Ch#82
Ch#82
Ch#82
~Chapter 82~
“Why not? You want it too.” Cedric whispered in a low, languid voice. His eyes were clouded with desire.
There was a seductive slowness in his tone, and Harriet nearly lost all sense of reality under its pull. His hazy gaze, his heavy breaths, the heat simmering between them—it was all overwhelming.
People often say first kisses are clumsy or awkward.
But this? Not at all.
It was intensely thrilling.
Perfect, even.
A part of her wanted to surrender to the moment, pretend it wasn’t a mistake, and follow Cedric’s dangerous rhythm.
But then—footsteps approached.
They were very close now. Too close.
The last thread of Harriet’s rationality clung to that sound like a lifeline.
“People are coming!” she whispered breathlessly, struggling to keep her voice down as her heart pounded in terror.
Was it the embarrassment in her voice, or had the kiss cooled Cedric’s fevered head somewhat? Either way, he stopped.
He seemed to finally become aware of his surroundings again, slowly moving his eyes.
Something’s wrong. He thought vaguely.
Harriet’s body was arching away from him, barely holding back her tension.
Still draped in the shawl that covered both their heads, she gripped the lace fabric with one hand to keep it from slipping and pushed against his chest with the other.
Cedric realized he had been leaning over her almost aggressively, close enough to bend her waist backward.
And right then, it flashed through his mind just how absurd this must look.
How humiliating.
What the hell am I doing?
His thoughts were murky, like grasping for air underwater. Nothing made sense.
As he struggled to gather them, the only words that escaped his lips were a confused “Why…?”
Doubts flooded his mind. What happened? Why am I here? Why am I clinging to Harriet like some drunken fool?
He blinked and slowly lifted his head, peering out through a small gap in the shawl.
A group of men were milling about nearby.
In a noble gathering like this, it was common sense not to disturb private moments in a dark garden. But these men didn’t leave. Instead, they were searching the area thoroughly, as if looking for someone.
“Don’t say a word,” Harriet whispered suddenly. “I’ll handle it.”
Before Cedric could respond, Harriet slipped out from under the shawl, straightened her back, and turned around with a sharp tone.
She snapped at the men wandering nearby in an irritated voice. “Why are you all lingering around here? Don’t you have anywhere else to be?”
The men realized she was Harriet Listerwell and looked startled. One of them glanced at what seemed to be their leader.
He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Ah, well… Have you perhaps seen Duke Kailas—Cedric—come this way?”
“Who?” Harriet asked blankly.
“Duke Cedric, miss. We’re looking for him since we heard he came this direction.”
Harriet raised one eyebrow and crossed her arms. “I wouldn’t know if he passed through here. But a gentleman like him would surely have the courtesy to pass quietly, unlike some ill-mannered folks.”
Her sharp words seemed to deflate the man a bit. He scratched the back of his head and smiled awkwardly.
“I see. Sorry to bother you. It’s just… we were trying to locate the Duke since he’s gone missing.”
“Look somewhere else,” Harriet said coldly. “I have plenty to do here with my prince.”
“Haha… Right. Excuse us, miss.”
They bowed a few more times, cast lingering glances, and finally moved away. One of them kept turning back to try peering under the shawl, but the lace and darkness made it impossible to identify anyone.
Once they were gone, Harriet clicked her tongue in annoyance and slid back under the shawl.
The air inside was warm and enclosed. The outside world blurred into the distance. She stayed still in an embrace-like pose with Cedric until the last footsteps faded.
A cool night breeze seeped in.
Harriet swallowed hard.
She slowly pulled away from him, lifted the shawl, and finally, they were exposed to the night air again.
“Um… Are you okay?” she asked hesitantly.
It wasn’t the most appropriate thing to say given the situation. But she had to say something.
Cedric didn’t answer right away. But his eyes no longer looked completely dazed. His vision was starting to clear—though his lips still twitched as if wanting to say something.
He looked like he was fighting through the fog in his mind.
Harriet cautiously reached out and straightened his disheveled collar.
“Did you… take something?” she asked softly.
He blinked at her. “What…?”
“I mean your behavior. You don’t seem just normally drunk. And there’s hardly any alcohol on your breath.”
Cedric’s pupils wavered again. He looked confused, but perhaps starting to understand.
Harriet reached out again, gently smoothing the hair that had been mussed when she’d covered them with the shawl.
“Do you know those people who just came? They were looking for you, but it didn’t seem like they were worried. One of them might even know you’re drugged.”
Something shifted behind Cedric’s eyes. Her words cut through the fog like a blade.
Fragments of memory began returning one by one.
Champagne. Sudden heat. The strange sensation on his skin. A woman with red lips. The scent of winter roses. Vanishing pink skirts. Harriet’s voice. Her lips. A kiss. And another kiss.
What the hell did I do…?
Realization crashed over him. His stomach dropped.
He wished it was all a dream—a bizarre, wild delusion. But the woman in front of him, brushing dust off his coat, reminded him it was stark reality.
“Do you know him?” Harriet asked again, studying him.
He squeezed his eyes shut. Shame surged like a tidal wave.
“…Albert Kingsley.”
“What?”
“My cousin.” Cedric spat bitterly.
Harriet’s mouth fell open in shock, and she couldn’t speak for a moment.
But Cedric had grown strangely calm. That one name explained everything.
So he drugged me… to humiliate me in front of everyone?
He could only manage a bitter smile.
“That bastard’s been interested in pharmaceuticals lately,” Cedric muttered. “And now he’s using his ‘product’ for this disgusting prank.”
Harriet’s eyes widened in realization.
“Wait… Does that company produce a drug called Angelique?”
“Something like that,” Cedric said with utter disgust.
“So you think he slipped it into your drink?”
“Most likely.”
She blinked as she pieced it together.
“That’s what people were whispering about all night. I heard it’s used for mood enhancement. It helps with depression, but—mostly, um… for lewd purposes.”
Cedric nodded grimly.
Now that the pieces fit, he was certain.
Still, the drug’s effects hadn’t fully worn off. His blood ran hot. Every time his gaze drifted to Harriet’s face, his heart raced faster. Her lips. Her throat. Even when he looked away, his body kept reacting.
Harriet noticed the change in his expression and lightly patted his cheek.
“Listen to me,” she said firmly. “Stay hidden here. I’ll go get Edgar Dawson.”
She gently pushed him toward the bushes behind the arbor and hurried off toward the ballroom.
No! Harriet, wait. Don’t call Edgar. Anyone but him. He’ll tease me about this forever!
He wanted to shout it. Beg her not to bring Edgar. But the words stuck in his throat.
Drained, he slumped to the ground. His head spun. His limbs felt heavy. He clenched his fists to clear his mind.
Moments later, a shadow fell over him. He opened his eyes to find Edgar kneeling in front of him.
“You okay, Cedric?”
“…Edgar? You got here fast…”
Uncharacteristically, Edgar looked pale and worried.
“How long have you been like this?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” Harriet answered. She had already returned and was standing behind him. “He was already like this when I found him.”
“And Albert Kingsley came looking for him?”
“Yes. I didn’t know who, but Cedric said he’s his cousin.”
Cedric didn’t like how naturally Harriet and Edgar conversed. Back in the ballroom, she’d smiled at Edgar too. Did she like him?
Edgar was too kind. Too charming. The type women always flocked to. Cedric hated to admit it—but the thought twisted his gut.
When Edgar helped him up, Cedric let him, though it annoyed him more than comforted him.
Then Harriet looked at Cedric and said, “If you’re not planning to spend the night with anyone, drink lots of water and go to the bathroom. And no more alcohol—it’ll make the drug’s effects stronger.”
With that, she gave Edgar a polite nod and turned to leave.
Cedric could only watch as the woman who had saved him—the one leaving a lingering image like soft pink petals—walked away without looking back.
Later, Edgar sat beside Cedric, who was gulping water like a dying man.
“Albert… that bastard’s bolder than I thought,” Edgar muttered.
“Slipping you drugs at a public party like this… and then searching for you in front of everyone?”
“Must’ve been when those idiots came to ‘greet’ me,” Cedric said flatly. “He probably spiked my champagne. Insisted on a toast, too.”
“You’re sure it’s Angelique?”
Cedric nodded grimly. “Now I am.”
