Chapter 4
Only after making Melissa promise her over and over did Rowena change into men’s clothes inside the carriage.
“Then I’ll wait in the carriage.”
“Thank you. It won’t take long.”
“Take care.”
Unlike its old, shabby first impression, the inside of the publishing house was more spacious and clean than she had expected.
“Thank you for coming all this way. I read your manuscript with interest.”
“Thank you……”
As Rowena sat down, glancing around in curiosity, a man brought out coffee.
The person seated across from her looked to be about thirty. He was younger than she had expected. He was neatly dressed, tall, and pleasant-looking, but instead of the smell of ink one naturally expected from someone who wrote and read books, she caught the faint scent of perfume.
While Rowena was feeling slightly puzzled, the man smiled and held out a business card.
“I’m William Jennon. The owner of this publishing house.”
“……
I’m Philip McCarthy.”
She had to strain her throat to deliberately lower her voice. Fortunately, the other party did not seem to care much and went straight to the point.
“To get right to it, returning to your manuscript, it read smoothly enough. However, there were a few parts that need revision.”
“What parts…?”
Rowena asked, blinking, and the owner, who had been silent for a moment as if thinking, abruptly said,
“The sentences are good, but the story is, how shall I put it… difficult to sympathize with.”
“You mean……”
“The places the protagonist goes are far too limited. Members-only restaurants, luxury cruise ships, first-class hotels. Of course, they’re vividly described, and young girls may very well admire such things, but… will a novel that feels hard to relate to and fanciful appeal to the general public?”
It was a critique that struck to the bone. Rowena, rendered speechless by the first proper assessment she had ever heard, listened closely to him.
“A tavern crowded with people, a park on a sunny day, the lakeside in spring. Try adding ordinary, relatable settings like those.”
“But……”
Rowena hesitated, then pursed her lips.
“But?”
“I’ve never been to places like that.”
“Then you should experience them.”
“Pardon?”
The moment Rowena widened her eyes at the sudden suggestion, William sprang up from his seat.
“I have another appointment right away, so I’ll have to go. Come to Cornwell Park tomorrow. By noon. I don’t have time, so please be on your way.”
At the urgent dismissal, Rowena was practically driven out of the building.
“How was it?”
“Mm, I’m not sure.”
“What about the contract? Did you sign it?”
“That too……”
After awkwardly smiling at Melissa’s barrage of questions, she changed back into her original clothes inside the carriage, and by the time they returned to the townhouse, the sun was already sinking low.
Rowena got out of the carriage with an anxious heart and hurriedly lifted her head toward the window of the second-floor bedroom.
The light was on.
“…
It’s not time for him to return yet.”
“My lady?”
Rowena turned her head toward Melissa, who was about to follow her out.
“…
Melissa.”
“Yes?”
“It’s your usual time to leave, isn’t it?”
“Well, yes, but……”
“Then go home. Quickly.”
“What? But still.”
“Go.”
The back-and-forth was brief. Only after sending the hesitant Melissa away did Rowena grasp the doorknob. Just as she turned it, the door opened from the other side.
Mrs. Gertrude greeted her with a rigid face.
“You are late.”
“Somehow it turned out that way……”
“And you did not call the coachman who was waiting.”
“It was close by…. I thought it might be troublesome, so I took a hired carriage.”
“I heard you went shopping, but I do not see any parcels.”
“There wasn’t much worth buying today.”
Rowena barely managed to lift the corners of her mouth and changed the subject.
“By the way, the light was on in the bedroom.”
“His Grace returned a little early.”
Her uneasy guess had been correct. It had been wise to send Melissa away.
As Rowena stiffened, a scullery maid quietly approached her. Rowena took off her coat and handed it to the maid, then looked upstairs with fearful eyes.
Killian was, to a certain extent, a lenient master, both to his employees and to his mistress.
He had enough generosity to overlook most mistakes, and even with those beneath him, he never spoke down to them casually or treated them carelessly. Nor was he the type to keep Rowena confined to the townhouse, unable to move.
He did attach an attendant to her, but when she went out with Melissa, he made an exception. However, there was one absolute, unwritten rule that had to be obeyed.
She had to be waiting in the bedroom when he came home.
He was generous as long as one did not cross the minimal line he had drawn, but in the opposite case, he was merciless.
The thought of the man waiting in the bedroom made her mouth go dry. She could hear the pulse of her heart in her ears. Rowena desperately racked her brain and stammered.
“Then first, I’ll w-wash……”
Gertrude looked at Rowena like a fox that, to escape a sandstorm, had merely buried its head beneath a rock.
“No.”
“……”
“He instructed that you come up as soon as you returned.”
At that cold sentence, Rowena’s legs nearly gave way. She braced a trembling hand against the wall. Her path behind her was blocked, and before her, a pitch-black beast stood with its jaws open.
There was no path of escape.
Killian Devonshire’s first impression of Rowena Philone had been that she was a delicate, innocent woman.
A woman from a remote mountain valley with little traffic, who could not suspect others and knew nothing of the ways of the world.
When he heard on the train that she was twenty, Killian felt the blood that had been rushing to the top of his head cool in an instant. He was twenty-eight, and a woman who had only just become an adult was far too young for him.
The minimum morality and integrity he possessed blocked his instincts. The indecent imaginings that had been creeping up within him ended as well.
Their pleasant time was brief, and when the train reached its destination, as if he had never coveted the nape of that white neck, he gave her a clean farewell.
—We’ve arrived. It was a pleasant time, Miss Philone.
—Ah…… yes. For me as well, Mr. Killian.
He remembered the way her shoulders had drooped a little, as if she were reluctant to part. The woman dripped with sweetness like a perfectly ripe fruit, but in truth, she was a child. Not yet fully ripe, likely to leave an astringent aftertaste. He turned away without lingering from the woman who looked at him, unable to bring herself to speak to him any further.
It should have ended there.
Normally, the moment he left the train, he should have forgotten her completely. But he had underestimated how intensely she had lodged herself in him.
Even as he got off the train and boarded the carriage waiting in advance, and even after he arrived at the townhouse, the image of the woman clung to his mind and would not leave.
At first, he thought it might simply be frustration. He wondered how long it had been since he had last held a woman, then remembered that he had broken up with the actress he had been seeing two months ago.
After that, he drifted from one meaningless banquet to another. There were many women who would have been content with even a single night, but among them, there was no one he wanted to take to bed. The more he tossed and turned with unquenched thirst, the more he turned it over in his mind.
There were plenty of reasons why that woman would not do.
First of all, she was a twenty-year-old child. And at a glance, she did not even seem to belong to the middle class. But his flimsy conscience did not last long. The conclusion he reached after suffering endless insomnia and frustration was rationalization.
Was twenty not adulthood?
He was not looking for a marriage partner, so did status matter?
Perhaps once he held her once, all interest in her would vanish.
—Rowena Philone. Blonde hair, green eyes. She arrived in the capital not long ago. Look into her.
Gertrude looked surprised by the sudden order, but only for a moment.
The news that came back soon after was shocking.
—They say she was a high-class courtesan who used her blonde hair as a weapon. She is apparently on the run after incurring a great deal of debt.
It felt as if someone had poured cold water over the top of his head. At the sharpness in the air, Gertrude hurriedly lowered her eyes.
—…
Shall I bring her?
—No.
He had thought she was a pure country girl……
A hollow laugh welled up in him. What extraordinary acting it had been, enough to completely fool even him, who considered himself somewhat worldly.
His jaw tightened. Murderous intent rose within him, but what was most laughable was himself, for having been unable to free himself from such a woman even for several days.
—Enough. You may leave.
He gave the cold order and had just picked up the pen he had set down for a moment. Gertrude, who had been hesitating, quietly asked,
—Your Grace, that woman… she looked very much like the late Lady Angela.
—……
—She seems to be short of money now… and if used well, she could be quite useful, could she not? It seems Her Majesty may bring up another marriage proposal again……
At that moment, an alarm bell rang in his head. It was a fairly reasonable point.
—That is a good idea.
—Then, at once……
Gertrude’s face brightened, and she turned around. Seeing her ready to leave at any moment, he shook his head.
—Not at once. After she has been dragged through the dirt a little more.
Only a person who had crawled on the ground and fallen to the very bottom knew their place. If she would become obedient only after rolling through the mud pit in misery, he could wait as long as necessary.
And his thoughts proved correct.
After waiting until she was crawling on the ground, he saved her, and the woman easily took his hand. In exchange for paying off her enormous debts, she nodded at his proposal that she become his mistress.