Chapter 13
“I’m not sure. I can hardly venture an opinion on someone I interacted with for three minutes at most.”
“Three minutes? Does that mean you didn’t even dance with the Duke?”
“Regrettably, that fortune was not mine, Mrs. Selma. The Duke had many other guests to attend to besides myself.”
Rosalyn did not mention that being able to speak with the Duke for even three minutes was considered lucky enough. She did not enjoy inviting the fuss and admiration of others for no reason.
“Oh, what a shame. If only you had danced, the two of you might have fallen in love. It’s always like that in the novels I read. A dance between two people is just so romantic, isn’t it?”
“Then I shall have to learn to dance soon as well. For your information, the partner is of utmost importance in social dancing.”
“Are you a good partner, Alfred?”
“Based on the evaluations I’ve received over the years, I’d say I’m not half bad.”
“My goodness, is there nothing you can’t do, Alfred!”
With that, the lovers’ time began again, and Rosalyn quietly lifted her teacup to hide her mouth.
As a noble lady, she was not entirely without experience interacting with men. Since her debut into society at the age of eighteen, she had frequented social gatherings of all sizes like everyone else.
Her heart had fluttered when a particularly dashing man asked for a dance, and on such days, she would lie in bed after returning home, reminiscing about the touch of a large hand or a low voice. So, while it had been a very long time, what she experienced this time was not a first.
‘I am Gerard Glenn.’
She had told Mrs. Selma it was three minutes, but in reality, the time Rosalyn spent facing the Duke was likely shorter. Perhaps it hadn’t even been two minutes. Nevertheless, every scene remaining in her memory of that day was related to the Duke.
Since she hadn’t danced with him, there was nothing else to dwell on. She knew nothing of the touch of his hand, the strength of his grip around her waist, or the feeling of moving their bodies in sync. That night, Rosalyn had looked toward the Duke from afar a few more times, but he remained surrounded by people and never once cast a glance her way.
At the banquet, Rosalyn had spoken with more than twenty men and danced with six or seven. They were all gentlemanly and polite, and some were quite likable. Yet, she could barely remember their faces, let alone what they had talked about. It was as if the afterimage of one man had eclipsed everyone else.
‘Out of respect for both parents.’
The Duke of Windburg had overwhelmed Rosalyn throughout that entire night. He had kept her tossing and turning all night at her aunt’s house after the banquet. Even now, two days after returning home, he crossed her mind at every turn.
Come to think of it, this was a first for her as well—to be so lingeringly influenced by someone.
Knock, knock. It was then that the butler opened the drawing-room door and entered.
“My Lord. Someone has arrived from the Duke of Windburg’s estate.”
“From the Duke’s estate?”
“Yes. He says he has brought a letter for Miss Rosalyn.”
At the butler’s words, Alfred Fairfield raised his eyebrows. He then turned to look at his daughter’s face along with Mrs. Selma. Rosalyn could give no answer to their gazes, for she was just as bewildered as they were.
“Show him in.”
As soon as the Viscount gave his permission, the man waiting outside entered. The man who appeared with steady footsteps was young and tall; he was smartly dressed in a black jacket and white shirt, carrying a small oval silver tray.
Seeing the three people seated in the drawing room, he approached Rosalyn without hesitation. He was a servant perfectly trained in posture, stride, and walking speed.
“Dowager Duchess Diane has invited Miss Rosaline Eleanor Fairfield to Maxville.”
With practiced formality, he bowed and presented the silver tray. A white envelope lay upon the gleaming silver. After staring at the unsealed exterior for a moment, Rosalyn picked up the envelope, took out the contents, and unfolded them.
The message was simple. An invitation to a tea party at the mansion in two days. Below the brief text was the host’s signature.
Diane El Windburg.
The title ‘El’ was a courtesy used for the four great lords during the kingdom era, and it is now used as an official title for those holding a dukedom and their spouses. Rosalyn lingered a moment longer on the elegant lady’s handwriting before folding the letter and looking up.
“Thank you. Please tell her I shall attend with pleasure.”
“Of course, Miss.”
After the butler and the Duke’s servant withdrew, only the three of them remained in the drawing room. No one spoke until Rosalyn put the invitation back into the envelope and placed it beside her teacup on the tea table. It was Viscount Andover who broke the strange tension.
“Tell me, Rose. Do I need to prepare myself to become the Dowager Duchess’s in-law?”
Rosalyn replied with a casual smile.
“It’s just a tea party, Father.”
“Then will others be there as well?”
“A tea party requires at least three people. It means someone other than the Dowager Duchess and myself will be present.”
“Wouldn’t that be three people if you include the Duke?”
“Mrs. Selma. In social events, the person with the highest status is the host. If the Duke were attending a tea party at Maxville, the invitation would have come from the Duke, not the Dowager Duchess.”
“Ah, I see.”
Rosalyn did not lose her patience while explaining the most basic of social etiquettes. It seemed the future Viscountess had so much to learn that Andreana might even have to teach her, but right now, she didn’t even feel despair over that.
Aside from her disbelief that the Dowager Duchess had sent her an invitation, Rosalyn was not ignorant of what this meant.
“I should send a telegram to Elwood.”
“No, Father. The date is too close. I don’t want to trouble Aunt, either.”
“Then you mean to go to Maxville alone from here?”
“I can take the train. It’s easy to catch a chartered carriage at Windburg Station.”
“I really should have bought an automobile. What did I tell you, Rose? Didn’t I say an automobile would be useful?”
“A carriage is quite enough, Father.”
Rosalyn burst into a laugh.
The Viscount gazed silently at his daughter’s face. It was not sophisticated behavior for an uninvited man to tag along to a women’s social event. If his wife were still alive, she would have gone with her.
“Take a maid to attend you.”
“Of course.”
Nodding, Rosalyn picked up her teacup again. She tried to appear nonchalant, but she couldn’t stop her heart from racing.
What should she wear? Who else would be there? How did the Dowager Duchess see her?
Why her? Why out of all those ladies? Why her, bypassing the daughters of dukes, marquises, and earls?
Out of pure curiosity, Rosalyn pondered it. However, since the reason for the selection lay within the mind of the one who chose, the one chosen could never know no matter how much they wondered. The only thoughts she could have now were about what lay ahead, but those, too, were shrouded in mist.
How could one know the future? It was useless to dwell on it.
Gerard was in his third-floor study when the Dowager Duchess’s tea party began. He paid no attention even as the women arrived one after another. This mansion was a place where guests were rarely absent to begin with. Even now, guests who had come for the ball were still staying.
Gerard had been reading a thick law book for three hours. On his desk were stacks of family law codes, commentaries, and casebooks. Though he had finished law school and worked as a lawyer for years, he knew almost nothing about family law.
His father, Philip Glenn, the 11th Duke of Windburg, was the owner of a steel company that controlled steel mills, shipyards, railway operators, and mines. He was also a businessman who had started department store and hotel businesses in line with the times.
The man, the second wealthiest in the empire, had three sons, and it had been decided that the eldest, Herald, would inherit the entire fortune. The second, Marcus, had chosen a military career early on.
The third, Gerard, had entered law school and majored in commercial law. The reason he, who liked conversation but never enjoyed arguing, became a lawyer was simple: he needed to occupy a more useful position in his brother’s company.
Sons other than the heir of a noble family must find their own place. When he was young, Gerard thought it was very unfair. But as he grew older and experienced the wider world outside Maxville—especially after entering the university in the capital, Isen—he changed his mind.
‘Is there any greater blessing than being born the third son of a noble?’
‘Be careful, brother. If someone else hears you, they’ll think you’re mocking your poor younger brother.’
An heir has no freedom to choose his own life. Protecting what he has inherited is his life. He succeeds to rights and duties simultaneously, but even those rights are merely a means to fulfill the duties.
‘You’ll understand soon enough. Because you’ll be sharing my burden.’
Gerard Glenn, the 13th Duke of Windburg, now understood that all too well.
