Chapter 6
“I have no idea why Erica likes that author so much. She was even disappointed to find out the author is a woman! Can you believe a married woman with a child would fawn over a novelist like that? She is my own daughter, but really…”
“It sounds just like Erica. Her husband is a writer too, after all.”
“He is a playwright.”
The Baroness drew a firm line, her expression sobering. It was an understandable reaction. Novels—especially mysteries or romances—were treated as vastly inferior to noble plays, poetry, or philosophical texts. In the libraries of aristocrats who valued dignity and reputation above all else, a mere novel could never find a place.
“Not only did a woman publish a book under a man’s name… Well, I suppose there’s always a sordid story behind such things.”
At her aunt’s sigh and condemnation, Rosalyn felt a spark of awkwardness. She didn’t know whether to pretend she was ignorant of the matter or admit she knew.
The article had appeared in the newspaper a week ago. The gist was that a famous thriller novelist was actually a woman and was in an illicit relationship with the man who published her books. The author was popular enough on her own, but the scandal had set high society ablaze because of the man’s status. He was a nobleman from the Kingdom of Lytton across the sea and was said to be the Empress’s maternal uncle.
“That young woman is certainly something. The Empress’s uncle must be quite old.”
Rosalyn had been shocked when she read the article as well. However, she had been secretly pleased to learn the author was a woman. It had given her a strange sense of pride. Because of that, she hoped the rumors in the article weren’t true. After all, scandals of that nature were a terrible stain on a woman’s honor.
In truth, Rosalyn had read both books written by that author. As soon as she bought them from the bookstore, she had stayed up all night devouring them before hiding them away in a drawer in the greenhouse. It would hardly do for her reputation if Victor or Andreana discovered them.
Indulging in novels was a delight, but it was unladylike. It was her secret pleasure.
“At any rate, she is clearly a talented writer. Her books have sold so many copies. I heard they couldn’t even keep them in stock in Litton.”
“Hmph. No matter how many people seek her out, a harlot is still a harlot.”
The biting remark made Rosalyn feel a sudden chill. She knew it was just a figure of speech, but she couldn’t help the slight freezing sensation in her chest.
The carriage finally moved through the congested road and arrived in front of the department store. Rosalyn gazed at the massive building through the window. A place where all the world’s goods were gathered. It really is enormous, she marveled to herself, looking up at the facade of the department store that she couldn’t even capture in a single glance.
“Oh, Rose. Look over there.”
It was then that the Baroness whispered.
“It’s the Duke of Windburg.”
Following her gaze, Rosalyn spotted a black automobile. A group of people stood beside the large, unfamiliar object. Rosalyn immediately identified the person her aunt was pointing out.
It was impossible not to know him. His photograph appeared in the newspapers often enough.
The Duke of Windburg had become a public figure three years ago when he inherited the title. Born as the third son of a duke, he had been far from the line of succession, but he had suddenly become the head of the family after a tragic accident.
It was a fact known to everyone in the empire that he was originally a lawyer and that his two older brothers had lost their lives simultaneously in an unfortunate accident. Thus, this Duke was perhaps the most widely recognized name among the living nobility. Rosalyn knew his name as well.
Jared El Windburg.
“A handsome man is a handsome man. Look at that jawline and his curls. Isn’t it classic?”
Rosalyn watched him as she listened to her aunt’s murmurs. They were inside the carriage, and the distance was close enough. It allowed her to observe the Duke while remaining properly hidden.
His hair was as black as ink. The soft curls were neatly groomed. His thick eyebrows, angular jaw, and the faint cleft in his chin gave him a strong impression. If he hadn’t been clean-shaven, he might have looked a bit intimidating.
The Duke’s face certainly possessed a classical beauty. He looked like someone who belonged in an old oil painting—a portrait of a prince or a knight. Even his modern attire—the perfectly fitted coat, the shoes, and the crisp white shirt collar—looked dignified on him.
Perhaps that impression was merely a construct of Rosalyn’s imagination, born from the fact that she already knew his status.
The Duke of Windburg. He was the master of the North. Both in the traditional sense and from a metaphorical perspective.
“So he visits the department store too. Well, I suppose it is his company.”
The Duke’s business interests spanned many fields. Rosalyn knew that this department store was one of them. Following the steel industry, the distribution industry was now part of the Glenn family’s empire.
“I wonder who that lady with him is? I’ve never seen her face before.”
“Perhaps a relative or an acquaintance?”
“They seem quite close.”
“I suppose she is a close friend, then.”
Maintaining a neutral tone, Rosalyn looked at the lady accompanying the Duke. Her manner as she accepted the Duke’s escort was very natural. Her clothing was high-end, and above all, she looked older than the Duke. While he could have been dating an older woman, they didn’t have the air of lovers.
The air of lovers. As if you would know what that feels like.
Rosalyn felt a bit embarrassed by her own thoughts and let out a small, private smile.
“Oh, so that man is the aide.”
“An aide?”
“Yes. That young man over there. There’s a rumor, you see…”
The Baroness trailed off. She hesitated, as if she realized she had spoken out of turn, then added, “No, never mind. Forget I said anything.”
“Please tell me, Aunt. I’m curious.”
“Goodness, the things I end up saying.”
Though she looked embarrassed, the Baroness ultimately could not overcome her urge to gossip.
“There’s a rumor that the Duke is involved with men.”
“Pardon?”
“They say it’s because he has a certain… problem that prevents him from being near women.”
A problem that prevented him from being near women. Rosalyn didn’t immediately understand what kind of problem that was. However, based on her experience of reading various books—including those forbidden to ladies—she was soon able to make a vague guess.
So, it was either a ‘physical’ issue with his fertility or a ‘psychological’ preference for his own gender.
My goodness. Both possibilities were equally shocking, leaving her momentarily speechless.
“It makes sense. Why else would he still be unmarried? It’s been over three years since he became the Duke. There must be a problem. Yes, definitely a problem.”
The Baroness laid out her argument with great confidence.
“They say it was like that even before he inherited. Even now, he supposedly doesn’t even speak to women. It’s said the Dowager Duchess is so ashamed that she hasn’t appeared in society for years.”
Then, with a look of profound pity, she sighed toward the tall man outside the window.
“He is so handsome, though. What a waste.”
A brief, awkward silence fell over the carriage after the secret rumor was shared. Outside, the Duke was entirely unaware of their presence. He surely had no idea that a conversation severely damaging to his reputation had just taken place.
Accompanied by his suspicious aide and with the older woman on his arm, he was speaking with a middle-aged gentleman they seemed to have encountered by chance. After a brief exchange, the gentleman bowed in greeting, and the Duke nodded in return before heading toward the department store entrance with the woman. His upright posture, his stride, and his manners as he escorted the lady—everything appeared perfect.
Rosalyn watched the whole scene. She stole glances at the Duke’s face and his green eyes as he looked down at his conversation partner, peeking like a thief through the gap in the curtains.
All the while, the Duke naturally remained unaware of her. Not once did he look toward her or show any interest. He was in his kingdom, and Rosalyn was someone entirely detached from him. Perhaps it was the sense of relief brought by that fact that allowed her to observe him so boldly.
Someone who has nothing to do with me. Someone I will never be involved with or cross paths with.
“He is so handsome, though. What a waste.”
Rosalyn continued to watch the Duke until he turned his back and moved away, until he disappeared into the luxurious department store and was no longer in sight.
