Chapter 49
Wyatt rose from the maid with a satisfied air. It had been a rare, pleasing bout of lovemaking. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such pure pleasure without that lukewarm sense of something being amiss.
He let out a deep sigh. While the delight offered by a young, supple female body remained constant, the unavoidable hardships of life had aged him. Mostly, it was matters of money.
But at least for the time being, he might be able to escape those worries. That hope brought a fresh surge of vitality. Hoisting up his trousers, he clamped a cigar between his teeth and picked up his wallet from nearby. After a moment’s deliberation, he pulled out five five-pound notes and held them out to the maid.
“Here.”
The maid, who had been smoothing out her rumpled skirts with a vacant expression, took the money with both hands. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, which pleased him. Knowing that a large sum of money was coming from somewhere certainly had a way of making a man feel magnanimous.
“…What brought on such generosity?”
“Just take it and be happy,” he snapped irritably, lighting his cigar.
Of all the women he had bedded in his life, this maid was the best, though her plain, unalluring face was always a flaw. But men were always what women made of them.
Exhaling a cloud of cigar smoke, Wyatt picked up the bottle of whiskey he had left on the console. The half-empty bottle contained moonshine—rough and improperly refined, as expected, but high enough in proof to get the job done. After quenching his parched throat with the spirits, he asked as if the thought had just occurred to him.
“Where is Vanessa?”
“She went to bed early last night, saying she wasn’t feeling well.”
“How has she been lately?”
“She’s doing fine.”
Wyatt frowned.
“Is that all you have to say? You’ve been giving me the same answer lately.”
“She’s simply not the sort of person who requires much attention. She rarely asks for anything.”
The maid was still clutching the banknotes in her hand. She was looking over her uniform, seemingly wondering where to tuck them so they wouldn’t be lost while she worked. There were a few servants in Gloucester Castle with sticky fingers.
As long as they didn’t touch his belongings, Wyatt tended to leave such people alone. It was something one had to tolerate when employing cheap labor.
“Nothing new to report?”
He drained the whiskey bottle while watching the maid’s face. He observed her closely, looking for that peculiar shift in expression unique to those who are lying or hiding someone else’s secret. The maid fell into a brief silence.
“Nothing in particular.”
Wyatt let out a heavy sigh.
“I hate liars.”
“I’m not lying.”
He stared intently at the maid’s frightened face. Then, he raised his hand and gave her cheek a couple of sharp, dismissive taps.
“You bitch. You took money, didn’t you? In exchange for keeping your mouth shut.”
“I did no such thing….”
“No? Then where on earth did she meet the Duke?”
“The—the Duke?”
“It seems you’ve been quite negligent in your duties.”
He snatched the notes back from the maid’s hand and returned only three. Her lips trembled with humiliation, but this time she quickly shoved the money into her stocking. As she pulled up her skirt, he caught a glimpse of her thigh held by a garter belt.
“…….”
That sight strangely reignited his lust. He felt a surge of vigor as if he’d returned to his twenties, when his blood boiled at the mere sight of a woman. The maid, belatedly noticing the change in his demeanor, tried to move away as if to flee, but he was faster.
“…I have to go down now. They asked me to help with breakfast….”
“You do that sort of work too?”
“We’re short-handed.”
“There’s plenty of time. And I pay generously to make up for the lack of staff.”
Wyatt let out a dry laugh at his own words. It sounded a bit ridiculous, but it wasn’t entirely untrue. What he paid them each month was barely half of a ‘proper’ servant’s wage, but for swindlers, whores, and pickpockets like them, even that was excessive.
When would they ever have handled such money? When would they ever have worked in a castle like this? The maid seemed to hesitate for a moment before letting her arms fall limp.
“Come here.”
“The sun will be up soon.”
He ignored her words and pulled her slender waist toward him. Caught in his grip, the maid let out a short moan before she was turned around.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Since this is… the second time, will I get more money?”
“Don’t worry about money anymore, Mary. If this business goes well, you could even become a countess.”
“Is that true?”
“Of course. Now, if you understand, you should be a good girl….”
He shoved the maid against the bookshelf and yanked up her skirts. Facing the portraits of the former Earls hanging there as if looking down on this vulgar display, Wyatt let out a sharp laugh.
“I like doing it here best. This study was a place my biological mother cherished excessively.”
“…….”
“She wanted to clear every pretty maid out of my sight.”
His father’s portrait, and the mother’s hanging beside it. His relatives, who were as noble as they were, had shuddered, saying he had been possessed by a devil since birth. That if such a person were left alone, he would only bring great ruin to the family later; that it would be better to sweep him away to a monastery or the New World before he tarnished their reputation.
Of course, they were all dead ghosts now. His strict father, his mother who poured out suffocating affection only when the mood struck her, and even his older brother who remained silent through all that horror…. In some ways, the relatives’ worries had been correct. After all, it was he who had ended up with their entire inheritance. To survive was to be strong. Always.
‘Though now, only crumbs of land remain.’
Once, he had sat satisfied upon the ruins they left behind, dragging the glories of Somerset into the dirt one by one as if taking revenge on the family that had given up on him. The considerable savings left behind were used to pay off his private debts; he had bought a villa and invited endless streams of women, and he had even sponsored the gangs he had been involved with before returning to the family, as promised. And he had incurred even more debt in the name of Somerset.
The brakes had begun to slam on his bottomless debauchery three years ago. With his funds dried up, family heirlooms squandered on gambling, and invested businesses all ruined, the last thing he turned to was moonshining. Even then, he was merely scavenging the crumbs dropped by the major players.
‘But things will be completely different now.’
His brother’s legacy, which he had intended to sell off like a well-raised lamb slaughtered at the right time, had brought him a new opportunity. A ticket to enter the inexhaustible land of gold known as Battenberg.
A moan erupted from the maid’s lips like a celebratory firework. As if commemorating the golden age of Somerset that would bloom once more in his generation.
This was his true legacy, built upon death and betrayal.
The excuse of not feeling well became a reality by early evening. Vanessa, who had gone to bed without dinner, tossed and turned with an unpleasant fever before waking up drenched in a cold sweat. At first, it was difficult to distinguish between the dream and reality.
Throughout her sleep, she had been haunted by a dream of someone chasing her. She thought she heard screams, saw a wolf dripping with blood, or heard following footsteps. At the end, the light of fading headlights illuminated people collapsed in the street.
It was a nightmare so foul that the mere thought of it made her skin crawl.
“Mary?”
Looking around the room submerged in the deep blue darkness of dawn, Vanessa called out for the maid. She thought Mary was sleeping in the very next room, but no matter how much she pulled the bell pull, Mary did not come. Seeing there was no sign of anyone, it seemed she had left the room early in the morning.
Vanessa waited a little longer until the sun had fully risen before slipping out of bed.
She wanted to take a walk before everyone else woke up. To clear her cluttered head, just for a little while….
Staring at the wardrobe in contemplation, Vanessa simply draped a thin shawl over her chemise nightgown. Since she intended to go to the Rose Garden anyway, it wouldn’t matter if she wasn’t fully dressed. River Ross wouldn’t be there, but at least there she could avoid people’s eyes…. She hurried down the hallway and descended the stairs. It was just as she stepped onto the first-floor corridor. Two men standing in the foyer sensed her presence and turned their heads.
“Vanessa.”
