Chapter 160
Laura forced a wry smile, trying to mask her contorted expression as she patted Olivia.
"You'll adjust soon enough. Don't worry, Olivia."
Around five o'clock, Olivia boarded the carriage to return. She had promised her mother to be back before the formal dinner. Mrs. Fairfax was concerned that Olivia was clinging to Laura too much, disrupting the couple's time (and preventing Ian from giving Laura a baby seed), so she always made Olivia promise to return before the formal dinner and provided her with a carriage. If she broke the promise, she wouldn't be allowed to use the carriage for a month.
As Olivia sat in the carriage, she spoke to Laura, who stood beside it to see her off.
"Aunt, don't worry too much."
"Worry about what?"
Olivia smiled slightly mischievously.
"Mother always said that rumors of the world are meaningless. If you're not ashamed of yourself, you can just ignore them like birds chirping. Honestly, it's not like you and Uncle have committed a crime, right? You're just too affectionate. Though, you should have been more discreet outside."
Laura's face rapidly turned crimson as she understood the meaning.
"W-w-where... where did you hear such a thing...?"
"I stopped by the Parsonage before coming here. Judging by the fact that Mrs. Starr knew, it's probably spread throughout the village."
Laura wished she could just sink into the floor.
"Mrs. Starr told me to tell you to be sure to attend Sunday service. She said that if you act like you've committed a crime when you haven't, people will really think you have. The best thing to do is to be brazen."
Olivia leaned out the window, pecked Laura's reddened cheek, and shouted to the coachman to depart.
The carriage drove away.
"Brazen, huh..."
Laura sighed deeply and turned to trudge back into the mansion.
She had already expected the rumors to spread. In a quiet rural village, such sensational gossip was bound to spread with wings, not feet. The residents of this area had probably shared the Dalton couple's French kissing incident over the dinner table with bread, potatoes, and roast meat. And they probably thought it was more delicious than any food.
'What will people think of the Dalton Family? And of Ian?'
She had tried so hard to protect her husband's dignity, but it had all been in vain.
Laura suddenly stopped and looked up at the mansion. Among the many windows of the mansion, she spotted the window of his study.
The shame caused by the rumors quickly disappeared from her mind.
'Ian looks unwell?'
Her heart pounded. Her fingertips trembled, and her complexion turned pale. The emotional turmoil she had desperately suppressed in front of Olivia began to manifest as physical reactions.
Olivia had said that he looked like he hadn't eaten or slept for days. He seemed as weak as a paper doll.
'Is he so heartbroken because I was angry?'
Laura's face looked like she was about to cry. She was just as heartbroken.
After returning from the forest yesterday, Laura had locked herself in the bedroom and just cried. She was so upset that such a scene had been witnessed, and she was angry at Ian for lying to her. She had firmly decided not to let him into her bed for at least a week.
Laura had dinner alone in her room, and when night came, she lay down to sleep alone.
However, she couldn't sleep at all.
Every night, she fell asleep in her husband's arms, feeling his warmth and receiving his kisses. At those times, Laura could fall into a deep sleep without any thoughts. The bed without Ian was cold and hard. She felt strangely uneasy, like a baby separated from its mother's embrace.
She tossed and turned for a long time, finally managing to get a few hours of shallow sleep around dawn.
Laura, who woke up in a daze from lack of sleep, thought of her husband. Had he slept well? Had he tossed and turned because of the unfamiliar bed? She thought even while eating breakfast. Was he having his meal? He didn't like jam, so she should have removed it from the menu.
Even while discussing household matters with Ramswick, Laura blankly thought. What was he doing? Was he reading the newspaper? Or was he taking a walk? Was he tending to the apple trees?
When Ramswick casually mentioned that the master had slept in the east guest room last night, Laura didn't show it, but she was quite shocked. It was in the opposite direction from the marital bedroom. It meant that she had been so far away from him last night. She was afraid. Would she have to sleep so far away from him tonight and tomorrow night as well?
She realized how familiar and important Ian had become. After a year of marriage, she had become a child who couldn't live without her husband.
Laura didn't like her condition and firmly resolved to pull herself together. She had three cups of tea with lunch and focused on her translation work during the afternoon. She could concentrate on her work, but she still felt uneasy. The root of her unease was longing and loneliness.
'If our love is of equal weight, then he must have spent the day like me.'
Laura thought as she finished her translation work and looked down at the rose garden. She wished he loved her a little less. She didn't want him to suffer from loneliness like she did. It would be sad if he loved her less than she loved him, but she hated it even more if he was having a hard time. For Laura, Ian had become more precious than herself.
To her, the news that Ian looked ill was like a bolt from the blue.
Of course, Olivia's words couldn't be fully trusted. It was in Olivia's nature to embellish the facts with exaggeration and imagination.
'But it's really strange that he's indifferent to the news that Henry is returning. His beloved nephew is returning to England after a year and a half.'
Was he so heartbroken? So much so that he couldn't feel any excitement at the return of his loved one?
'No, maybe he's sick!'
At the thought that flashed through her mind, Laura almost screamed.
'Maybe he got scratched by the sharp tip of the parasol. Maybe it got infected...!'
Despite the lack of objectivity, Laura couldn't exercise reason due to her worry for him.
She immediately went into the mansion. Laura's footsteps, as she passed through the hall and climbed the stairs, were hurried. The quiet and cautious movements she had always maintained were nowhere to be found.
She knocked on the study door. Noel's voice was heard from inside.
She opened the door and entered. Only Noel, the land agent and secretary, was in the spacious study. He had once been hired as a temporary worker, but he was meticulous in his work and didn't commit any fraud, so he was officially hired at Whitefield Hall.
He, who had been reading a letter with a serious expression, jumped up and bowed at the sudden visit of the mistress of the house. His bald spot was visible from the front.
"Noel, I've come to see Ian."
"Ah, you mean the master? He went back to his bedroom a while ago."
"When?"
"Around two o'clock."
"Why at this time of day..."
He scratched his sparse hair.
"He didn't look well, you see."
"Did he look very unwell?"
"Yes. He had no energy all day... he was a bit, well, like that."
Laura's head spun.
'He really is sick!'
Laura immediately ran out of the study. The only thing left in her wake was the half-closed door creaking and swaying from side to side.
Noel, left alone, went and closed the door. He smiled crookedly with his wrinkled face.
'Honestly, this house is a mess because the couple loves each other too much.'
He had been tormented by the master all day. The master, sitting at the desk next to him, had been lamenting from morning till night that he had been abandoned by his angel, that the whole world had lost its brilliant light, and that he wished God would take him away immediately.
Even if it was worthless nonsense, the employee couldn't ignore it since it was coming from the employer's mouth. He had offered useless comfort for half the day before finally advising him to go in and rest.
The master had admitted that he was in no state to work at all and had trudged back to his room.
'Judging by the mistress's expression, they'll reconcile in the bedroom. After all, there's no better seasoning for love than a fight.'
He chuckled and sat back down at his desk. Then he began to reread the letter he had been reading just now.
The letter was filled with heartfelt confessions that she would give Noel her heart. The expressions were crude and the spelling was clumsy, but the content was sweet.
A signature was attached at the end of the letter. Betty Lodge. The prettiest of the housemaids, a plump twenty-three-year-old laundry maid.
"Love is good. It's good."
He pecked the letter.
* * *
'Just where and how much does it hurt?'
Laura hurried up the stairs.
'...Could it be that his tuberculosis has relapsed?'
It was the worst possible thought. Tears streamed down Laura's cheeks.
'Ah, he barely survived that time...!'
Laura ran down the hallway and reached the guest room at the east end. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
"Ian... are you inside?"
No sound was heard. Had he gone down to meet Ramswick? Or had he gone for a walk on the back path of the mansion to clear his head?
Or...
'Is he suffering?'
Laura didn't hesitate and twisted the doorknob to open the door.
The room was not bright. It was because the curtains were tightly closed. However, since the curtains were made of a translucent material, it wasn't so dark that it was difficult to even make out the outlines.
The bed was right there as soon as you opened the door and entered.
Ian was lying on the bed. In a slouched, curled-up position.
Wearing a suit, with only the collar of his shirt unbuttoned. Disheveled hair. Shoes still on.
Laura was surprised. Ian was a man who wouldn't even go near the bed unless he was perfectly ready for bed.
Laura slowly approached the bed.
The closer she got to the bed, the clearer she could hear his breathing. He wasn't panting in pain, nor was his breath stopping. It was stable breathing. The heart that had been frozen with fear melted halfway.
Laura, who had reached the front of the bed, squatted down and looked at Ian.
