Chapter 63
Standing in the brilliant sunshine, a child with hair as red and fluffy as spun sugar looked up at Jacqueline. Benjamin’s gaze was luminous, filled with an innocent sense of devotion and trust.
She felt the sharp edge of her own tension begin to dull. Softening her expression, Jacqueline spoke with a gentle warmth.
“We aren’t in the safety of the manor gardens now—out here, one never knows what might happen. Shall we hold hands while we walk?”
Benjamin hesitated, casting a troubled look toward his uncle. He worried that if he took Jacqueline’s hand, his uncle would dismiss him as nothing more than a coddled child.
That was the last thing Benjamin wanted. As the future Marquess of Preston, he felt the heavy weight of living up to the man’s expectations.
And yet, the invitation was agonizingly sweet—much like the time he had been tempted into the gardens to hunt for cicadas.
“…Yes, Miss Somerset. Since all the other children are doing the same, I suppose I should.”
With that flimsy justification, Benjamin nodded. Almost instantly, as if she had been poised for his consent, a warm palm enveloped his small hand.
Jacqueline’s touch was as smooth as silk, yet there was a firm reliability to it, as if she promised never to let go.
Guided by a warmth that rivaled the golden light spilling over them, Benjamin began to walk. Although curious glances followed them from every corner of the park, the three of them moved in a dignified silence.
The sun was pleasant, and a soft breeze stirred the air. New grass cushioned their steps while the canopy overhead shimmered like emeralds.
It was a flawless moment. Benjamin’s dark eyes darted back and forth, desperate to commit every detail to memory.
“Lord Preston.”
At Jacqueline’s soft prompt, Windsor shifted only his gaze toward her. She leaned in and whispered,
“Perhaps you could try a smile? Otherwise, people might assume you’ve been brought here against your will.”
Windsor remained stony-faced. Jacqueline let out a tiny sigh, though she hadn’t truly expected a different reaction.
“If you were to smile—even just once—it would cause a sensation. You’d likely turn the entire social season upside down.”
Privately, Benjamin found himself agreeing. His uncle was, after all, the legendary “Demon of the Black Fleet,” and possessed a striking, formidable beauty.
Stepping forward with newfound pride, the boy stole a glance to his side. He saw Windsor’s empty hand, and a flash of longing crossed his face.
Knowing his uncle’s temperament, the idea of them ever walking hand-in-hand seemed like an impossible dream—but Benjamin knew that if it ever happened, he would burst with pride.
Fearful that his yearning might be written on his face, he quickly smoothed his expression into one of cool composure.
He hoped no one had noticed.
Looking around to distract himself, the boy’s eyes suddenly rounded. He leaned toward Jacqueline and whispered,
“Miss Somerset, there are so many trees here.”
“There are indeed. Almost as many as at Preston Manor. With the leaves so thick and green, it feels as though summer has already arrived.”
“There are even varieties I haven’t seen in our garden.”
Benjamin paused, his expression turning thoughtful and bright with a sudden spark of excitement.
“There must be so many cicada shells hidden here. Perhaps even insects I’ve never encountered—didn’t you say that different soil and trees attract different creatures?”
“I did say that.”
Jacqueline nodded, though a shadow of regret crossed her face as she looked at him.
“But Benjamin, I’m afraid we can’t go exploring today.”
The boy’s eyes widened in brief disappointment before he regained his poise. When he spoke, it was with the practiced resolve of the Preston heir.
“I understand, Miss Somerset. I am well aware of my position. There are many eyes upon me, and I must maintain the dignity required of a future marquess.”
“…I see.”
Jacqueline felt a strange sense of role reversal, as if the child were the one teaching the adult. Feeling slightly awkward, she turned her head and caught Windsor’s eye.
For a fleeting second, she thought she saw the corner of his mouth twitch. She narrowed her eyes, giving him a sharp look.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“You certainly look as though you are.”
“I never laugh.”
Still skeptical, Jacqueline kept her gaze fixed on him. Benjamin watched the exchange, his head bobbing back and forth between the two adults.
A small, genuine smile finally touched the boy’s lips. He knew he would never forget this day—the way the sunlight seemed to reach out to him like a friend.
The scene was being etched into his heart like a masterpiece.
“Oh?”
He stopped abruptly, his attention snagged by something in the distance. He tilted his head, catching a sugary fragrance dancing on the wind.
“What is that, Miss Somerset?”
“Hmm? What are you—oh.”
She let out a soft breath and stopped beside him. Nearby, a group of children were clustered together, holding fluffy treats and laughing gleefully.
It looked like a handful of captured clouds. Jacqueline tried to keep her voice steady, though her smile held a trace of melancholy.
“That is cotton candy.”
“Cotton candy?”
Benjamin’s eyes danced. He watched, mesmerized, as the children appeared to pull pieces of a cloud apart and eat them.
Good heavens!
“Is it… edible?”
“Yes, it is.”
“What does it taste like?”
The children enjoying the treat looked radiant with happiness. Judging by their expressions, Benjamin concluded it must be the most delicious thing in the world.
“Well… I haven’t had it since I was very small. But I remember it being incredibly sweet, like pure sugar.”
“Wow.”
The boy let out a long, wistful sigh, closing his eyes to imagine the sensation. His mouth moved slightly, as if he could already taste the sweetness on his tongue.
Then, he straightened his shoulders and spoke with forced pragmatism.
“But I suppose I cannot have any. The children eating it all look like commoners.”
“You are right, Benjamin. It’s an unfortunate reality. Nobility does not eat while walking in public.”
“I thought as much.”
The boy gave a solemn nod. He didn’t complain or beg. Looking at him, Jacqueline felt a sharp pang of sympathy.
People often envied the lives of noble children, yet even they were forced to sacrifice the simplest joys.
Benjamin was already far too practiced at this. He had learned early on that it was easier to simply accept a loss than to fight against the rigid expectations of his rank.
Jacqueline’s eyes met Windsor’s again. He was frowning slightly, noting how her face looked pinched, as if she were on the verge of tears.
He couldn’t fathom why she had shifted from irritation to such profound gloom. Recalling the conversation about the sweets, he guessed that the cotton candy was the source of her distress.
He and Jacqueline were still worlds apart—as different as a whale and a frog, or a cat and a sparrow. They shared neither the same perspective nor the same language.
Windsor slowed his pace. Ahead of him, Jacqueline and Benjamin walked hand-in-hand, their quiet voices drifting back to him like soft waves.
He leaned in and whispered a command to the maid trailing behind them. Betty’s eyes went wide; she nodded quickly and hurried off into the crowd.
A moment later, Jacqueline stopped and looked back. Benjamin followed suit, waiting for him.
Under their silent gaze, Windsor finally moved forward, stepping back into the light.
The world seemed to go quiet. The prying eyes of the public faded from his vision, and the endless murmurs of the crowd no longer reached him.
Even the frantic buzzing of the cicadas, which had been so grating moments ago, failed to break his concentration.
“That was a lovely walk, Miss Somerset. It felt quite different from the gardens back home.”
“I agree, Benjamin. I’m so pleased I could share this afternoon with you.”
“Do you think I might tell Olivia and Justin about it? Or would that be unseemly for a Preston?”
“Hmm… I believe sharing the story is perfectly fine. Often, it is the way one tells a story that matters more than the story itself.”
“I understand, Miss Somerset.”
They continued their quiet conversation as they approached the waiting carriage. Windsor stood by the door, his face unreadable as he offered his hand to help them inside.
Reversing the order from earlier, Benjamin took his uncle’s hand first and climbed in.
“Thank you, Uncle.”
“Think nothing of it.”
Jacqueline, having folded her parasol, hesitated. She stared at Windsor’s outstretched hand, her teeth catching her lower lip. Finally, she lifted her chin and slowly placed her hand in his.
The moment their skin touched—
A jolt of electricity surged through her. It felt like a crack of thunder or a sudden bolt of lightning—a mirror of that tempestuous night when the rain had been relentless.
Her throat felt tight with an inexplicable pressure. Her vision blurred for a second, and her self-control wavered.
Just as she felt her strength falter, she caught sight of Windsor’s impassive face and forced herself to remain composed.
She refused to be the only one rattled. With a touch of practiced haughtiness, she spoke.
“My thanks, Lord Preston.”
“You are welcome, Miss Somerset.”
Jacqueline climbed into the carriage. As he withdrew his hand, his fingers brushed slowly, deliberately, over her knuckles.
She pulled back as if she had been burned, quickly curling her fingers into a tight fist.
Her skin felt scorched. The lingering sensation of his touch remained as vivid as if he were still holding her.
As she let out a soft, shaky breath, she noticed Benjamin tilting his head in curiosity. He was staring at a brown paper parcel resting on the seat across from them.
Jacqueline sat down beside the boy and looked at the package.
“What is that, Benjamin?”
“I’m not sure, Miss Somerset.”
Benjamin shook his head. Windsor took his seat in the remaining space and said simply,
“It is for you.”
“For me?”
Looking confused, Benjamin reached out. His small fingers worked quickly to undo the twine and open the bag.
“Oh!”
A cry of pure joy escaped him. His eyes shone like polished stones. He reached deep into the paper envelope.
Jacqueline’s expression softened. A sugary aroma filled the carriage. She watched his hand, already suspecting what he would find.
Sure enough, he pulled out a cloud of white, fluffy cotton candy.
“Thank you, Uncle!”
Benjamin, completely forgetting his duty as the future Marquess of Preston, beamed with the unadulterated happiness of a child.
Windsor gave a short, indifferent nod. His eyes then shifted to Jacqueline.
He expected her to look away—just as she had when she’d hurriedly pulled her hand from his.
She hadn’t seemed to want his touch at all. She had hesitated to take his hand and abandoned it the second she was able.
He fully expected her to be the first to break eye contact.
But she didn’t.
