Chapter 147
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 147
"It reminds me of the Laurel party."
Coincidentally, just like that night, the air was thick with the festive energy of a celebration. Sitting alone with this man in the dark, memories she had tried so hard to bury began to crawl back to the surface.
The dim light of the gazebo, the kiss they had shared beneath a thin shawl, Cedric’s hot breath, and the searing touch of his hand tracing the curve of her back.
I’ve lost my mind. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and she swallowed hard. She was convinced she was going insane.
But then, Cedric spoke. "I owe you a great debt from before."
"Pardon? From when?"
"The night of Count Laurel’s party."
For a moment, Harriet felt as if her heart had stopped dead. She had assumed those memories were hers alone to obsess over, yet here he was, recalling the exact same night.
Was this just another coincidence?
Though a flutter of excitement rose in her chest, Harriet instinctively guarded her heart. If she allowed herself to be swayed by his 'unintentional' words, she would only regret it later.
"Ah, that? Your Grace has more than repaid that debt. Besides, I told you, didn't I? I would do anything to return the favor for you saving my Great-aunt."
At her words, Cedric let out a sharp, breathy laugh—"Ha"—and covered his mouth with both hands. He seemed genuinely amused, though she couldn't fathom why.
"That promise to do 'anything'... don't you think it’s a bit dangerous?"
"Why? Are you going to ask for my heart? If so, I’m taking the offer back."
"I do want your heart, but..."
"Pardon? What would you even use it for?"
Cedric looked at Harriet’s bewildered expression and burst into a fit of laughter.
"You truly never react the way I expect! Not even once!"
"Oh, really?"
Harriet had no idea what he meant, but he was laughing so heartily that she found herself joining in. She didn't understand the joke, but the sound of his laughter made her feel good.
As their giggles faded like those of playful children, the music from the banquet hall drifted into the garden once more, filling the empty air. Listening to the familiar melody, Harriet felt a strange, fuzzy warmth settle over her.
Suddenly, Cedric extended his hand.
"Shall we dance?"
"Here? Right now?"
She thought he was joking, but Cedric simply nodded, his expression asking, 'Why not?'
"You’re wearing such a beautiful dress; it would be a shame to leave without a single dance."
"Are you worried I won't have a partner if it isn't Your Grace?"
"You never dance. Not at any party, not even once."
"How do you know that?"
Instead of answering, he wiggled his fingers, silently urging her to take his hand. Harriet gazed at his broad palm and long, elegant fingers before slowly resting her hand in his.
Cedric rose first. With his free hand, he took her by the waist and pulled her to her feet. She gripped him tightly to keep from stumbling backward, and when she saw him chuckle, she cleared her throat in embarrassment.
"Anyone who sees us will laugh."
"No one will come this far. Rest assured, no one is watching."
She almost asked how he could be so sure, but she decided against it. What did it matter if they were seen? Today, Cedric would dance and converse with many women. She would simply be one of them.
"I’m not a particularly good dancer. Please bear with me."
"Then I shall lead."
He adjusted his grip on her hand, pulled her waist a little closer, and began to move to the music.
Recalling the grueling lessons where Roxana had made her practice until her feet bled, Harriet followed him into a waltz. Unlike those tedious, rote rehearsals, moving in sync with Cedric was exhilarating. If she had known dancing could feel like this, she would have tried it much sooner.
Is it only fun because my partner is him?
It made no sense that stepping, leaning, and twirling in a cramped corner of a garden could be so enjoyable. Unless, of course, the partner was special. And if that wasn't the reason, there was no explaining why her chest ached with a dull, heavy throb despite her joy.
I think I’ve really gotten myself into trouble.
A bitter taste filled her mouth. She had always wanted to best this man, but in the end, she had become the underdog, completely at his mercy.
Her heart felt as if it were being squeezed, yet she didn't want the dance to end. However, the music eventually faded into silence.
Harriet, breathing softly, remained in Cedric’s embrace. She was flustered by how closely he held her, but she pretended not to notice, wondering when she would ever get to be this close to him again.
"I didn't realize you were prone to exaggeration. Contrary to what you said, you dance quite well."
Harriet let out a small laugh at the sound of his low, resonant voice.
"The cramped space helped hide my lack of skill."
"Then perhaps we should try a spacious ballroom someday."
He was carelessly showering her with kindness, oblivious to the turmoil in her heart. Harriet couldn't bring herself to agree; she merely offered a thin smile. It was time to wake from the dream.
Just as she was about to pull away, Cedric kept his hand firmly on her waist and continued.
"Do you remember when I said I might need your help?"
"Yes! You said something interesting was happening to you..."
Cedric nodded.
"I believe it would be quite an intriguing proposition for you as well. Would you care to hear it?"
Harriet lifted her head to meet his gaze. His eyes held an inscrutable intensity, and a subtly mischievous smile played on his lips.
"I’m curious. What is it?"
Cedric’s smile deepened. He lowered his head, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered.
"Are you interested in revenge?"
It was a sweet trap, and Harriet knew she couldn't refuse.
*
A few days after the Duke’s party, Trisha departed for Einspora with Roxana.
Though it had been a whirlwind introduction to High Society, Roxana was adamant that Trisha’s recuperation could no longer be delayed. Harriet agreed.
"The hot springs will definitely help. Sir Nelson recommended them himself."
"Alright, alright, I get it. You’re such a nag. If anyone tries to pick a fight with you while I’m gone..."
"I’m not so easily pushed around anymore. Don't worry, Grandma."
"Impudent girl. To the ladies who have spent decades in this den of vipers, you’re still just a greenhorn!"
"Haven't you heard how I silenced Lady Marshall at the Duke’s party yet?"
At Harriet’s brazen attitude, Trisha let out a huff and shook her head. But she didn't scold her.
"If you get a reputation for being a brawler, how will I ever marry you off? If there’s nowhere else for you to go, you’ll just have to stick by Roxana’s side."
Knowing the affection hidden within those sharp words, Harriet smiled and gave her a tight hug.
Roxana planned to stay in Einspora until Trisha was settled, after which she would commute between the resort and Genoa to handle family affairs. Harriet intended to visit, but Trisha was firm about her goals.
"Don't waste your time using me as an excuse to slack off. Our situation isn't exactly leisurely."
"I understand. I’ll write often instead."
"Don't write long letters; I’m too lazy to read them."
"Yes, ma'am!"
With those small displays of affection, Harriet saw Trisha off.
*
Not long after Trisha’s departure, talk of the fox hunt began to circulate through the capital.
Fox hunts usually took place in autumn or winter, but this year, an early explosion in the fox population had led to reports of severe crop damage.
"So, they’ve decided to hold a hunting competition during the social season," Viviana said, admiring her new bonnet in the mirror.
Harriet, who was helping her friend change, nodded indifferently.
"The hunting competition is for the men, so it doesn't really concern us, does it?"
Viviana turned to her, eyes wide with shock.
"What are you talking about? Is there any event as thrilling as a hunting competition?!"
"Huh?"
"It’s a romantic tradition! A brave knight presents his spoils to his lady!"
Harriet watched, flustered, as Viviana gestured passionately at the air. Then, Viviana pointed a finger at her.
"You absolutely must receive something that day! It’s the ultimate measure of your popularity. You’ve seen how many trophies Bella receives, haven't you?"
"Well... yes, but..."
There was a reason Harriet was so reluctant.
"I’ve never even received an invitation to a hunting competition."
To receive a trophy, one first had to be invited to the event. Hunting competitions were exclusive affairs hosted only by the great nobles who owned vast forest estates within Genoa. Harriet had no connections to secure such an invitation, and Trisha had never cared for them.
"This year, with Grandma gone, it’ll be even harder to get one. So, Vivi, please enjoy yourself enough for the both of us."
"Sh-should I talk to some people for you?"
"No, it’s fine. I have plenty to do at home. I need to help my aunt with the estate."
Viviana apologized for her thoughtlessness, but Harriet truly didn't mind. You couldn't miss something you’d never experienced. Besides, she really did need to assist Roxana.
However, to Harriet’s shock, an invitation to the hunting competition arrived just two days later.
The sender’s name was 'Edgar Dawson.'