Chapter 87
They boarded the carriage again and headed for Isaac’s hometown. When night grew late, Isaac carefully searched for a suitable spot, surveyed their surroundings, then stopped the carriage in a place fit for camping. As though quite used to this sort of journey, Sasha took blankets from the luggage compartment and made up her own bed.
That night, Sasha slept in the carriage, while Isaac took turns sleeping outside with Charles. Isaac had worried what he would do if she asked him to sleep inside the carriage with her again, but to his relief, both Charles and Sasha readily accepted it when he said he would sleep outside.
Charles, in particular, looked at Isaac with eyes somehow fuller of understanding than before and lent him his spare sleeping bag. Isaac found it puzzling, but he did not bother asking why and let it pass.
Before he knew it, morning had come. Before climbing back into the carriage, Isaac carefully knocked toward the inside. From within, Sasha’s voice soon answered, telling him to come in.
When he opened the door and stepped inside, Sasha, who had just been combing her hair, looked at him. The pile of blankets inside the carriage had already been cleared away, and in the meantime she had changed her clothes as well. Only her hair was still let down, flowing in long waves over her arms.
“……That.”
“Ah, yes. It’s what the captain gave me yesterday.”
Sasha spoke with a gentle smile. Isaac’s gaze had been stolen by the sight of her with her hair down for the first time, but when he saw the wooden comb in her hand, he needlessly dropped his eyes to the floor and managed only a nod.
From outside came Charles’s voice, saying that if the two of them were ready, they would set off. When Sasha answered that they should, Isaac reached out and closed the carriage door. Soon, with the sound of a horse’s whinny, the carriage departed.
After finishing her combing, Sasha soon twisted her hair up with practiced ease into its usual style. Isaac was resting his chin on his hand and looking out the window so she could do as she pleased in comfort, but despite himself, he kept glancing over at her. For some reason, he could not take his eyes off her.
‘I’m glad I gave it to her.’
After Isaac gave Sasha the comb, Sasha became kind again, as though she had never acted stiff at all. Fundamentally, she was always kind to Isaac.
Rather, it was a courteous kindness that felt as if a line had been drawn. Had that not been her basic attitude toward him? But after yesterday, it was a little different. That was to say, how exactly should he describe it?
Since yesterday, Isaac had felt that their eyes met far more often. Recently, he had developed a habit of glancing toward her without realizing it, and now, whenever he looked at her, their eyes met. As if she had been looking at him all along.
It was when Sasha, who had been looking only at the floor while fixing her hair, suddenly lifted her gaze. Her eyes met Isaac’s, who had kept watching her with only his body turned toward the window, and the instant their eyes met, Isaac coughed.
After a single shower along the way, the weather remained clear. There was no concern of the wheels getting stuck in a muddy road as they had the day before yesterday, so the carriage continued smoothly toward Isaac’s hometown.
Yes. Before he knew it, they were almost there. Isaac’s stomach began to feel uneasy for an entirely different reason.
Soon, an all too familiar landscape greeted him through the window. Wide fields and farmland, orchards full of fruit trees, and a manor situated beneath a precarious canyon—it was a magnificent sight in itself.
Unable to take her eyes from the window, Sasha told Isaac that his hometown seemed to resemble Lance Field.
Isaac did not deny it. It was one of the reasons he had never been able to grow attached to Lance Field after arriving there.
Inside the canyon stood the mansion where he had grown up. In that place, set apart from the village homes, with the canyon immediately behind it, looking perilous and yet, ironically, cozy.
There was his dreadful home.
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When was the last time he had come here? Probably Edmund’s funeral.
‘So, exactly about a year ago.’
With an expressionless face, Isaac looked at the approaching mansion and recalled that fact.
When he had visited the mansion for the first time in several years, its master and servants alike had all worn expressions as though the world had collapsed. Naturally so. Who could have expected that the eldest son, whom they had never doubted would become their new master, would suddenly die in a carriage accident?
Edmund had been frail since childhood, and every season he always carried some illness or another. When Isaac heard the news that Edmund had died, he had assumed that one of his chronic illnesses must have flared up.
In any case, Edmund had died in a carriage accident. Not from the illness everyone had always feared, but in a carriage accident.
He had died absurdly.
“It has been a full year, young master. Have you been well?”
The one who greeted them as soon as they got down from the carriage was the mansion’s butler. When he opened the carriage door and stepped aside, the count, who had come out to receive them, approached.
Isaac was in the middle of helping Sasha down from the carriage. He had not expected the count, of all people, to come out personally to meet them. With an uncomfortable expression, Isaac looked at him, then turned his back on the count entirely as he took Sasha’s hand and helped her down from the carriage.
The count, unperturbed by his son’s cold reception, walked toward them.
“You must have had a difficult journey, Miss Grayson.”
As though he had expected it as well, he did not so much as glance at Isaac. His greeting was, as a matter of course, addressed to Sasha.
Sasha quickly looked over the count, who, no matter how one looked at him, bore no resemblance to Isaac whatsoever. Judging by Isaac’s build, she had expected the count to be at least somewhat imposing, but to her surprise, he was on the small side.
Their features were different as well. While Isaac had a square jaw and strong, bold features, the count was exactly the opposite. Even at a glance, he had a rather irritable-looking face.
Apart from their contrasting appearances, Sasha looked back and forth at the father and son, who did not even look at each other.
She then greeted the count politely, as though nothing had happened.
“Thank you for welcoming me, my lord. I had been thinking that I should come pay my respects, but I feel sorry to be meeting you in this manner.”
When Sasha lowered the tip of her chin and bent her knees in a courteous and proper greeting, only then did the count’s smiling face turn toward Isaac at her side.
“Have you been well?”
“Yes.”
Those were the only words exchanged upon seeing each other after a year.
Belatedly, Isaac became conscious of Sasha watching them. With a face that looked as though he were forcing himself to swallow a vegetable he hated, he went on to say the rest.
“Have you been well?”
“Of course. Let’s not stand around like this. Come inside.”
Isaac and Sasha followed the count into the mansion.
The old mansion had not changed much since Isaac’s last visit.
The garden was as bleak as ever, and the outer walls, worn by the passage of time, remained the same. As Isaac walked toward the entrance, he noticed a wooden swing beneath a large tree, one rope broken and swaying desolately, and cast his eyes toward it for a moment.
Isaac and Sasha entered the first-floor drawing room with the count and conversed.
In truth, the only conversation worthy of the name was between Sasha and the count.
The count spoke to Sasha about her late grandmother, along with stories from the time when he had once been acquainted with her to some extent.
Yes. Of course. Was it not because of that connection that Isaac had been invited to Sasha’s birthday party?
The unfortunate incident that had recently befallen her was also brought up indirectly, but fortunately, he did not dig deeply and stopped at a vague expression of regret and consolation.
Though Isaac sat among them, he took no part in the conversation whatsoever, as though he were in another world.
The count had insisted that he absolutely had to see Sasha’s face, so Isaac had worried that perhaps he meant to find fault with her the moment he saw her, but that concern had been unfounded. The count seemed well-disposed toward Sasha. Yes. On the surface, at least.
The count’s gaze soon went to the engagement rings worn side by side on Isaac’s and Sasha’s fourth fingers. Noticing his gaze, Sasha quickly said,
“We exchanged rings first, simply, without an engagement ceremony. The captain’s work is terribly busy, so I thought that would be better.”
“For the Grayson family, of all houses, to hold an engagement in such a simplified manner. It is surprising in many ways.”
It was an ambiguous remark, impossible to tell whether it was praise or not. Isaac had already taken it as the latter. Just as Isaac flinched and was about to open his mouth, Sasha held his hand tightly.
Compared to his hand, hers was absurdly small. Feeling her soft, gentle hand take hold of his as if telling him to calm down, Isaac turned his head and looked at Sasha.
Looking straight at the count, Sasha spoke in a quiet, composed voice.
“Though I did meet Grandmother beforehand, I should have at least sent my regards to you as well, my lord.”
“I am not reproaching you simply because you omitted the formalities. It is only that, considering Miss Grayson’s family, I find it unexpected.”
The count looked at the two hands clasped tightly together. Then, calmly shifting his gaze away, he asked,
“So, where and when have you decided to hold the ceremony?”
At the count’s question, Sasha felt a brief pang in her chest. It was because she keenly realized that they had simply rushed through all the preparations.
Was this not as good as informing the family of the man who would become her husband—his parents, no less—of the wedding date as though giving notice?
Sasha was briefly flustered, but calmly said that they planned to hold the ceremony within a month at the latest, and that they had decided to hold it at the old cathedral in Clumber. They would also receive their marriage certificate from the priest there.
“……A month should be ample.”
The count said. His tone was ambiguous, impossible to tell whether he was being sarcastic or not.
The count stroked his white beard.
“Then there should be enough time to prepare here as well. In fact, ever since I heard the news, I have made some preparations to a certain extent.”
Preparations? Something like a welcoming ball?
Just as Sasha was about to ask with an innocent expression, Isaac cut in and asked sharply,
“What do you mean? Preparations?”
Only then did the count look at Isaac and answer as if it were only natural.
“The wedding.”
A brief silence fell. Sasha looked back and forth between the two of them, puzzled.
“Not the ceremony held on your side, but the ceremony held here.”
The count kindly spoke again to the two of them, who were staring blankly.
Only then did Sasha look at the count with an expression of understanding.
Isaac, well. He had not been in a state to react properly for some time now.
“You mean that we should hold two ceremonies. Is that right?”
“That is our family tradition. Regardless of scale, the ceremony must be held on this land where we have long established ourselves. So even if you hold a ceremony on your side, you must hold one more here, in our way.”
The count looked expressionlessly at Isaac.
“Did you not tell Miss Grayson about our family in advance?”
At the reproachful tone, Isaac’s face had now turned red enough to burst. As if that were not enough, veins stood out on his thick neck.
“I was always the exception in this house, wasn’t I? So I assumed that ancient marriage tradition would be an exception too.”
Instead of refuting Isaac’s pointed retort, the count looked at Sasha.
“I did tell my mother in advance, but it seems she forgot to pass it on as well. I heard she exchanges letters with Miss Grayson.”
For Sasha, it was truly no different from sitting on a bed of thorns.
She quickly recalled the wedding plans they had intended for Clumber Cathedral.
A second wedding that had not been in the plan. And in Isaac’s hometown, no less.
“Only the captain received letters from the lady. At the time, I was too overwhelmed in various ways, so all I did was exchange brief greetings with her.”
“I…….”
No sooner had Sasha finished speaking than Isaac was about to spit out the rest through clenched teeth.
Fingers entwined with fingers. Sasha had intertwined her fingers with Isaac’s long ones.
Thanks to that, the curse that had risen all the way from his gut barely stopped. Isaac clicked his tongue as though unwillingly and closed his mouth.
The count quietly watched the two of them as if observing them.