Chapter 148
<Side Story 1>
Part 1
The Dalton couple's carriage stopped in the front yard of Whitefield Hall.
Butler Ramswick and uniformed servants, who had been waiting in front of the mansion to coincide with the return of the master and mistress, walked towards the carriage.
Ramswick lowered the footstool and opened the carriage door.
Inside the carriage, a man sat with his legs crossed. Neatly combed black hair, a handsome man in a gray suit and black tie. It was Ian Dalton, the master of Whitefield.
"Welcome ho—"
Ramswick was about to offer a polite greeting, but the master extended a slender index finger to his lips.
Shhh. Don't say anything. That's what the master seemed to be saying. Ramswick closed his mouth.
Ian Dalton embraced the woman leaning against him. Then, he silently stepped down using the footstool.
In his arms was Mrs. Laura Dalton, who had become the mistress of Whitefield Hall a year ago. Sleeping with her head resting on her husband's firm chest, she looked as comfortable as a baby nestled in its mother's arms.
Ian Dalton instructed Ramswick, whispering in his ear as if afraid of waking his wife.
"Have all the luggage moved to the dressing room."
Ramswick quietly bowed his head. Ian Dalton slowly walked towards the mansion.
The butler watched the master heading home with his wife in his arms. He recalled the image of the Dalton couple returning from their honeymoon a year ago. The master, with a smiling face, carrying his wife out of the carriage, and the beautiful Mrs. Dalton, her face flushed, embracing her husband's neck.
'I've never seen a couple look so happy.'
Ramswick's mind flashed back to the married life of the master and mistress, which he had observed from a distance over the past year. A faint smile appeared on his lips.
'And no other couple could have made each other so happy.'
As the couple disappeared inside, Ramswick instructed the servants to unload the luggage. By tomorrow, the mistress would explain how to unpack and organize the luggage so clearly that even a five-year-old could understand. And she would give rational instructions regarding the large and small household matters awaiting her judgment. He had lived as a butler in one mansion for almost his entire life, but he could fully trust and follow the mistress's instructions.
Ramswick, who had been busy filling the void left by the absence of a mistress, regained a relaxed daily life for the first time in nearly 30 years under the command of a clever commander. He nodded, watching the procession of luggage being carried in by the servants one by one.
'This marriage is a success.'
* * *
Laura was sound asleep until he passed through the hallway and opened the bedroom door. But the moment Ian gently laid her on the bed, Laura's eyelids twitched and then slowly lifted.
"...Ian?"
Laura mumbled.
"Are you awake?"
"Yes..."
Laura rubbed her eyes and looked around.
"Did you carry me in again?"
Ian, sitting on the edge of the bed, took off his jacket and replied.
"I couldn't wake a sleeping person."
"Wake me up, why not? It must have been heavy."
"If you're heavy, how heavy are the snowflakes falling from the sky?"
He smiled and pulled down his tie. Laura stared at him with drowsy eyes, then tried to get up.
Ian grabbed Laura's shoulders and laid her back down on the bed.
"Just sleep. I'll change your clothes for you."
"But... you must be tired too... I need to wash..."
That's what she said, but Laura's pronunciation was slurred with sleepiness. He leaned over Laura. The two faces were close enough to touch noses. Ian put his hand behind her neck and gently massaged it. Laura groaned softly, as if feeling good.
He rubbed their noses together and whispered in a playful voice.
"I'll wipe you with a wet towel. Your face, hands, feet, everything."
Laura smiled bashfully and wrapped her arms around her husband's neck. Her hand fiddled with Ian's handsome ear.
"Will you take care of me, Ian?"
"Yes. Like a servant."
He kissed Laura on the lips.
"I've always been envious of your maids. Following you around, taking care of your clothes, combing your hair, drawing your bathwater. When I see that, I want to leave all the land management to Noel and get a job as your exclusive servant."
Laura chuckled. Ian repeatedly pecked Laura's lips like a bird pecking.
"I'm talking seriously, why are you laughing?"
"Because I can imagine you in a maid outfit..."
"You're having such gruesome thoughts?"
"No, you'd be cute. You in a maid outfit... I want to see it."
He gently pinched Laura's cheek.
"No matter how much I love you, I can't do that for you, Laura."
"I know... I just thought of it... I'm so sleepy right now... just nonsense... Ugh... When will we visit Dunville Park and the Parsonage...?"
"Let's talk about it tomorrow. Sleep now."
Laura stroked her husband's smooth black hair for a moment. Soon her hand lost strength, and she fell asleep again with her arms around her husband's neck.
Ian quietly looked down at Laura's face.
He loved watching Laura sleep. In her sleeping face resided the Laura of her girlhood. Innocent, defenseless, and lovely.
His eyes became hazy.
'Laura is always elegant. She wears dignity and reason like Armor. But not in the bedroom. She snores, whines, and even talks in her sleep. Laura only shows this side of herself in front of her husband. Only in front of me, Ian Dalton.'
A thrilling pleasure ran down his spine. Goosebumps rose on his skin, and his heart ached.
'It will only be me in the future too. Laura will only have one husband for the rest of her life.'
It was a thought that made him laugh involuntarily, but paradoxically, tears welled up in his eyes.
He wiped away the tears and got up. In terms of feelings alone, he wanted to keep looking at Laura's sleeping face forever, but he was worried that Laura would be uncomfortable. She was wearing a corset inside, so it would be stuffy if she slept like this.
Ian slowly unbuttoned the dress. He took off the corset, petticoat, underpants, and stockings one by one. His touch was so gentle that Laura didn't wake up even while all her clothes were being removed and a loose one-piece nightgown was being put on.
While combing her hair, he loved Laura, who was sleeping soundly without waking up even once, so he kissed his wife on the forehead.
He loosely braided Laura's long auburn hair and draped it over her right shoulder. Then he brought a wet towel and carefully wiped Laura's face and hands, and finally went to the bottom of the bed and knelt down to wash her feet.
Her feet were a little swollen from the hard journey. He felt sorry for them being trapped in hard shoes all day. He carefully washed her feet and then began to massage them gently.
Laura's feet fit perfectly in his large hands. It was as if he was holding a baby bird that had fallen from its nest in both hands.
'This is the first time I've looked at them so intently.'
He massaged the soles of her feet and carefully examined Laura's feet. The instep, with its gentle curve, was soft and white enough to faintly show the veins. The five toes at the end were as white as the instep, and the ends were tinged with pink. The small, round shape was adorable.
'How can even her feet be so pretty?'
His eyes became hazy again. He stroked the instep, as elegant as a swan's back, and caressed the toes, as cute as forget-me-nots.
Ian's face slowly flushed. In the end, he couldn't resist and began to shower kisses on Laura's instep.
Before meeting Laura, if someone had told Ian that he would kiss his wife's instep after getting married, Ian would have given them a contemptuous look and left. He was an extremely clean man, and he used to feel disgusted just thinking about other people's feet.
But he didn't feel any impurity in his current actions. The feet he was kissing now were different from those of ordinary people. They were the feet of his wife, his eternal partner, and the angel who had come into his life.
He sincerely thought of Laura as an angel. The happiness Laura had given him after their marriage had long surpassed the happiness that could be obtained from a mere human.
Before the wedding, he had repeatedly told Laura not to feel any pressure about becoming Mrs. Dalton. Ramswick would take care of the household affairs, interacting with the locals was the duty of the landowner, not yours, and he would be satisfied just having you by his side.
Laura only smiled. That smile meant, 'I understand what you mean, but I'll do as I think.'
After the wedding, Laura really acted as she thought.
Laura showed the people Ian loved the same love he did. By taking good care of the family at Dunville Park, the residents of the Estate, and the Star couple at the Parsonage. In addition, she perfectly managed Whitefield Hall with the delicate skills that only a woman could have, and earned the respect of the staff with her gentle dignity.
She was also a good wife to Ian. She grasped Ian's habits and changed her life in a way that could make her husband comfortable.
Ian could feel Laura's consideration in the menu full of his favorite dishes, in the warmly heated slippers waiting for him every evening, in the fact that the ugly still life painting in the dining room, which he had always been bothered by but couldn't do anything about because it had been hanging there for 150 years, had been secretly moved to the Long Gallery, and in countless other changes.
Laura was the most ideal wife a man could welcome.
Ian felt love in Laura's consideration, and through that love, he became the happiest man in the world.
Even after the marriage, the images of Laura that filled his sketchbook were always in the shape of a winged angel. Sitting in a chair with her wings neatly folded, reading a book and embroidering, flying over the forest with her white wings spread. Sleeping in a sunny daffodil field, covering herself with her wings like a blanket.
Laura, seeing the paintings, would shake her head, saying that his imagination was too much, but he was just drawing what he saw. In his eyes, Laura was the guardian angel of Whitefield, wearing a crown of stars and white wings.
