Chapter 94
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 94
Above all, the fact that the Duke had a long-time lover was the most difficult thing to accept. What could have possibly been her reason for choosing him as her partner in a scandal? Vanessa let out a dry, hollow laugh.
She now had to accept it: her life, and her child, were nothing more than a foreign element wedged between a perfect pair of lovers.
Vanessa heaved a weary sigh. Letting her emotions get the better of her would only do more harm. It was a relationship that would end soon anyway. She should go back up to her room right now, pack her bags, and head to the countryside…
‘To the countryside.’
The plan that had once seemed like an absolute certainty now felt alien. Was it really alright to raise the Duke's illegitimate child as a commoner in Ingram?
What if, by some chance, the child learned the truth about their father in the future? What if they despaired over their circumstances, envied the legitimate Young Duke born to the Duchess, and dared to covet what they could never have?
‘Just like the illegitimate children I often saw at St. Louis.’
Her steps ground to a halt under the weight of her tangled thoughts. Just then, the door of a nearby restaurant swung open, and a wave of hot steam and the scent of freshly cooked food washed over her face.
‘Ah.’
She tried to fight it down, but her body reacted faster. A sudden wave of nausea tightened her throat. She bent over, clamping a hand over her mouth.
Her vision spun violently as dizziness overwhelmed her. Just as she stumbled, about to collapse onto the pavement, a man rushed over from the hotel, panting as he gripped her arm tightly.
“Vanessa!”
Through her tear-blurred vision, she caught a glimpse of red hair.
* * *
The only reason Blair Fabian Winchester had come to The Chester Hotel was because of Rosalyn. Since her falling out with Vanessa, Rosalyn had been noticeably depressed. Once she finally shook off her melancholy, she frantically sought someone new to shower with affection, as if to compensate for the loss. Hailey Morton was the perfect candidate at the perfect time.
She was two years older, shared similar interests, and had a rather pretty face. In less than ten days, Rosalyn was completely swept up in the new friendship. She idolized Hailey and wanted to tag along everywhere she went.
“Blair. Don’t just stand there in the way, come over here.”
He made no effort to hide his weariness at Rosalyn’s call. Today, Miss Hailey Morton was eagerly volunteering to be the subject of the reporters’ cameras. She carried herself like a blissful bride-to-be celebrating the culmination of a long romance—as if she were the rumored woman staying with the Duke on the top floor of The Chester Hotel.
To someone who knew a fraction of the truth, the sight was laughable, but he kept his thoughts to himself for his sister’s sake. Still, the outing was tedious. To make matters worse, Sissy Bronte—who had begged him to take her to the department store—was running late, and the wait was excruciatingly boring.
Blair leaned against a pillar at the hotel entrance, staring irritably at the driveway as he waited for Sissy Bronte’s carriage. That was why he saw her before anyone else.
“...”
Her. Vanessa. A carriage door opened, and she leaned halfway out. In that instant, color flooded back into the drab, dreary street. Blair forgot how to breathe as he stared at her.
She looked even more haggard than the last time he had seen her. Her steps were unsteady, and the tip of her nose and her eyelids were flushed pink—the exact expression she always wore when stubbornly trying to suppress unbearable emotions.
Her long, loose golden hair fluttered in the warm breeze. The dried sweat on the nape of her neck, her chewed-raw lips, her small, pale ears, her tightly clenched fingertips.
Every tiny detail stole his breath. Seeing her in person made the longing cut even deeper. The realization that the past few weeks—which he thought he had endured well enough—had actually been a living hell struck him all at once.
He didn't know how he had survived until now. How could he have ignored her so completely after they had forged such a deep bond over so many years?
“Blair?”
Rosalyn, who was linking arms with Hailey Morton, called to him with a questioning look. Excusing herself from her friend, she walked straight over. He sensed a trace of disapproval in her gaze but was in no state of mind to care.
“What on earth has you so distracted?”
Rosalyn frowned at her brother’s pale, frozen expression. Only when she followed his gaze did she understand. Beside him, he heard her sharp, shallow intake of breath.
“...”
His sister’s trembling breath was damp with old grief. It was only natural. In their minds, they were still trapped in their mother’s teal room—on the night they had learned the truth.
Hoping for some other hidden truth was a futile expectation. The last time they had spoken on the phone, his father, the Marquis of Winchester, had avoided giving a straight answer despite his desperate pleas.
—…I did keep the letters Louise wrote back then, yes.
That was all he had managed to wring from his father, whose sigh-like voice sounded as if he regretted the words the instant they left his mouth.
“What do you mean, letters?”
—It is nothing, so do not concern yourself with it. We shall speak when I return.
A nagging sensation told him he was missing something. A crushing sense of helplessness weighed heavily on his shoulders once more.
All the while, Vanessa was drawing closer. She kept pausing to sigh, staring blankly into space, seemingly unaware that he and Rosalyn were nearby. And in the next moment…
“Vanessa!”
Her fragile frame swayed, looking as if it would collapse at any second. Without a moment’s hesitation, Blair bolted toward her, catching her by the forearm just in time.
Vanessa froze, her expression one of utter disbelief. When she whispered his name, her voice sounded agonizingly sweet.
“…Blair?”
Blair slowly swallowed. Blinking her tear-rimmed eyes, Vanessa was terrifyingly beautiful. Her sorrowfully pale face sent a sudden, chilling shiver down his spine.
“Let go of me.”
Her anxious, trembling voice only made his grip tighten. An overwhelming urge surged within him: to pull her fragile body into his arms and comfort her, to take her away right now, to a place where no one could ever hurt her.
“Blair.”
Just as his greed roared in his ears, his mother’s weeping echoed like tinnitus, a bucket of ice water poured over his feverish head. The realization that they could never be together, not even in death, as long as she shared Wyatt’s blood—it was a calculation that came far too late.
Blair slowly released Vanessa as she struggled to pull away. Rosalyn, who had been watching them with a pale face, hurriedly spoke to the approaching figure.
“Lady Hailey, please, just a moment…”
“It’s alright, Rosalyn.”
Hailey Morton’s voice was strangely cheerful. Tapping the arm Blair had extended to block her path, she stepped past him and stood before Vanessa.
Vanessa looked deathly pale, like a cornered animal. Blair’s eyes instinctively drifted to her hand, which had reflexively covered her lower abdomen.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Vanessa.”
Hailey Morton offered a sickeningly radiant smile. She deliberately pried Vanessa’s hand from her stomach, clasping it tightly in both of her own.
“I believe we have quite a bit to discuss, don’t we?”
* * *
From the moment she climbed into Hailey Morton’s carriage until the door clicked shut, Vanessa glanced anxiously out the window.
The Duke’s subordinates, who had been tailing her, kept their distance without a fuss, but the reporters who smelled a scoop were relentless. The commotion only subsided after several coachmen stepped in to push them back.
Once she was sure the chaos had died down, Hailey Morton drew the curtains herself. Looking at Vanessa’s pale face, she smiled elegantly.
“Are you worried? That your identity might be exposed?”
“…A little. There were so many reporters.”
“Don’t worry. Not a single one of them belongs to a newspaper that hasn’t lined its pockets with Morton money. I have enough influence to dictate what kind of article gets published, and in what tone.”
“...”
“Theodore will find out, though. He’ll certainly receive a report that we got into the same carriage together.”
Theodore. Her casual use of the Duke’s first name exuded absolute confidence, befitting his long-time lover.
Vanessa lowered her gaze, avoiding Hailey’s direct, brown eyes. Overwhelmed by a sudden wave of anxiety, she instinctively cradled her lower abdomen. Hailey Morton stared at the desperate gesture for a moment before speaking with a smile.
“It seems you are pregnant.”
“...”
“Is it my fiancé’s child?”
A crushing wave of misery stole the breath from her lungs.