Chapter 24
Throughout the carriage ride, Florence was consumed by a single mission: uncovering the true nature of the bond between Classie and Dernick.
She attacked the mystery from every conceivable angle. She tried subtle verbal traps, sudden direct inquiries, and every psychological trick in her repertoire.
Classie met these efforts with a wall of quiet. Her only contribution was the occasional soft denial, insisting that Florence was imagining things.
Dernick remained his usual, unflappable self. He had always been a man who spoke his mind without a filter, making him entirely immune to Florence’s clever conversational maneuvering.
Upon their arrival at Florence’s estate, the butler was there to receive the trio. He escorted Dernick toward the gentlemen’s quarters while Classie followed Florence to the ladies’ guest wing.
Once inside, Florence’s attendants assisted Classie in changing.
The interrogation resumed the moment Classie settled into a tub of steaming water. Florence hovered over her like a predator, looking as though she might shove Classie under if she didn’t get an answer.
Florence demanded to know exactly what was happening with that man. She pointed out that he was a member of the guard, and she insisted that Classie should have investigated his background by now.
A dollop of bubbles landed on Classie’s head courtesy of her friend. Classie pushed Florence’s legs away in annoyance.
She explained that she had zero interest in the man. His family lineage meant nothing to her, and she simply did not care who he was.
Florence countered by pointing out that the man clearly didn’t feel the same way about her.
The mere suggestion made Classie recoil in disgust. When Florence continued to mess with her damp hair, she argued that he seemed like a perfectly fine gentleman.
Classie was incredulous. She demanded to know what part of him could possibly be considered decent.
Florence’s answer was simple: his appearance.
She claimed he was the most attractive man Classie had ever been linked to. Furthermore, his constant assistance suggested a kind heart, and the way he gazed at Classie was undeniably tender.
Classie finally had enough and forced Florence out of the bathing area. As her friend retreated, Classie sent a wave of water splashing after her, prompting a shriek and the heavy thud of the door closing.
Left alone, Classie rubbed her stiff leg and pouted, scoffing at the idea of him having a gentle expression.
By the time she had bathed, dressed, and dried her hair, a servant arrived to lead her to dinner. Leaning on her cane, Classie navigated the stairs to the dining hall.
Dernick greeted her with a radiant grin. Once the meal was set and the staff had departed, he spoke with easy charm. He remarked that good intentions must truly be rewarded, as his small favor for Classie had resulted in such a magnificent meal in a beautiful residence.
Florence immediately jumped on the opening, asking if he truly admired their home. Classie used the tip of her cane to nudge Florence’s skirt, a silent command to drop the act.
To Classie’s relief, the meal proceeded in silence. It seemed her friend had finally abandoned her prying questions.
However, the peace was short-lived. Florence suddenly stood up, claiming they were out of pickled radishes and that she would fetch more.
Classie was baffled. Five maids were standing by specifically to handle such requests. There was absolutely no reason for the hostess to go to the kitchen herself.
Despite the absurdity of the excuse, Florence grabbed a dish and hurried out of the room, leaving Classie and Dernick alone.
Classie stared at the empty doorway, paralyzed by the sheer transparency of the move. It took a few moments of heavy silence for the reality to sink in: Florence had engineered this isolation on purpose.
Feeling exposed, Classie stole a look at Dernick. He was already watching her, leaning his chin on his palm with a persistent smile.
Florence’s praise of his looks drifted back into Classie’s mind. She forced a small, awkward smile and looked down at her plate, tightening her grip on her fork. She understood Florence’s meddling, but there was a major complication.
Merran was infatuated with this man. Classie had no desire to pursue someone her own niece was pining for. Besides, she hadn’t been interested in Dernick even before she knew of Merran’s feelings.
A heavy sigh escaped her as she moved her salad around.
Dernick broke the silence, asking why she looked so troubled.
Classie set her fork down, realizing that playing with her food was poor form. She told him that Florence was clearly under a massive misunderstanding.
Dernick’s expression turned playful, as if he were enjoying a private joke. He asked what kind of misunderstanding she meant.
Realizing that evasion was useless, Classie decided to be blunt. She explained that Florence believed there was a romantic spark between them. She told him she had tried to deny it repeatedly, but Florence wouldn’t listen. She asked him to simply ignore her friend’s strange behavior.
Satisfied with her explanation, she took a sip of her soup.
Dernick’s response was a curveball. He remarked that the Viscountess was actually quite observant.
Classie froze, her spoon still mid-air. She looked up to find him still leaning on his hand, looking quite pleased with himself.
When she asked for clarification, he spoke more firmly. He said that Florence had correctly identified his interest in her.
The shock left Classie in a daze, unsure if she should continue eating or put the spoon away. It felt as though a swarm of bees had been released in her brain. How could he possibly be interested in her?
She thought of Merran, who had been so certain that things were progressing beautifully with Dernick, even hinting at a potential wedding.
Classie wiped her mouth with her napkin and fixed Dernick with a cold stare. She wondered if he was nothing more than a shallow womanizer.
Dernick reacted to her glare by clutching his chest in mock shock. He teased that she was the very first person to ever look at him with such hostility after a confession of interest.
His playfulness only irritated her further. She told him sternly that she didn’t appreciate these kinds of jokes. She acknowledged his love for teasing but told him that this specific topic was unwelcome and offensive.
Dernick’s face settled into a more earnest expression. He insisted he wasn’t joking and that his interest was genuine. He believed they would be highly compatible.
Classie gripped her water glass, trying to drown out her rising temper. She had only wanted to fix Florence’s mistake, and now she was dealing with this sudden confession.
Furthermore, she wondered if he had forgotten that she had recently pursued Kishin.
She pointedly asked him if he was aware of her date with Sir Kishin.
Dernick confirmed that he knew. He noted that since she had been turned down, the matter was closed. He mentioned that Kishin had described her as someone who moves on quickly when things don’t work out. He claimed to be the same way, stating that he disliked clingy relationships and thought they would be a perfect match.
Classie was stunned by his sheer audacity, yet he looked entirely serious. She felt a twinge of frustration toward both men. Kishin had rejected her and then criticized her for not being persistent, while his friend was moving in the moment the path was clear. It felt like a bizarre betrayal of their friendship.
Regardless of the men’s dynamics or Merran’s feelings, Classie simply didn’t want him.
She briefly considered using Merran as an excuse but decided that a partial truth was better. She told him he was mistaken and that she simply had no desire for romance or emotional entanglements of any kind.
Dernick raised an eyebrow, pointing out that she had been quite bold when it came to Kishin.
Classie felt her face heat up. She explained that her pursuit of Kishin was a matter of legal necessity regarding her inheritance and parental consent for marriage.
She realized she was being perhaps too transparent, but she knew many other young nobles faced the same pressure. Usually, it was a conflict between love and duty, but for her, it was purely practical.
Since things with Kishin were over, she saw no reason to keep up appearances. She decided to lay everything bare.
She reminded him of the inheritance laws. The longer she remained unmarried, the less she would receive. With three married older siblings, her share was already dwindling.
She explained the family’s wealth distribution system. Each child was born with a theoretical share—twenty percent in her case, since there were five siblings. This could be claimed upon marriage.
However, the arrival of grandchildren changed the math. When her sister Mary had a child, the remaining pool of wealth had to be recalculated to include the new member of the family.
Classie’s portion had been chipped away by Merran, her sister’s twins, and her brothers’ children. With another pregnancy in the family and her brothers still young, her share was under constant threat.
Her siblings never offered sympathy, only reminding her that they had dealt with the same thing when she was born.
Classie concluded her long, cold explanation of her financial motivations. Dernick sat in silence, seemingly stunned.
Embarrassed by her own pragmatism, Classie toyed with her ears and muttered that while it sounded cold, she had to protect what little she had left, or it would all go to her siblings.
To her shock, Dernick’s smile returned, wider than ever. He opened his arms as if to embrace the idea.
He declared that they were perfectly aligned in their values. Even as an only child who didn’t face the same pressure, he understood her completely.
He told her that he wanted his own inheritance but didn’t want a spouse chosen by his parents. He proposed a contract marriage, confident that her status and background would satisfy his family’s requirements.
