Previously
Eleanora reflects on her peaceful life as a beloved community doctor and her long-standing unrequited feelings for her childhood friend, Julian Thorne.
In the early evening, the Thorne family warmly welcomed Eleanora upon her arrival at their estate.
Mrs. Thorne guided Eleanora toward the dining room as she spoke, mentioning that Lord Blackwell would be staying for about five days before taking his leave.
( ‘Five days…’ )
If that were the case, he would probably meet the young lady once or twice at most.
‘Doesn’t that prove he has no intention of marrying in the first place?’
Without offering any comment, Eleanora stepped into the dining room.
The table had been set with painstaking elegance, yet the guest of honor, Lord Blackwell himself, had not arrived.
Julian, who had arrived ahead of her, stood up with a radiant smile.
Taking her seat, Eleanora hid her flush behind a composed expression.
Mrs. Thorne asked her son.
No sooner had Julian spoken than heavy footsteps echoed behind them.
The voice was low and deep.
Eleanora lifted her head and froze.
A hulking man filled the doorway, practically taking up the entire frame.
Julian was by no means short, but this man stood a full head taller.
Thick muscles showed through his shirt, and his sharp features gave him the commanding presence of a wild beast.
And that face…
( ‘He truly is handsome.’ )
Julian had not exaggerated in the slightest.
Yet her admiration was brief, quickly giving way to irritation. For an affair that was reasonably formal, his appearance was utterly disheveled.
He wore neither a jacket nor a waistcoat, and two or three buttons on his shirt were left undone.
Worse still, the closer he came, the more a sharp odor stung her nostrils…
( ‘Cigarette smoke.’ )
It was so pungent that one might think he had spent the entire day steeped in it.
Ignoring the startled glances passing between the Thornes, Killian pulled out a chair and sat heavily.
Mr. Thorne offered a tense smile, trying to read the mood.
Killian did not answer. He merely knit his brow and jutted his chin toward Eleanora.
Pointing with his chin. It was an outright slight.
The Thornes were struck dumb, but Eleanora, well aware of why she had been invited, kept her composure.
Julian hurried to introduce her.
Killian’s knife paused as he examined Eleanora’s face with unsettling scrutiny.
( ‘What is wrong with this man?’ )
Just as a question formed on her face, he lowered his head once more, indifferent.
Killian let out a derisive snort around his food.
Silence fell over the room.
Having raked his eyes over her from head to toe, he might as well have said her appearance was nothing worth admiring.
Seeing Julian’s distress, Eleanora offered him a reassuring glance before speaking in a calm voice.
Eleanora maintained a polite smile.
His knife and fork struck his plate with a sharp clatter. Cocking his head, Killian asked,
Eleanora’s brows twitched. It was a blatant insult.
Rather than losing her temper, she curled her hands into tight fists beneath the tablecloth.
Killian scoffed, the corner of his mouth twisting upward.
Eleanora had faced plenty of prejudice in her life, but never had she met such blunt, shameless contempt straight to her face.
Had it not been for Julian, she would have walked out that very instant.
Killian rested his chin on his hand, looking bored.
The back of Eleanora’s hand trembled. Killian fixed her with a look of pure disdain.
Eleanora kept her tone as level as possible. Killian let out a derisive snort.
The clatter of his knife and fork against the porcelain resumed.
As if he found no further value in speaking with her, he focused entirely on his plate.
Cut out of the conversation completely, Eleanora bit her lip hard.
After rushing through the rest of his meal, he set his fork aside and asked,
Mr. Thorne stammered, casting anxious glances toward Eleanora.
Killian dabbed his mouth with his napkin and pushed back his chair.
Without looking back, he strode out of the dining room.
Nothing remained at the table but a heavy, stifling silence.
Julian murmured, his face pale, while Mr. and Mrs. Thorne began offering Eleanora their apologies.
Eleanora forced a smile as if unbothered, though she was seething inside.
( ‘How can anyone be so utterly rude?’ )
It would be one thing to find a female doctor unusual. He might even have taken an immediate dislike to her for no reason at all.
Yet to behave like that as an invited guest went beyond all reason.
As for the match between him and Count Ashford’s daughter… she truly pitied the girl.
( ‘Who could ever put up with such a dreadful personality? Miss Ashford will never be able to endure it.’ )
Just two days later, her suspicions were confirmed by Vivian herself.
Vivian greeted her from the bed, looking like a tragic princess out of a fairy tale.
Vivian said, lightly tapping her chest.
Vivian sat up abruptly.
Eleanora listened as if hearing the news for the first time.
‘I was told Count Ashford’s daughter was here. Why is there a child instead?’
Eleanora’s mouth fell open.
Insulting her appearance at their very first meeting?
( ‘The smell makes me sick.’ )
Vivian pounded her pillow in frustration.
A stranger watching them would have assumed Killian owned the estate and Vivian was merely an unwelcome guest.
Vivian burst into tears like a little girl. Eleanora patted her shoulder, her thoughts racing.
( ‘What are you going to do, Julian…? This is hopeless.’ )
It was far worse than she had imagined.
Securing Baroness Blackwell’s help was now completely out of reach.
Hearing Vivian’s words, Eleanora slowly closed her eyes.
‘Julian… it really is over…’