Chapter 161
The faint sunlight filtering through the curtains was helpful. Laura could see. The dark circles under his eyes, sunken and deep. His face, pale and rough.
'He's had a hard time. As much as I have.'
Laura's heart ached. She wanted to rush over and hug him tightly. But she didn't want to wake him. It was obvious he hadn't slept well last night.
'My dear. My Ian. You might not care, but some people in the world still think our marriage is inappropriate. That I'll ruin you and the Dalton Family. I don't care what happens to me, but I wanted to protect the name of Ian Dalton, the landowner. A proper, moral, and respectable true gentleman. Because that's who you really are. That's why I was so defensive. That's why I reacted so sensitively, even though I'm naturally shy. It's not because I disliked you... I'm sorry. It was all for you, but I didn't know it would make things so difficult for us...'
Laura wiped away the tears welling up in her eyes and shifted her gaze. He was holding something tightly in his hands, pressed against his chest.
'Did this give you comfort?'
Laura quietly looked at what he was holding. It was hard to see clearly in the dim light, but it looked like a black cloth.
Laura gently rubbed the end of the fabric hanging below his arm with her fingertips.
It was a moderately thick wool. The surface was rough, like sandpaper. It was a cheap fabric that someone as wealthy as Ian would never wear in his life.
Laura tilted her head and then turned her gaze back to Ian's face.
The sleeping Ian looked pitiful and lovable. Like a child who had cried himself to sleep looking for his mother. Laura couldn't resist the urge to kiss him.
'I can kiss you as much as I want when you wake up. Just a little longer. Just a little...'
"Umm..."
Ian let out a soft breath and stirred. Laura was a little surprised but pressed her lips together and remained silent.
A long, sigh-like exhale escaped his lips. His breath smelled strongly of mint.
He brought the bundle of cloth he was holding to his nose. And took a deep breath.
The long breath continued. He fiddled with the rough, cheap cloth, smelled it, and rubbed it against his cheek.
"Laura..."
He mumbled in a weak voice.
"Laura..."
She couldn't take it anymore. Laura took his hand.
He flinched, took his face away from the cloth, and looked straight ahead.
Their eyes met.
Ian just stared at Laura. Laura smiled awkwardly.
"...I'm here."
"..."
"Let's go to the bedroom. There's no point in having separate rooms anymore. Anyway, the rumors have already started... and I can't be without you anymore..."
Suddenly, he reached out his hand.
"Ah!"
A strong force grabbed Laura and pulled her onto the bed. In an instant, Laura was lying on the bed.
Ian was lying on top of her.
His hand caressed Laura's face.
"Is it real?"
"..."
"Is it really Laura?"
Laura's gaze wavered. Even amidst the confusion, she felt like she had to give him the right answer. Because his face looked like he was about to burst into tears.
Laura nodded.
"Prove it."
"...What..."
"Prove that this isn't a dream."
Tears welled up in his eyes.
"I know it's just another dream. You'll say you forgive me and then disappear in the blink of an eye. You'll make me search all over Whitefield for you. You'll make me wake up from the dream and cry, seeing an empty bed."
His tears fell onto Laura's face.
"You'll just leave like that, without caring how much I regret it, how afraid I am of losing you."
Laura groaned as if in pain.
'Ah, why do you suffer so easily because of me?'
The answer was obvious. Because he loved her. Because he loved Laura more than himself.
Laura stroked Ian's hair. Until he stopped crying.
As if her touch had a magical effect, Ian's sobs slowly subsided.
When the tears stopped, Laura wiped his wet cheeks. Ian felt her touch but still looked at her with distrust in his eyes.
Laura pulled his face closer and gave him a light kiss.
"Do illusions kiss you too?"
He looked at Laura with a surprised expression.
Laura opened the collar of his shirt, which was unbuttoned. And ran her hand along his slender neck.
"Do illusions caress you like this too?"
Laura gently pushed Ian's shoulder. He lay down on the bed as Laura pushed him, as if he had lost the strength he had used to pull her in.
Laura gently straddled Ian's hips.
She leaned down and showered kisses on Ian's face. At the same time, she slowly unbuttoned Ian's shirt.
Soon the shirt opened, revealing his curved bare skin. Laura blushed slightly and untied the ribbon around her waist.
Thud, the ribbon fell to the floor.
"I'll prove it to you. That it's not a dream."
* * *
In the center of Whitefield Hall stood a tall grandfather clock. It was a slender, French-style piece of furniture, one of the items that Patricia Dalton, the previous Mrs. Dalton, had brought with her when she got married.
The clock's chimes were clear and beautiful, like its shape. While most grandfather clocks made heavy, dull sounds, Patricia Dalton's grandfather clock emitted a lovely chime that sounded like bells or the tapping of a glass, stretching out for a long time.
Tonight, as always, the grandfather clock chimed midnight, ringing out its clear chimes. The sound spread throughout the house. To the kitchen, where the cooks' sweat was ingrained, to the staircase where Ramswick scurried up and down all day, to Noel's study, where he had been writing replies to love letters all evening, and to the empty bedroom of the master and mistress.
And to the guest room at the east end of the third floor, where the air was moist.
The guest room was small. It was originally intended to be a space for children under the age of 10 who were invited to Whitefield.
Perhaps that's why, even with only one small lamp lit above the bed, the room was bright in every corner.
Of course, the brightest place was right under the lamp, the bed where the master and mistress were lying.
Ding- Ding- Ding-
Under the light, Ian, who was stroking Laura's luscious auburn hair, heard the chimes ringing in his ears.
"It's midnight."
Laura, who was leaning her head against her husband's chest and breathing heavily, nodded.
"It's midnight."
Ian hugged Laura tightly.
"Is it time to stop loving you?"
Laura chuckled.
"Can you love me more?"
"I can as much as you want. But I like being like this more."
"I was going to call you a beast if you said you'd do more."
"I've heard it so much from you that I don't even feel anything anymore."
Ian wrapped Laura's hair around his finger. A piece of the red sunset was caught in his hand. He smiled happily and kissed her hair.
"It's okay to make you angry. We become so happy while making up. Should we fight again later?"
"No, I don't want to. I was worried sick."
"You were worried?"
"Yes. Olivia said you were dying."
Ian chuckled.
"That girl. She exaggerates."
Laura looked up at Ian's face. His expression was bright, but he definitely looked a little haggard.
"Didn't you sleep?"
"No."
"Did you eat?"
"I didn't."
Laura rested her chin between her husband's pectoral muscles and sighed.
"We shouldn't have separate rooms, no matter how much we hate each other."
Ian suddenly pulled Laura's face closer and made eye contact.
"Because your heart breaks when you see me starving? Because my pain is your pain?"
Laura felt a little overwhelmed by his gaze, but she nodded obediently. He smiled like a fool, no, like the fool he was, and pulled Laura in for a kiss. Since the midnight bell had rung, it didn't go as far as a French kiss.
He rubbed noses with Laura and murmured.
"What am I going to do with you, our Laura, loving me so much? You'd be in big trouble without me. Right?"
Laura burst into laughter.
"Yes. That's right."
"We have to be together forever? Loving each other like this?"
"Of course."
"Comforting me like you did earlier?"
Laura's face turned bright red.
"Will you treat me like a ride at an amusement park sometimes?"
She slapped Ian's chest.
"You're so vulgar, really."
"Won't you do it? I'm asking you, your beloved is asking you?"
"No."
Laura turned away. Ian quickly turned her back so she would look at him.
"Okay. Okay. Don't turn your back on me. Lie down looking at me."
Laura obediently lay down facing him again. But as she turned, she felt something rough touching her bare skin. She hadn't noticed it until now because she was so out of it, but there was something else between them besides the bed sheet and blanket.
Laura reached under the blanket and pulled out the rough thing. It was a black shawl. A very crude, cheap shawl.
As she wondered why something like this was on the bed, Ian quickly snatched the shawl away. He held the shawl preciously in his arms.
Seeing him like that, she remembered him sleeping with that thing in his arms.
"Ian. That's a women's shawl. Why do you have something like that?"
"..."
"Is it perhaps a memento of your mother's?"
He shook his head.
"Ah, then did your brother give it to you as a gift before he got married..."
He flared up.
"Do you think I'd be sleeping with my married sister's shawl at my age?"
"Then?"
Ian kept his mouth shut. Laura thought about trying to trick him into saying it was from a mistress, but she stopped. It would be too much for her husband, who would surely be frustrated to death.
As Laura was thinking about this and that while looking at the shawl, she suddenly realized that the pattern of the shawl looked familiar. She searched her memory and soon remembered that it used to be hers.
"This is mine. From when I was a governess! When was it? At the cottage? I lent it to you then and asked you to throw it away instead..."
"..."
"Why have you kept it all this time?"
"...Because it was yours."
He admitted with an embarrassed expression.
"I wanted to have something of yours. It has your scent, and I can hold it when I want to... Don't think of it strangely! In romance novels, there are a lot of male protagonists who secretly steal a glove from the woman they love and look at it from time to time. It's like that."
Laura was a little dumbfounded.
"I could understand gloves, but that shawl seems too shabby to be used for anything romantic."
"How is it shabby when it wrapped around your body?"
