Chapter 28
“…
Baron Sussex.”
Rowena, meeting the baron’s eyes over Melissa’s shoulder, greeted him with a slightly awkward expression.
“Did you sleep well last night?”
“Thanks to you. I spoke with the lawyer a little while ago, and there is something I would like to discuss with you regarding the trust funds.”
Benedict replied gently with a genial laugh. His voice was slow and solemn, carrying the weight of years. His courtesy toward his master’s woman was beyond reproach.
Yet Melissa immediately read the faint contempt contained within it.—You’ve done well so far, Melissa. All you need to do is say one thing properly.—What do you mean by…….—That Miss Filone is having an affair with a man named William Jennon.—I can’t possibly…….—You have a lame father and a sickly mother. And older brothers with bright futures ahead of them, don’t you?
The cold gaze that had commanded her as though looking down on a worthless ant was vivid before her eyes. Time and again she had tried to inform the duke of the truth, but the safety of her family, held hostage, had stopped her. Even if she somehow mustered the courage to confess the truth, the other party was an aide who had been by His Grace’s side longer than anyone, like one of his own hands and feet. She was not confident he would believe the words of a mere servant..—It’s only one sentence. The trap has already been set, and the evidence is perfect. Even if you don’t testify, the result will be the same.—B-Baron. Please… I cannot do that.—You’re trying to back out now? You’ve done so well pretending to be an ignorant, loyal maid by that woman’s side all this time. You even urged her to meet that man William.—B-but.—I suppose your family isn’t important to you?
She remembered herself from five years ago, when she had closed her eyes to injustice. Unable even to turn around from the chill that came over her, Melissa hugged her own shoulders.
“Melissa?”
“Ah, my lady, I’m sorry. I’m feeling a little unwell…….”
The courage she had dragged up with all her might collapsed helplessly before the fear that came upon her. Looking at the trembling Melissa with pity, Rowena patted her shoulder.
“As I thought, you must be exhausted from traveling such a long way. Rest well today, and I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Yes… thank you…….”
Melissa bowed her head in greeting and fled the room as though escaping, climbing the servants’ stairs. As she gripped the railing and moved her shaking legs, someone called her.
“Melissa?”
“Sir Jenok……?”
Jenok, standing with an expressionless face, gave an order to the startled Melissa.
“Follow me. His Grace is calling for you.”
After checking the vast amount of documents one sheet at a time, Benedict smiled.
“Then we shall proceed as I explained.”
“Ah…… yes. Please take good care of it.”
“Not at all.”
Benedict Sussex was an elderly gentleman with graying hair and gentle wrinkles around his eyes. He was also, along with Jenok, a close aide who stood by the duke’s side.
Rowena understood that he mainly handled accounting matters. As if proving that role, he completed his review meticulously, not missing a single number, and confirmed everything for her.
“If there is anything else you are curious about or find questionable, please feel free to ask at any time.”
“I don’t think there is anything for now. Thank you for taking such care.”
Rowena bowed her head slightly in response to his courteous words and smiled faintly.
“Thank you for troubling yourself when you must be busy.”
“Miss Filone, you are an important person to His Grace, so please do not say such things.”
After organizing the notarized documents one last time, Benedict rose first. When Rowena also stood along with him, he gave a hearty laugh and gestured for her to sit.
“Please, remain at ease. If you see me off like this, it will make me uncomfortable.”
“Even so.”
If it were Melissa or Joan, who were younger than her, that would be one thing, but Rowena also felt uncomfortable being treated with such formal respect by someone so much older. Moreover, the person before her was a nobleman.
An awkward silence flowed for a moment. Benedict smiled gently and quietly suggested,
“If you do not mind, shall we walk through the gallery together?”
The castle was so enormous that even half a day would not be enough to look around it.
It was the result of repairs and expansions carried out over several hundred years.
During all this time, Rowena had never looked around the castle except when going to the main hall, her own bedroom, and Damian’s bedroom. Five years ago, when she had been a mistress, she had mostly stayed at the townhouse in the capital, and even after returning to the castle, she had been unable to wander here and there because she had to mind the Marchioness of Essex.
Rowena thought that many things had changed compared to then.
Now, the marchioness who had once rushed at her with eyes blazing if she did even the slightest thing beyond her station was gone, and the servants who had greeted her with stiff politeness as though they had seen something they should not have were now endlessly courteous.
Unless one was a fool, it was obvious why. It was because of the duke’s attitude toward her over the past month.
Unlike before, when he had sought her out only when he had business with her and showed not a shred of consideration except on the rare occasions when he acted affectionate, now he seemed to be paying her considerable attention.
She recalled the saying that the weaker a person was, the more cruel they were to those weaker than themselves, and the more submissive they were to the strong.
Her thoughts lasted only a moment. Benedict, who had guided Rowena across the first-floor courtyard to the gallery, came to a stop.
“This is a portrait of Lady Heraise. She was His Grace’s great-aunt.”
Rowena slowly lifted her head.
It was a portrait within a gilded frame, painted with painstaking care, stroke by stroke, by the artist.
She saw a noblewoman with jet-black hair and green eyes sparkling like emeralds, seated on a rosewood chair upholstered in satin, gazing this way with languid eyes. Rowena, staring up at the woman in the painting as if entranced, exclaimed in admiration.
“She truly was beautiful.”
“Indeed. The direct descendants of the Devonshire family were famous for their beauty, regardless of age or gender.”
Finding the statement reasonable, Rowena nodded.
Now that she thought about it, the same had been true of the Marchioness of Essex, Killian’s aunt. Even at a glance, one could tell she must have been a stunning beauty in her youth.
Hesitating for a moment at the face that suddenly came to mind, Rowena asked slowly,
“By the way, the… Marchioness of Essex…….”
“She has returned to her family home and is recuperating.”
Before she could even finish, Benedict answered and smiled plainly.
“She will most likely never return, so you need not worry.”
“…
I see.”
Rowena replied with an uneasy heart. Benedict, looking down at her with eyes whose thoughts could not be read, suddenly asked,
“Lady Heraise passed away at Miss Filone’s age.”
“Pardon……?”
It was hard to believe that such a beautiful woman had died young. Rowena’s eyes widened as though she had heard a cruel joke.
“She married a grand duke of a foreign country. Unlike the man, who was said to have fallen in love with her at first sight when he came to Ethelwood as an envoy, it was an unwanted marriage on her part. Less than a year after the wedding, after she had gone abroad, she hanged herself.”
It was a shocking story. But an even more shocking story followed.
“She had a lover. It was later revealed that around the time of her marriage, she had already been carrying that lover’s child. She miscarried, and the story passed down is that she took her own life from the shock. It is a past even the family keeps hushed up.”
“Th-then that lover…….”
“He was a life viscount under the duke of that time, a man who had distinguished himself in war and received a non-hereditary title. He, too, was executed without anyone knowing.”
It was a tale so cruel she could hardly believe her ears.
Passing by the frozen Rowena, Benedict stopped this time in front of a portrait of a man. As if bewitched, Rowena followed and stood beside him.
“This is the late duke. His Grace’s father.”
Like the noblewoman she had just seen, the man had black hair and pitch-black eyes. His somewhat fragile atmosphere was different from his son’s, but in the shape of his mouth and the line of his jaw, there were glimpses of resemblance.
“As you know, he died in a burning mansion with the actress he had been living with. That mistress had been his lover before his marriage.”
Rowena swallowed a trembling breath. Benedict smiled and quietly asked,
“Do you know why His Grace’s middle name is Maximilian?”
“No…….”
As she answered, Rowena rolled the name on the tip of her tongue. It was the first time in a long while she had pronounced his full name.
Killian Maximilian Devonshire.
He hated it so much that he would not utter his middle name unless it was for official documents.
“Because it was taken from that mistress’s name.”
A heavy shock washed over her.
With eyes wide as saucers, Rowena curled her fingers into her palm. She felt as though she understood why he had cut her off so thoroughly when he was about to become engaged.
“The bloodline of the ducal house is cursed to hold only one person in their hearts.”
Rowena, stiff as a plaster statue, looked at Benedict. He pointed to the portrait beside it.
“Th-this girl is…….”
As if he had expected Rowena to collapse, Benedict supported her and asked gently,
“Do you know who she is?”
There was no way she could not. A face that looked exactly like hers in childhood.
Seeing her deathly pale face, he drove in the final wedge.
“She is His Grace’s late fiancée from the womb. The one who looked exactly like Miss Filone.”