It was a masterpiece of allure, with Madam Lauren's senses fully displayed.
That was Edgar's assessment of Olivia, who stood facing him.
Considering the short preparation period, it was an even more excellent result, and the necklace around her slender neck was a dramatic choice.
So that anyone could recognize her as Olivia Blanchett.
That was the only thing he had asked of Madam Lauren. And it had been reliably accepted and stood before Edgar.
It was regrettable that Lauren's blatant intentions were included in that acceptance, but he decided not to make an issue of it. The woman was quite captivating, after all.
"Why are you here?"
"You saw me. Just a moment ago."
The woman replied with a moderate smile. Her eyes, gleaming blue, were like the surface of a calm lake, as if she were recalling a moment from the past.
Amid the awkward silence, a dance tune with a romantic melody drifted in from afar.
"It's one of my favorite songs."
Edgar said with a grin.
"Dance? Would you like to dance?"
"As you can see, my feet..."
Edgar lowered his gaze, looked at her small, shyly revealed feet, and chuckled. The woman was barefoot.
"How can you play tennis with those little feet?"
"How could you lose with those big feet?"
Edgar couldn't help but laugh. His low laughter mingled with the cheerful rhythm.
"How about participating in the Dumblein tournament?"
Of course, he had anticipated the woman's answer.
"No."
Edgar nodded as if he were disappointed.
"It's a shame, but if Miss Blanchett doesn't feel like it, there's nothing I can do. Ah!"
"What's wrong?"
Olivia turned pale and approached Edgar as he clutched his heart with his large hand and bent over.
Olivia's dress fluttered in the gentle spring breeze, revealing her white legs under the moonlight.
Edgar tilted his head diagonally, gazed at the woman, and grinned. He liked the sight of her face, looking at him with concern.
"It hurts my heart to be rejected."
"What is it? You startled me."
The woman frowned and hit his arm with her clenched fist. Edgar reflexively grabbed Olivia's wrist.
The man's eyes suddenly changed.
"I was just joking. But since you're a tennis-playing lady, it hurts quite a bit."
"I'm sorry."
The noise of the bustling party occasionally drifted in under the brilliant lights. At that moment, the wind blew.
The wind that had passed through the rose garden was terribly sweet. Edgar squeezed his eyes shut. His hand, which had been holding Olivia's wrist, fell away and touched his eyes. Edgar wore a pained expression.
"Don't joke around."
"This time it's real... Will you look?"
Edgar blinked a couple of times and lowered his head toward Olivia.
The woman, who had instinctively pulled her shoulders back, hesitated and then tilted her head slightly and approached. She frowned slightly, as if she couldn't see very well.
"I can't see."
As the distance closed, the woman's breath touched Edgar's cheek. He gently pulled at the corners of his lips and leaned down further.
Still, it wasn't enough, and Olivia rose on her tiptoes. He could feel the woman's body temperature. Edgar stopped breathing.
Clear, blue sea. Her eyes, holding that blue of unfathomable depth, were solely directed at him.
"Grand Bleu."
The woman, who had been standing on tiptoe, lost her balance and swayed at the word he spat out as if releasing the heat he had been holding back.
Edgar wrapped his arms around Olivia's waist, and the woman placed her hands on his shoulders.
At that moment, Edgar tilted his head to the side, obscuring the woman's face. As a flustered Olivia tried to push Edgar away, he whispered in her ear.
"Would you like to go with me tomorrow?"
After the secret whisper, a flash of light burst with a 'pop!' sound.
Olivia's startled face turned toward the sound, and once again, a silver flash went off, and at the same time, loud booms echoed above their heads.
Gorgeous roses were blooming in the spring night sky.
***
The tabloid in the hands of Yohan's maternal grandmother, Margaret, was crumpled fiercely.
It was a scene of an obvious secret rendezvous that anyone could see. Yohan Leopold thought so too.
The Marquess Margaret Wellington's birthday party was famous for being grand every year.
She was spending her old age with the pleasure of gathering all the socialites on her birthday to show off her good health.
But on this significant seventieth birthday, the main character was, absurdly, someone else.
「Edgar's Rose, a Hot Secret Rendezvous with the Former Duchess Leopold」
"This, this outrageous..."
The phrases were sensational. The accompanying photos were also enough to grab people's attention.
The woman's face, passionately kissing in the man's arms while even standing on tiptoe, was obscured by Edgar, enough to arouse curiosity, but no one was actually curious.
Anne Gilbert.
Everyone who attended the ball that day knew who the woman wearing that famous necklace was.
Newspapers quickly created plausible pictures based on the statements of witnesses, adding their own base imaginations, and the third-rate romance novel was featured prominently in the bored Londes gossip magazines in less than half a day.
Thud. The hand that folded the newspaper in half and placed it on the table was fierce.
"That's why I was against it. I told her that a person's roots are important. What a disgrace. I've lived too long."
Yohan just listened silently.
"How long has it been since the divorce? To do this, to do this. How dare she."
"It's the era of free love, Grandmother. What's wrong with dating after a divorce? She's better than my mother. Isn't that right, Brother?"
Instead of answering, Yohan lightly shook his wrist and glanced at the watch with delicate gold trim.
"That's the problem too. Men and women are free to associate. Young ladies give their hearts too easily. They don't know how shallowly the other person is taking it."
The Duchess clicked her tongue.
"Although times have changed, you must remember that the essence does not change. No matter how popular free love is, it is the woman who is hit when it does not lead to marriage. You can see that just by looking at Elena."
Elena Blanchett. Olivia's mother.
Yohan's plan to show his face to the elders of the family and leave the banquet hall was ruined by the scandal caused by his ex-wife.
"Young women don't go around alone without maids, they're in the same space as men to attend lectures, and they go to dance outrageous dances."
"It's tango, Grandmother."
Florin said with a smile. Yohan raised his weary gaze and stared at the brandy glass. The ice had already melted.
"What it is doesn't matter. When I was a virgin, I only danced the waltz in front of my parents. A woman must be well-mannered. Look at Josephine. I've never seen her dance anything other than the quadrille. How chaste she is. It's amazing that there is such a lady in this day and age. I had marked her as Yohan's partner a long time ago. This is an opportunity."
The Marquess Margaret stared at Yohan with a solemn gaze. The nagging that had been quiet for three years was signaling its beginning. It was also a moment when he felt the absence of his wife.
"It must have been fate, Grandmother."
Florin took Josephine's side, who was her friend.
"I guarantee Miss Josephine. She is a lady who is perfect as a Duchess. Her piano skills are probably the best among the ladies of Londes. My ears are accurate. Even with that skill, she doesn't neglect practice. Singing, painting. There's nothing she can't do. Yohan."
"That child's embroidery skills are also excellent. She attended the party today-."
When Yohan stood up, the Margaret sisters stopped talking and glared at Yohan all at once.
"Yohan!"
"Let's hear the rest next year on your birthday. Stay healthy, Grandmother."
Yohan approached Margaret, bent over, lightly kissed her on the cheek, and politely greeted the noblewomen. Behind Yohan, the old women's scolding could be heard.
"At twenty-eight, you should have had two children. Yohan."
"Young people think spring will last forever. Then they regret it. Yohan! Spring is over in the blink of an eye!"
Tsk tsk tsk. The sound of clicking tongues that seemed to make the ground sink was no longer heard when the lounge door closed.
Yohan strode across the hallway with wide steps. The faint smile he had shown for formality was long gone. Unlike his indifferent expression, the knuckles revealed on his clenched fist were white.
Olivia Blanchett.
As he repeated the name of the woman who had been his wife, the anger he had sunk into the abyss began to stir. It was an emotion he had never felt when they were living together. Was it because the target was Edgar?
Yohan, lost in thought, was about to pass in front of the terrace. Unwelcome people surrounded him as if to encircle him. Yohan slowly stopped walking.
It would be nice if they had some sense.
There were many fools who were eager to cut down Yohan, who had become the new Duke Leopold despite being the third son of the Duke of Edinburgh. Close relatives, for example.
The characteristic of these types was that they had no sense or shame.
"Your ex-wife is quite famous in Britta."
Unwelcome attention was annoyingly clinging to him. It was as natural as breathing, and he had forgotten the benefits of marriage. He had to admit that his married life had been somewhat convenient.
"We'll have to wait and see if she'll become the Duchess Lancelot. How do you feel? The photo was attractive."
Yohan's expression toward his swaggering cousin was cold.
"When did you two become like that?"
"Surely she wasn't doing that while sharing a bed with you?"
Yohan slowly closed his eyes and then glared at his cousin.
"Why don't you ask her yourself?"
"Loosen up, Yohan. On a good day like today. Still, it's a relief you divorced before getting backstabbed. You almost gave Grandmother a cuckoo's chick as a great-grandson- Ugh!"
Yohan threw a punch.
