Episode 34
Marriages between cousins were common in aristocratic society. Geoffrey Grayson thought so too.
Thus, even when his mother told him that his poor maternal cousin, who had been raised by her grandmother after losing both her parents, was to become his fiancée, Geoffrey merely thought, Well. He felt no particular emotion about it. Rather, since she had been left alone after her parents’ deaths, it seemed only natural that the duke should take in his niece.
In truth, Geoffrey Grayson had not the slightest interest in Sasha Grayson. She was merely a child he occasionally encountered at family gatherings. Even then, she had been nothing more than a shy little girl who would hide behind her younger uncle. Even when he heard that her parents had died in a carriage accident, he felt no particular sympathy.
As was the case with any child of a noble family, he assumed someone would take her in. And since Geoffrey was just as young as Sasha, he had not paid much attention to things like his future fiancée.
It was not until two years after the accident in question that Geoffrey was able to have a proper conversation with Sasha. He had seen her once before, at her parents’ funeral, and again whenever he went to the Dilton estate holding the duchess’s hand, but those had been mere passing glimpses. It was only after two years that they finally spoke.
The cousin who had lost her parents in an instant and was said to have been raised under the hand of that severe grandmother no longer glanced at him with the innocent expression she had worn at the family gathering several years before. Instead, she busied herself offering overly formal greetings to the adults with a blank face, and to young Geoffrey, it looked utterly ridiculous.
So, when had that moment been—the first time he had properly spoken with her? It had been while the duchess was deep in conversation with the elderly Lady Grayson. The two adults had been absorbed in their conversation, and neither his grandmother nor his mother had the leisure to keep Geoffrey in check as they usually did.
Geoffrey slipped away from the adults’ gathering and roamed through the old Dilton estate. Yes. It was while wandering about like that that he saw her, Sasha Grayson, hiding in the garden bushes.
“What’s that doing, hiding over there?”
As soon as Geoffrey saw the back of the child hiding in the bushes, he spoke loudly enough for the maid beside him to hear. It meant, That thing is irritating me. Get rid of it quickly. But the maid merely looked at him with an awkward expression and did not move.
With no other choice, young Geoffrey stepped in himself. He intended to scold the young servant personally for neglecting his duties. More precisely, he simply wanted to pick a fight and relieve his boredom.
When he approached, he saw that the child was not a boy but a girl, and that her face was quite familiar. She was Geoffrey’s cousin—the daughter of his late uncle.
“What are you doing here?”
Geoffrey asked rather coldly, but Sasha merely remained crouched there, as though she could not hear him.
“Can’t you hear me?”
Geoffrey asked once more, then finally grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. His thin cousin’s body dangled in the air with such absurd ease that even young Geoffrey’s strength was more than enough to lift her. For an instant, the hem of her skirt rose, revealing calves covered entirely in red welts.
They were unmistakably marks from a whip. As he stared at the red welts beneath the rolled-up skirt, the back of his hand suddenly began to sting. A scratch appeared, and blood trickled down.
As if ignoring his words had not been enough, his cousin had gone and scratched his hand.
“Is she crazy?”
“Young master! Where are you?”
Just as fourteen-year-old Geoffrey, who had been looking down at his cousin—who was a head shorter than him—with a crooked expression, was about to take a step toward her, he heard someone calling for him in the distance. It was the voice of the maid who attended his mother.
Geoffrey clicked his tongue and reluctantly backed away. As he did, he was able to see clearly for the first time the face of the cousin whom all the adults kept calling pitiful.
She was smaller and thinner than he had expected. To be precise, she was unimpressive. And what was with that expression? The irritatingly innocent child who had hidden behind her father and stolen glances at Geoffrey during family gatherings was nowhere to be seen. Her gaze was truly unpleasant.
Did everyone turn out like that when their parents died? Thinking that, Geoffrey listlessly took his eyes off her, only to slowly trace the pale skin of her neck and the cross-shaped scar resting just below it.
Was she being beaten as she grew up, on top of being starved?
It was not sympathy, nor did he feel any sense of superiority. He had never had a particularly good nature from a young age, and certainly lacked even the bare minimum of kindness required to pity another person. He merely thought, I suppose she grows up being beaten, and left it at that.
That decidedly unpleasant encounter ended there.
His grandmother had a tendency to coddle that cousin rather excessively. Afterward, Geoffrey Grayson visited the Dilton estate several times under the pretext of paying his respects to his grandmother, but each time, he was unable to have a proper conversation with the girl.
She would still stare at Geoffrey from a distance before gliding past him, and whenever the duchess spoke to her and exchanged greetings, she would pointedly offer the duchess an exquisitely formal bow, then look at Geoffrey and say, “Hi.” It was as though the incident that day had never happened.
Until then, the duchess had never particularly brought up the subject of Geoffrey’s marriage to Sasha. But by that point, Geoffrey had already developed an interest in Sasha while pretending otherwise, and he began tormenting her, trying all sorts of tricks to draw her out.
When Geoffrey was sixteen, he saw his cousin walking toward him and hid around the opposite side of a corner. Then he suddenly grabbed her hair and yanked it. Just as he was about to speak to her gleefully, someone slapped him hard across the cheek.
It was the elderly Lady Grayson. Glaring fiercely, she told Geoffrey never to come there again.
His cousin thus went from being someone he wanted to bother for no particular reason to someone he did not even dare approach. Geoffrey truly could not set foot in the Dilton estate again until the old woman fell ill and took to her bed. What a vicious old hag.
And so Geoffrey was not able to enter the Dilton estate again until after Lady Grayson had taken ill, after he had come of age. Only then was he able to speak with Sasha again.
Sasha had grown considerably, being on the verge of adulthood, and she no longer behaved strangely as she had back then. Geoffrey’s interest quickly cooled.
By then, the duchess told him that he would have to marry Sasha. It was not a suggestion so much as a notification.
Whether she said so or not, Geoffrey’s interest in Sasha had already faded, and he felt no particular emotion about it. Even when they occasionally met at church for that damnable worship service, Geoffrey did not speak to Sasha. He had no desire to talk to the girl, who was behaving far more boringly than before.
But regardless of his lack of interest, Sasha was still the person Geoffrey would have to marry someday, just as his mother had once told him. He considered it perfectly natural.
＊＊＊
It had been exactly two weeks since Sasha Grayson had beaten him in front of everyone, then helplessly driven him away for good measure.
Even after that incident, nothing in Geoffrey’s daily life changed much.
In fact, compared to the trouble he had caused over the years, this incident barely even qualified as trouble.
The duke showed him as little interest as ever. Only the duchess obliquely asked about what had happened with Sasha.
Geoffrey looked up at his mother shamelessly and lied that it had been nothing important.
He said that Sasha had picked a fight because he had brought someone to the estate, and that they had merely argued and gotten into a little scuffle.
As expected, his mother merely said, “Is that so?”
That was always how she reacted whenever he caused trouble. This time was no exception.
But as before, she would investigate separately and learn the full details of what had happened.
Just as she had done in the past, she would make arrangements to ensure that the particulars of his misdeeds did not become known to others.
Yes. His mother had always protected him in that manner, for the sake of the son who would become the next duke.
Geoffrey had actually been rather pleased with the fight this time.
Seeing Sasha Grayson—his cousin, who was always as formally polite to him as she was to anyone else—furiously lose her temper at him had somehow pleased him.
Yes. It was better this way, with her cursing and scratching him. That was how a lovers’ quarrel was supposed to go.
Far from reflecting on his actions, Geoffrey privately savored the incident with satisfaction.
Wondering when her anger might have subsided, he planned to show up in front of her again at about that time.
He would say that he was sorry about what had happened last time, but that she had slapped him and, as if that were not enough, scratched him hard enough to leave a wound.
He intended to brazenly appear before her like that.
With those thoughts in mind, Geoffrey Grayson sent her a brief letter. There was nothing much to it.
He did not think there was any need to apologize. Sasha had beaten him up in front of her friends, and he considered that payment enough.
It was an ordinary letter asking how she was, as though nothing had happened, but Sasha did not reply.
Geoffrey had no talent for writing letters. He hated letters to begin with. If he wanted to see someone, he could simply go see them.
Even so, he somehow endured it and sent his cousin another letter asking how she was.
After about three days, a reply came from her.
I’m doing well.
You asked how I’ve been, didn’t you?
Thanks to you, I’ve found someone better. Geoffrey. I’m currently having serious discussions with him about marriage.
So I’m warning you in advance: don’t lay a finger on him.