Chapter 43
The moment she heard the name she had been trying so hard to forget, Vanessa’s expression stiffened despite herself. Since that day, Blair had felt like a sharp blade she didn’t know how to hold—a blade that could leave an irreversible wound on the soft flesh of friendship with even the slightest mistake.
“Don’t worry too much.”
Vanessa replied casually, but she wasn’t sure if her expression remained as composed as her voice. What happened that day was a secret she would have to take to her grave.
That was the conclusion she had reached after agonizing over it until dawn that night. When she reunited with Blair, she would act as if nothing had happened. She would keep this from everyone, even Rosalyn. No matter how much she thought about it, that was the only way to preserve their friendship.
Of course, Blair might have decided never to see her again. She might have confessed her inner feelings with the intention of ending things…. Previously, Vanessa could have known what Blair was thinking just by looking at her eyes, but now she didn’t even know where the girl was or what she was doing.
‘No matter how much time we spent together, we aren’t family.’
Friendship was something precious and dear, but at the same time, it was a fragile emotion that could be ended unilaterally at any moment. Vanessa pulled up the corners of her mouth, hiding her heavy heart.
“Whatever happens, there won’t be any unpleasant incidents like you’re worried about. Lord Roden will be by my side as well.”
Mary started to say something in response to Vanessa’s naive remark but then bit her lip. Truly, why didn’t the young lady realize that Lord Roden was the biggest problem? He was the very starting point of all this, the root of all evil.
Inviting a lady who had just come of age to a hunting party filled mostly with middle-aged married men—the intention was so transparent it was embarrassing.
“Fine, but please don’t go anywhere alone; make sure to call for me. Though I don’t know if those people will even care that I’m there.”
“Mary.”
“Still, I might be able to find someone to help while you’re holding out, My Lady.”
Despite Vanessa’s reproving look, Mary let out a cold snort. Lady Vanessa, having just turned twenty, was becoming more beautiful by the day. She had always been pretty, but at some point, she had become so beautiful that one felt they might be bewitched just by looking into her eyes. Just like her name, like a magical creature that lured people in.
Her fair, fine skin and demure eyes, her light gray irises holding a fresh dewiness, her full lips, and the slender curves of her body—she was like a fresh lily blooming by a lakeshore. If she was this lovely in the eyes of another woman, she would undoubtedly look enticing to men.
The more Mary thought about it, the more she felt sorry about the young master of the Winchester family. Usually, he was always lounging around the drawing room, yet when he was actually needed, how could he be so nowhere to be found?
It was at that moment, as Mary let out a troubled sigh, that the carriage hit an obstacle and jolted violently up and down. The maid, who had been leaning her head somewhat defenselessly against the window, slammed her forehead hard against the glass.
“……!”
Mary clutched her head, barely swallowing the curse that tried to jump out reflexively.
“Mary! Oh my goodness, are you all right?”
“I’m fine…. It’s nothing.”
“You hit your head quite hard…. Let me see.”
“It’s fine.”
Mary shot a glare at the driver, who was driving roughly, and somewhat brusquely pushed away Vanessa’s hand as she tried to check her forehead. The peculiar noise of the old engine had been grating on her nerves all day.
“Honestly…. This is all because the car parts are so old. They say the newer cars don’t shake like this.”
Unable to contain her frustration, Mary huffed before continuing with a sigh.
“We should have rented or bought a car from the start. Who drives around in a twenty-year-old clunker like this these days? Besides, the color is tacky. This must be the only car this color in the entire South….”
“Just bear with it a little longer. We can ride back in my uncle’s car. He said he would be coming that way.”
Vanessa soothed Mary while scanning the view outside the window with uneasy eyes. Before she knew it, the number of people on the streets had increased significantly. They were men with black coal dust smeared on their cheeks and clothes. Men holding everything from crowbars to pickets were shouting something in unison to a rhythmic beat.
“What on earth is happening? Everyone looks so angry….”
“Was there an accident?”
Alman, the driver who had been drumming his fingers anxiously on the steering wheel, suddenly chimed into their conversation.
“It’s not an accident…. It looks like the vagrants who live under the nearby overpass have come out in a group to occupy the square.”
“Vagrants?”
“It happens from time to time. When the nearby coal factories close down, those who lose their jobs stage surprise protests against the market. It seems today is one of those days.”
“Then what do we do now?”
“We’ll have to take a detour.”
“Do you know the geography here well, Alman?”
“To some extent. We’ll head to the east side of the city. Toward Kingston. It should be quieter there.”
Kingston. Vanessa’s expression stiffened for a moment at the familiar name. Alman, who had stuck his head out the window to check the crowd, expertly turned the car. In a short time, he whipped through several narrow alleys and found a secluded side road.
Vanessa covered her lips with the back of her hand, swallowing her rising nausea. Perhaps because she had been staring at her small embroidery hoop, her stomach, which hadn’t been great to begin with, began to churn.
“Are you carsick? Your face is pale.”
“A little. I feel like I might be sick….”
“Alman, pull over up ahead. The young lady says she feels like she’s going to throw up.”
“We can’t, Mary. There’s a high-crime area nearby, so I actually need to pick up the speed.”
“…It can’t be helped. Get some fresh air, My Lady. Try to keep your eyes on the horizon.”
Mary reached out and rolled down the window on Vanessa’s side. Along with the muggy, humid summer air, the fishy smell of the harbor and the acrid smoke from the factories drifted into the car. Vanessa leaned her cheek against the window frame and looked out.
Even at the desolate edges of the city, the season was passing through its peak. In two days, it would already be the first week of July. In the humble Rose Garden of Gloucester, summer flowers had bloomed in profusion, and in the mornings, butterflies and bees flew in with soft sounds. That also signaled that the contract period with River Ross had already reached its midpoint.
The reason she had accepted the invitation from the Essex family, which she could have declined with a proper excuse, was exactly that.
‘Something has changed.’
She couldn’t explain it precisely, but at some point, River Ross had changed. In a way that was good, yet not good.
Of course, there had been many similar moments before. She had often been swept away by the atmosphere, planning for a future or acting as if this summer would never end, and River Ross had played along as if joining in a roleplay. It was a kind of contract and an unwritten rule. It was a freedom they had because it was something that would never actually happen.
River Ross never forgot the point where he had to stop, and she, too, had been prepared to accept a life without him at any time.
‘But the last few days have been different.’
The voice that pronounced her name, the look in his eyes when he turned at her call, the way he spoke, listened, and moved. All of it had changed. Slowly but steadily, like the summer sea gradually warmed by the sun.
Looking at him lately, Vanessa was often seized by a miserable delusion. That he might have actually come to love her, and that they might seek each other out even after this season ended.
This kind of delusion was not helpful at all. She needed time to regain a proper sense of distance. For him, and for herself.
‘Even if River Ross wants to continue this relationship.’
Vanessa bit her lip firmly at the wicked whisper from within.
‘Even if such a thing happens, I must be the one to refuse.’
River Ross was a soldier with a bright future, and her existence was a fatal flaw in that promising future. If River Ross stayed with her, he would become a man who dared to covet a noble without knowing his place, and she would become a harlot who abandoned even her honor to play with a commoner.
If it was love, she wanted to cherish it. She didn’t want it to become his weakness.
