Ch#54
This time, too, Rosalyn could read nothing from his calm demeanor and expression. In Jared’s eyes, there was no trace of sentiment regarding the fact that the past four Tuesdays had yielded no results, nor that the same process would have to be repeated next month.
Hiding one’s inner thoughts was the most basic etiquette of the nobility, but this man’s composure did not seem like something desperately feigned, as hers was.
Jared Glenn was a cold and decisive man. Therefore, the vulnerability she thought she’d seen in his eyes that Tuesday night must have been a mere illusion—or perhaps a scene her own expectations had selfishly distorted.
‘Because I only feel certain about thoughts that will never change.’
He was a strong person. He would never feel frustrated or helpless. Such weak emotions were for people like Rosalyn, not for the Duke of Windberg.
A strong man. A man who lacked nothing. A man who did not desire anyone’s interest or affection.
Rosalyn was frustrated and helpless because she was not that kind of person. Even while sitting across from her husband and pretending to be unbothered, she was struggling to steady her wavering heart. Yet, the harder she tried not to resent him or feel hurt, the more desolate her heart became.
Fighting her lonely battle, she followed her husband’s lead and lifted her teacup. Swallowing a sip of the lukewarm tea, she tried to enjoy its taste and aroma. Coldly and decisively. Like a true noblewoman.
‘You seem to be excessively emotional, Rosalyn.’
A Duchess should not be that way. The higher one’s status, the more one had to hide their weaknesses. If one could not suppress all their emotions, they should at least avoid getting caught.
“Is the Director not home yet?”
“Yes, Madam. He has not returned yet.”
The maid who answered politely did not look the least bit apologetic. She had grown accustomed to the master of the house frequently staying out, but more importantly, she was careful not to provoke her mistress’s temper. Showing even a hint of pity for a woman with a philandering husband was a quick way to lose one’s job.
“I see. You may go.”
“Yes, Madam.”
After the maid withdrew, Naomi Glenn let out a light sigh.
Alexander was currently in the middle of a passionate affair. Last year, he had fallen for a third-rate dancer and showered her with jewels; this year, he seemed to be frequenting the home of a young widow.
Does he plan to sleep at that woman’s house again tonight? Surely he’ll come home tomorrow. The next day is August 1st.
In the North, summer was said to be a good season for families to spend together. Naomi didn’t know who had attached such a trivial meaning to the season, but every year on the first of August, the Glenn family held a gathering at Maxville.
It was called the Family Concert.
Being born into the same family didn’t guarantee an invitation to the Duke-hosted concert. Only those within six degrees of kinship to the Duke who still bore the name Glenn—excluding married daughters—could attend. Children over fifteen were allowed to attend the concert itself, while younger children requiring nannies were left to play among themselves.
Since Naomi’s two sons were not yet ten, they would spend their time in the playroom, but making good memories with cousins their own age was meaningful in many ways. These children were third and fourth in the line of succession. There was a significant possibility they could one day become the heirs to Maxville.
“Mama. Is Grandma coming to the concert too?”
At her son’s question, Naomi turned her head. Her six-year-old second son, Edward, was looking up at her. As usual, Naomi was spending time with her children before dinner. Like a devoted mother.
“Of course, Grandma will be there. Grandpa too.”
“Philip too? And Henrietta? George and Generis?”
“Yes. You’ll see them all. You’ll have a wonderful time playing, my son.”
Naomi stroked her son’s hair with a gentle smile. Her nine-year-old eldest son sat dignified, reading a book on his own.
Healthy, handsome, and even smart. She had given him two such sons, yet their father was off doing who-knows-what.
Alexander hadn’t touched his wife since the birth of their second child. It was as if he’d done his duty and retired early. When they first married, they were young and attracted to each other’s bodies, but that kind of passion hadn’t lasted long.
Naomi wasn’t without her own outlets for passion outside of her husband. While many men couldn’t stand the thought of their wives doing what they did with their mistresses, there were just as many who turned a blind eye to their wives’ affairs rather than deal with nagging and annoyance.
Alexander was the latter; as long as it didn’t catch the public eye, he ignored her discreet dalliances. However, even with mutual tacit approval, there was a limit to how far things could go.
As a legal wife and the daughter of a nobleman, Naomi Glenn had the right to crush anyone who threatened her pride. Furthermore, she was the Duke’s cousin-in-law and the most likely candidate for the next Duchess.
Or she had been, until two months ago.
‘I must have been crazy. What was I thinking, introducing a woman to him? I didn’t think he’d ever take an interest in a Baron’s daughter, but he really has no taste in women.’
Naomi had believed that position would one day be hers. Because the Duke had so adamantly refused to marry, that future had felt almost within her grasp. She had slowly begun to believe the whispers of the people: that the Duke of Windberg was a man who would never take a wife as long as he lived.
So, how joyous it should have been. All she had to do was wait patiently to become the Duchess, and eventually, the Dowager Duchess after her husband passed.
But last month, the Duke’s sudden marriage had shattered all those dreams.
‘There is no law stating the new Duchess must give birth to an heir.’
Was that marriage truly just a facade?
That was Naomi’s only remaining hope, but there was no way to discover his true intentions. Even when she asked Alexander, he only offered guesses and no clear answers. There was only one person who knew for sure if the Duke was leading a normal married life: his wife.
The Duchess of Windberg.
Lately, that woman was the one wounding Naomi Glenn’s pride the most. The woman who had suddenly snatched the position Naomi had coveted for years.
The sight of her acting as the mistress of Maxville as if it were the most natural thing in the world… Naomi felt sick with resentment every time she saw the new Duchess.
‘The woman Duke Jared intended to marry was a novelist?’
Those were the words Naomi had said in feigned surprise to her mother-in-law. How should she go about hinting at that fact?
Naomi Glenn had the right to crush anyone who touched her pride. Living as the wife of a man like Alexander, she had become an expert in dealing with a husband’s mistresses. And it was always better to handle such matters through the hands of others rather than getting personally involved. Elegantly and safely.
Who would be best?
“Madam. The Director has arrived.”
When the maid entered to announce her husband’s return, Naomi looked up. Then, with a smile as if she had expected it—or as if it were only natural—she rose from the couch.
“He’s a bit late. Is dinner ready? He’ll be hungry after working so late.”
“Yes, Madam. You may go down now.”
“Thank you, Daisy.”
She exited the playroom with grace. Leaving her beloved children with the nanny, she headed downstairs to enjoy dinner with her hardworking husband. For a rare moment, this townhouse where the family of four lived was overflowing with familial love.
Summer was indeed a good season for families to spend together.
“Then I can go to the concert too?”
“Yes. Since it’s a family event, they say you can attend from age fifteen.”
“And you’ll be my chaperone, sister?”
“I have to be. I thought I wouldn’t be doing this for another two years.”
Rosalyn laughed softly as she answered.
Jared had told her she could bring her younger sister to the family concert being held in two days. Although Andreana was still a minor and couldn’t enjoy dancing or drinking, it would be a good opportunity for her to watch and learn how the adults socialized.
The sisters lay side by side on the bed. The bed in the well-appointed guest room was large enough for the two of them to have plenty of space. Andreana had been delighted when Rosalyn came to sleep with her, saying she had wanted to sleep with her sister since the first day she arrived.
It seemed her younger sister had been quite lonely since the wedding. Had she been feeling that way deep down, even while acting as if nothing were wrong in front of others? Seeing Andreana finally reveal her inner thoughts, Rosalyn felt a simultaneous surge of guilt and helplessness.
After all, she was the one who had taught her she must always hide her true feelings and act composed.
But Rosalyn had been taught the same way, and she had simply passed on what she knew. In reality, it was a vital skill for a lady. Was it not the very foundation of noble dignity to hide inappropriate emotions and present a desirable front?
“Sister. There’s something I’m curious about.”
“What is it?”
“Are you happy being married?”
Thanks to her training, Rosalyn was able to avoid being flustered by such a question. She could maintain her composure and answer in the most proper manner. It was all thanks to the poise she had honed for over a decade.
“Of course.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Liar.”
But when the other person was too direct, even Rosalyn found herself a little caught off guard.
