Chapter 22
Jared looked down at the woman and spoke. At those words, which sounded like an ultimatum, Rosalyn felt a chill settle in her chest.
What are you doing, Rosalyn Fairfield? He might change his mind. He could call the whole thing off!
A sense of crisis screamed within her, but she did not open her mouth. She couldn’t bring herself to say that it was enough and to give her the ring. It was in that moment she realized what she truly wanted—what she wanted to hear.
Rosalyn wanted him to tell her. That he was drawn to her. That he felt he could fall in love with her. That it was because of those feelings that he wanted to marry her.
She knew it was an absurd hope. She knew it was hasty and indiscreet to speak of love already. But if they were to spend their lives together, shouldn’t they feel at least a spark of emotion for one another?
At the very least, wasn’t it reasonable to expect a hint that he found her charming, or an intimation that he could love her?
However, the Duke said nothing of the sort.
“Very well. Then I shall give you time to think.”
He merely offered a compromise, looking at her with a composed face.
“I will return in three days. If you intend to decline my proposal, send a telegram to Maxville. Will that suffice?”
When the Duke spoke in a somewhat softened tone, Rosalyn felt a simultaneous sense of disappointment and relief. Three days. It was an unexpected grace period, but she couldn’t refuse it. At the very least, it meant he respected her thoughts, and Rosalyn tried to find comfort in that.
“If Your Grace… would be so kind.”
“Let us do that, then.”
Nodding readily, the man pulled a watch from his frock coat pocket to check the time. She wondered if the ring was in the other pocket. Rosalyn felt pathetic for even thinking such a thing.
“Let us head back. It seems it is about time.”
“Yes. We can return the way we came.”
Pretending nothing was wrong, she forced a smile and turned around first. But her heart was pounding wildly with excitement and anxiety. It felt as though regret had already begun to set in.
What on earth have I done? How did I let things come to this?
The Duke kept pace with her, remaining two steps behind. He showed not a hint of displeasure at having his proposal put on hold, but there was no telling what he was thinking. Regardless, she couldn’t exactly ask for the ring now.
Three days. Rosalyn already knew that she, not the Duke, would be the one agonizing during that time.
She could only hope his heart wouldn’t change until then.
And if it did change, she would simply have to accept that he was never meant to be hers.
Rosalyn walked along the path, soothing her tumultuous heart. The late afternoon forest was devoid even of birdsong. The trees stood silent in the calm, windless weather. Only the shadows cast by the light filtering through the forest flickered soundlessly.
The banquet exceeded expectations. Most of the dishes were excellent, and the servants were skillful in their attendance. The banquet table was beautifully decorated with candlesticks, silver cutlery, and crystal glasses. It was a quintessentially noble dinner.
Jared reached for his wine glass and lifted his gaze. Since he was seated at the guest of honor’s seat at the end of the rectangular table, facing the head of the table, he could see all the attendees at a glance. The four children of the Fairfield family sat alternating by gender in order of seniority. From that sense of balance alone, they were already a perfect family.
“This flounder is our chef’s specialty. He won’t even tell me, his employer, the secret recipe, but the taste is truly the best. I hope it suits your palate.”
“It is excellent. I’m almost tempted to take the chef back to Maxville with me.”
“I shall tell him you sent your compliments. Excluding the latter part, of course.”
Responding to Viscount Andover’s banter with a laugh, Jared took a sip of wine.
The Viscount’s family seemed to have a great deal of affection for one another. Was the reason the Viscount hadn’t remarried in the thirteen years since his wife passed for the sake of his children? If so, he was a rare father figure indeed—especially in a noble society where marriage was viewed as a tool.
When Jared had arrived at the mansion by car earlier, he had seen the father and daughter whispering to each other as they waited at the entrance. He saw the woman burst into laughter at her father’s words. Looking at her face then, he had wondered what the Viscount could have said to make her laugh like that.
Since Jared had no sister, he knew nothing of the relationship between a father and daughter. He hadn’t closely observed the affection between brothers or sisters either, so the sight was almost foreign to him. A harmonious, love-filled, well-tended family unit. And at the center of it was the woman.
‘My wife passed away early, but Rosalyn filled the void.’
Was that why? The woman looked almost like a mother to her siblings. One could easily guess the nature of their relationship just by looking at how the younger siblings treated her. When he had heard the Viscount’s constant praise for his eldest daughter, he had thought it was purely intended to urge his proposal along, but observing them further, it didn’t seem to be entirely an act.
She was a woman who enjoyed the full trust of her family. Rosalyn Fairfield was.
‘Why me?’
So, another plausible reason had surfaced. A reason for choosing that woman. Because she was family-oriented and looked after her siblings so well that she would likely make a good mother later on.
I wonder if that would be enough to satisfy her. Even for the noble daughter of a Viscount.
‘I am sorry, but I do not quite understand why Your Grace chose me.’
At that moment, Jared had been truly flabbergasted. She had attended the ball specifically because she wanted to become the Duchess, and had gone to all sorts of lengths to catch his eye, even involving her aunt—and now she was claiming she didn’t understand? It was absurd. In his eyes, it looked like nothing more than a shallow attempt to salvage her pride at the last minute.
Now that she had actually secured the proposal, did she want to make him anxious? To think she was capable of such fox-like behavior.
‘You are asking me to give you a more plausible proposal, then.’
It was ridiculous for her to expect such a thing. They had only met twice before. Today was their third meeting, and the most time they had spent in close proximity. In such a situation, what kind of proposal words did she want? Did she want to hear a confession that he had fallen in love at first sight? That he was blinded by her beauty and elegance?
How laughable.
Jared lowered his wine glass with a wry smile. Hiding his cynicism behind a slight tilt of his head, he cast his gaze toward the woman sitting some distance away. Rosalyn Fairfield was sitting to the left of the head of the table, opposite him, with her father between them at the corner.
“So you mean to say you didn’t show the Duke the Fairy Waterfall?”
“It’s too far. We would have needed horses; it’s not somewhere you can just visit on a quick stroll.”
“It’s the most stunning place in the forest. You missed a chance to show off, Sister.”
“It is a pity, but I shall have to save it for next time. Provided, of course, that the Duke visits Andover again.”
The woman, who had been dealing with her younger brother, smoothly shifted the topic toward him. Following her gaze, everyone’s eyes turned toward the guest of honor. It was a gesture of consideration to ensure the guest wasn’t excluded from the conversation.
“I truly hope you will, Your Grace. The Fairy Waterfall is quite a sight to behold.”
“I see. It is a pity I missed it, but I believe there will be an opportunity to visit soon.”
“I’ll guide you myself then. It’ll be better than trying to keep pace with the ladies.”
“What was that, Brother Luke? That wasn’t very gentlemanly.”
“I don’t think I need to hear that from an undergrown lady.”
“You’re only seventeen too, you know!”
“I’ll be eighteen starting next month, kiddo.”
As the siblings bickered, the woman wore an exasperated expression and sent a small, apologetic smile his way. Facing that natural expression, Jared responded with an appropriate smile of his own.
She acted like a guest when she was a guest, and now that she was the host, she performed the role perfectly. She truly possessed the demeanor of a mistress of the house well-versed in social graces. Even that demeanor strangely grated on his nerves.
‘Appearance is like clothing. It is enough to be respectful.’
That woman was constantly bothersome. Even though she was dignified, cultured, and the very model of a noblewoman, there was something about her that piqued him.
No, perhaps that was exactly why he didn’t like her. Because she was the epitome of a noble daughter. A stiff young lady who was so innocent and upright that she seemed to live by the lessons found in a book of proverbs.
‘I do not believe anyone wishes to marry a fine set of clothes. Unless they possess vulgar tastes.’
He had complimented her on her beauty, only for her to turn around and practically accuse him of being vulgar.
Jared let out a short, dry laugh. He wondered if he would have to act like a saint to satisfy that woman. No. He would have to be a saint who had fallen passionately in love at first sight.
Jared gave a cynical smile and pierced a piece of the well-seasoned flounder with his fork.
