’t understand.
“Why are you apologizing?”
“Please… forgive Uncle Bill, just this once. I’ll beg in his place.”
Her hands, now slick with cold sweat, clasped together as Leila bowed her head to Mathias again and again.
“You know him, Your Grace. He didn’t do it on purpose. Uncle Bill doesn’t know anything about electricity or generators—how to handle them at all. He’d mention it sometimes, when working in the warehouse, how the noise gave him headaches and made things hard. So… that’s the only reason he did it. How could Uncle Bill ever think of harming Lady Norma or the greenhouse?”
Gaining courage from Mathias’s silence, Leila stammered out the words she’d thought of on the way here. Her voice broke several times as she suppressed surging emotions, but Mathias waited patiently.
“I know words alone can’t wash away such a grave mistake, but please… just this once, forgive Uncle Bill.”
Leila now pressed her hands tightly together. They trembled, pale without a trace of color.
“Leila.”
The duke’s voice was low and soft as he called her name. Leila lifted her reddened eyes to him.
“So, you’re asking me to go easy on Bill Lemmer?”
The duke voiced what Leila hadn’t dared to say first. Though shameless, Leila swallowed her tears and nodded.
“Leniency.”
Mathias whispered the word calmly, his gaze drifting slowly down to the tips of Leila’s shoes. They were old brown ones caked in dirt from rushing to and from the police station.
His eyes moved from the shoes up her slender legs clad in black stockings, stopping at the hem of the grayish skirt midway up her calf. He’d clearly bought her pretty clothes, yet she always dressed like a nun.
Mathias’s head tilted a bit more. His gaze, now moving even slower, passed over the checkered coat, the red sweater peeking through the unbuttoned front, and the wide collar of the blouse beneath, finally reaching the desperate plea in Leila’s eyes.
“Why should I?”
Mathias asked, staring straight into those eyes. Leila went blank, unable to believe what she’d heard.
“Why should I show Bill Lemmer leniency?”
Uncoupling his legs, Mathias rose slowly. The firelight from the hearth flickered across his faintly furrowed brows and the bridge of his nose.
“Y-Your Grace…”
“The generator exploded. Grandmother nearly died. The greenhouse was devastated.”
With each fact, Mathias took a step closer, thud by thud. Now the distance between them was less than a step.
“All this massive damage because of Bill Lemmer, and you want leniency? Why?”
“Your Grace, please.”
“If you beg, does that mean I should overlook all those wrongs?”
Mathias slowly stroked the collar of Leila’s blouse with the tip of his long index finger.
This blouse with its broad collar brushing her shoulders felt familiar. Thinking back, it was the one she’d worn on the autumn outing to Arbis. It was also the one he’d removed himself on the night she was hit by the car. Ah, come to think of it, she’d worn this that day too—the evening she stood beside the son of the stationery shop owner introduced by the principal. Who knows, she might have worn it even on the day she resolved to leave Arbis and applied for a transfer.
“What are you to me?”
The voice that flowed low held no force or coldness, making it all the more cruel. Leila looked up at him with the expression of someone slapped out of nowhere. At that moment, Mathias’s fingers, toying with the lace trim at the collar’s edge, touched the tip of her chin.
“Tell me, Leila.”
With just one finger, Mathias easily lifted her face. Tears welled up and spilled thickly from her dazed eyes, soon wetting the finger holding her chin.
“What are you to me?”
It was too heartless and dry to call a pretense.
Was it all just her own dream last season?
Leila stared hard at the duke, trying to recall Arbis’s autumn. Tears flowed endlessly, but she never once looked away from him.
He’d kept his promise to save Phoebe, treated her injuries, and they’d even exchanged light smiles and jokes from time to time. There had been so many moments when she found herself just gazing at this strangely unfamiliar man. Leila remembered it clearly, yet the duke’s glassy eyes were utterly emotionless, as if he’d erased it all.
Her lips moved soundlessly, but Leila couldn’t string words together easily. Now her whole body began to tremble. Images swirled in her mind: Uncle Bill locked behind cold iron bars, Arbis’s Paradise in ruins, and the face of this cruel man before her.
“The proud you who wouldn’t accept even a single pen is now making such a one-sided demand. Isn’t that too shameless?”
Mathias tilted his head. She bit her lip harder, but Leila could no longer hold back her sobs. Yet Mathias remained utterly still, as if he heard nothing.
“I don’t make losing deals.”
“Your Grace, please…”
“Unfortunately, your pleas and tears aren’t worth trading for Bill Lemmer’s crimes.”
“Your Grace, we could never compensate for it… never…”
“It’s not compensation, Leila. A deal is giving what the other wants and getting what you want.”
Mathias now gripped her chin with his whole hand.
“I’d consider that kind of deal.”
“…A deal?”
“Yes. A deal.”
Mathias appraised her slowly, as if assessing her value. Realizing what his gaze meant, Leila flinched back in horror.
Mathias released her readily and returned to the sofa as if nothing had happened. Leila glared at him, now trembling not with fear but rage.
“I can’t do that!”
Her hair, fully loosened by vigorous head-shaking, cascaded down her back.
“Your Grace, you’re engaged to Miss Claudine. You two will be m-married soon!”
“So?”
Mathias, wiping his tear-dampened hand on a handkerchief, looked up obliquely. His eyes showed no guilt or hesitation—seeming almost bored.
As the pale-faced Leila staggered, the phone rang. Mathias rose slowly, just as before, and approached the table.
“Either way, it’s your choice.”
He looked at her, hand lightly around the still-lowered receiver.
“Once you’ve made up your mind, tell me. I’ll gladly respect your decision.”
“H-How could you…”
“Go.”
With that short command, the duke turned away. In the simple gesture of lifting the receiver, there was no trace of the desire from the man who’d proposed such a sordid deal. Standing straight and elegant as he discussed Grandmother’s condition, he was simply Duke Herhardt—flawlessly perfect Duke Herhardt. A man someone like Leila Llewellyn could never touch. Such a man.
Leila stood frozen, breathing raggedly as she turned unsteadily. The annex still blazed with light, but all she saw ahead was impenetrable darkness.
Midway down the outdoor stairs connecting the annex’s second floor to the pier, Leila collapsed to the ground. The icy river reflected cold moonlight, wrapping her small huddled form.
It felt like finally waking from a solitary dream. A beautiful, cruel nightmare.
