Chapter 26
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 26
"If she's such a wonderful woman, you should take her as your wife, cousin."
"Morton's daughter? Me?"
His voice was laced with a strange self-deprecation. Theodore turned from the window to face his cousin, whose usual good-natured smile was conspicuously absent.
The object of Edgar's lingering gaze was that very woman—Hailey Morton, the brown-haired lady he had just recommended as a suitable match.
"Just think about it. A union like that would surely soften Grandmother's heart."
Pulling his eyes away from Hailey, Edgar offered a playful wink, his tone light and casual. It was a convincing performance, one that might have fooled Theodore completely had he not caught that fleeting, unguarded look. It was a rare blunder for Edgar to let the mask slip, even for a moment.
Theodore slowly traced the back of his finger over his dry lips. It wasn't hard to think of a reply that would needle his scheming cousin.
"She has a lovely neck."
"...I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear you say so. Well, I'll be in touch."
The response was almost instantaneous. Edgar’s expression smoothed over in a blink as he grabbed his bag and stepped down from the carriage. After a few paces, he spun around with a theatrical flourish, waved energetically, and strode back toward the young lady.
Whatever Edgar said to her made her face light up with a brilliant smile. She then turned toward the carriage, clutching her parasol, and sank into an elegant curtsy—as if she could see him right through the walls, despite the distance.
It was as if she knew he was watching. Clearly, her presence here was no coincidence. Beneath her shy, sparkling gaze lay an unmistakable gleam of ambition. Her face, which had briefly reminded him of Vanessa from afar, looked entirely different up close. How could he have mistaken her, even for a second? He let the curtain fall.
"Ah... mm..."
As the carriage interior dimmed, the fantasies that had run wild since he first glimpsed that pale neck—so much like Vanessa's—began to take a more concrete shape. Theodore took a slow, deep breath. It felt as though her sweet, intoxicating scent still clung to his skin. At times, he was struck by the illusion that he was still buried deep inside her.
Her tear-streaked face, her delicate, trembling movements, and those sweet, sobbing whimpers he could listen to forever. Just like now.
"Harder... please."
A voice, warped by his memory, gasped breathlessly. In truth, most of what Vanessa had gasped while they were tangled together were desperate pleas to go slower, to please stop and rest.
Yet the fantasy felt as vivid as reality. In his mind, she was swept up in an unquenchable desire, whimpering and begging, weeping and throwing herself into his arms with wanton abandon. He let out a heavy, languid breath and closed his eyes.
"Ah, Theodore... please..."
The soft arms wrapping eagerly around his neck, her fragrant embrace, and those wicked lips audaciously crying out his name. Theodore tilted his head back, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing slowly. A heavy, sudden rush of desire throbbed with a tight, aching pressure.
Yielding to his impulses had been immensely satisfying. He had a feeling that long after summer faded, he would find himself looking back on this town and his moments with her. It would linger like a scar or a fingerprint etched into his flesh—an indelible mark he would carry for the rest of his life.
The thought was not at all unpleasant.
* * *
By midsummer, the mornings had grown unbearably hot. The weather was fickle; skies that dawned crystal clear would bruise with clouds by afternoon, a thick fog would roll in at daybreak, and a light drizzle could turn into a torrential downpour without warning.
Mirroring the shifting season, the garden burst into life. Tiny peaches swelled on their branches and the heath bushes shot up waist-high overnight. Summer waterbirds from the river perched on the poplars, filling the air with sweet songs, while lilies of the valley, heavy with morning dew, bloomed in delicate clusters underfoot. This was the time of year Vanessa loved Somerset most.
But the season also brought its share of trouble. A week ago, the warehouse ceiling had begun to leak. Two days ago, several loose planks had given way, leaving a gaping hole. River Ross ordered the necessary repair materials through a merchant, and Mr. Ross gladly set about teaching his nephew how to cut planks, join them, and drive nails.
From a distance, it was an amusing sight. There were the occasional slips into formal speech, the flustered, clumsy hand gestures, and the awkward glances. Whenever they noticed someone watching, they would invariably offer the excuse that they were still getting reacquainted after not having seen each other since childhood. At times, it seemed Mr. Ross shared a closer, more natural bond with the young soldier staying at his house than with his actual nephew.
Although Gloucester Castle was in a frantic state of chaos with wedding preparations, Vanessa had an abundance of free time. This was entirely because her input as the bride had been completely excluded from the planning. Since she had zero enthusiasm for the wedding, she considered it a blessing.
It was a rare afternoon of beautiful, clear sunshine. Rosalyn and Blair had gone to visit a second cousin nearby and weren't expected back until late. Having finished her manuscript ahead of schedule, Vanessa found herself entirely at leisure. Realizing she had a few hours completely to herself, she quickly rose from her seat.
"My lady."
She had no sooner gathered a few belongings than Mary opened the door and walked in. Vanessa flinched like a child caught misbehaving, and Mary froze, surprised by her reaction.
"What startled you?"
"Oh, nothing. What is it?"
"I came to let you know dinner might be a bit late. The new kitchen maid apparently mistook the salt for sugar."
Mary crossed the room and began tidying Vanessa's stray hairs. As she did, Vanessa watched her maid in the mirror, noticing the beads of sweat on Mary's forehead and neck, her indifferent expression, and her practiced fingers deftly braiding her hair. They had grown as familiar to each other as an old habit, even if neither particularly welcomed the intimacy.
"Don't worry about dinner for me. I'll just read a bit and turn in early."
"You're going to skip your meal?"
"They'll only bring me a tiny portion of vegetables and soup anyway."
"Every bride eats like this before her wedding."
Vanessa let out a soft laugh at the cheeky reply. To think she had to starve herself for a wedding she didn't even want. If that was the case, wouldn't it be better to gain weight? Count Roden would probably flee in horror.
Having finished a loose braid that draped over Vanessa's shoulder, Mary tied a ribbon at the end. Vanessa touched the ribbon, studying her reflection. Her cheeks, flushed from the summer heat, were comically red. As the maid turned to leave, Vanessa called out.
"The kitchen maid's name is Lily, isn't it? Please don't be too hard on her."
Mary gave her a brief, inscrutable look with her deep-set eyes before stepping back.
"Have a good rest, then."
Once the maid's footsteps faded, Vanessa sprang into action. She emptied some oil from her lamp, leaving just enough for it to burn out on its own in a few hours. It was already past four. After carefully locking her bedroom door, she slipped quickly down the stairs.
Stepping into the backyard, she was met with the rich, earthy scent of soil soaked by last night's rain. Carefully navigating the muddy patches, Vanessa pushed open the heavy, rusted iron gate. She didn't let herself breathe freely until her feet touched the lush grass of the garden.
"River."
Vanessa called out, scanning her surroundings. The man who was usually working in his usual spot was nowhere to be seen. She hurried over to the warehouse, grasped the handle, and peered inside.
"River Ross? Are you in there?"
The interior was dim. Though the windows were open and the curtains drawn back, the weak afternoon light barely penetrated the gloom. She knew it would take a moment for her eyes to adjust. From deep within came the muffled sounds of movement. It seemed the ceiling repairs were still in progress.
Moving too quickly in the dark, Vanessa failed to see a table in her path and collided with it hard. As she let out a sharp gasp, River Ross caught her by her slender wrist and pulled her upright.
"When did you get here?"
"Just... just now."
"Follow me. Watch your step so you don't bump into anything else."
The narrow path through the warehouse was flanked by tightly packed stacks of furniture and crates, which had been moved out of the way of the leak. As she followed him deeper inside, the darkness only grew thicker.
"I can't see a thing," Vanessa grumbled softly.
From somewhere in the dark ahead, River Ross let out a low, quiet chuckle.