Deceived 3

Chapter 3

***

Without a shred of shame, some of them scrutinized her like fresh meat, just like the Marquis of Doman.

And why shouldn't they? Wasn't the Count of Twyford himself putting her out like merchandise, engaging in nothing short of soliciting customers?

Blair, whose thoughts had reached that point, shook her head silently. Never before had she felt such fierce rebellion against her father.

It wasn't that she hadn't considered the possibility of a marriage proposal made without her consent. As a woman, she would eventually have to make a vow to a man, and as a member of a noble family, her partner could only be chosen by her father.

‘But not like this….’

Blair avoided the glistening gazes, dousing her throat with apple wine as she struggled to hide her darkening complexion. She thought she was quite skilled at concealing her true feelings, yet this awkwardness refused to subside, making it difficult.

How should a wise and proper woman handle a situation like this? No one had ever taught her. Unable to endure the unpleasant stares, Blair cautiously addressed her father, who was conversing with the noble group.

"Father, I'd like to freshen up my makeup. Would it be alright if I stepped into the lounge for a moment?"

"Go ahead. Look at her. She's the sort of daughter who won't do anything without permission. She'll certainly do well as a hostess..."

The Count, thoroughly drunk, wore an expression that suggested he hadn't even properly heard what permission Blair had sought. He probably thought it was within the predictable realm of anything she might ask and didn't bother to listen closely.

Hiding her impatience, Blair turned and quietly asked a passing servant if there was a place where she could rest. She learned there was a common lounge on the second floor of the banquet hall.

Blair clutched the hem of her dress and climbed the stairs to the upper floor.

Unlike the noisy banquet hall, the second floor was quite deserted, consisting mainly of lounges and reception rooms. With few people around, the noise echoing from the banquet hall sounded distant, as if it were happening in another world.

'Was there even one decent man among them…?'

Ironically, Blair found herself thinking back to the men her father had introduced her to just moments ago. Aside from Lord Doman’s son, whom she hadn't met because he was absent, not a single one had appealed to her.

Regardless of their looks, the feeling they gave her was the same. How could she possibly feel any affection for a group that eyed her up and down with gleaming eyes like a pack of starving wolves?

She understood that if this was a typical marriage arrangement between noble families, there were likely interests at play she didn't know about, and the decision rested entirely with her father. She should have obeyed him, but...

Blair sighed deeply, passing the bronze mermaid statue and heading toward the common lounge at the end of the corridor. As she moved forward with a heavy heart, a sound like a woman's sobs reached her ears from somewhere.

"...?"

Thinking she might have misheard, she stopped abruptly. Listening closely, that strange sound—hard to tell if it was crying or moaning—was leaking intermittently from a nearby reception room with its door slightly ajar.

Was someone hurt?

It certainly seemed that way. It was such an unfamiliar, strange cry that she couldn't just pretend not to hear it and walk past. After hesitating, Blair approached the reception room a few steps away and carefully pushed the door open. Since it was already slightly ajar, the door slid open smoothly without much noise.

"Excuse me. Do you need any help?"

The room, lit only by a dimly glowing lamp, was so dark it was hard to make out the surroundings. Squinting, Blair stepped inside and scanned the area.

The interior was quite spacious. In the center, two two-seater sofas faced each other across a coffee table. The room was furnished with a console holding decorative silver trays and vases, and a bookshelf covered in a light dusting of dust.

Suddenly, the shawl Blair had been wearing fluttered to the floor. It was because the door leading to the balcony just to her left was slightly ajar.

"...Oh."

Blair bent down to pick up the shawl.

"Huhk, hk."

The sound of crying came closer. No, it was clearly a moan. When heard through the door, it had resembled that of a wounded animal, but this was definitely...

Blair froze in the position she’d been in to pick up the shawl, shifting only her gaze to look in the direction of the sound.

Just a few paces away, a jacket lay sprawled on the stone floor, hastily discarded. A palm-sized piece of women's underwear lay on top of it, and finally, in the farthest corner of the reception room...

"Harder. Harder."

"......!"

Blair doubted both her eyes and ears. Two figures, their backs to her, were pressed together as one, repeating some motion. By the faint light, they appeared to be a man and a woman, both naked from the waist down.

Unless one was an idiot, there was no way to mistake the act they were sharing, hidden in the living room. No, Blair admitted she had been incredibly foolish. How stupid did one have to be to mistake those 'moans' for the sobs of a woman needing help?

"Ah, uh-huh, yeah."

"Nicole, hmm... Can't we try it differently today?"

"No... that hurts, I told you."

"Just once."

"You've been terrible lately. What's so great about you that I'd even consider letting you?"

"Do you think I wanted to get engaged? Father insisted I meet her just once. You know I only have eyes for you, my Nicole... Anyway, wait a moment. The cream should be in my coat pocket."

Still frozen in the posture of reaching for the shawl, Blair only moved her eyes again, staring at the coat lying on the floor. The very thing that man, who had been shaking his lower body so vigorously, was searching for must be inside the pocket of this jacket right before her eyes.

Her heart pounded as if it were about to fail. Blair was stunned, nearly fainting, not knowing what to do. She couldn't believe this terrible situation had happened one after another. If this continued, she would have to face that naked man.

Should she turn and dash for the parlor door? No, she'd be caught before taking more than a few steps. Blair whipped her head around. Immediately within her sight was the door leading to the balcony.

Yes, that was it. If she turned left toward the balcony, she could immediately escape the man's sight and, if only briefly, get out of the reception room. Staying on the balcony and waiting for them to finish what they were doing seemed the best option to Blair.

Having reached a clear conclusion, she wasted no more thought and moved swiftly. Clutching her shawl, she dashed outside and closed the balcony door as quietly as possible.

The rather chilly night air enveloped her neck and shoulders. Blair held her breath, straining to listen for sounds beyond the door. Fortunately, no unusual noises reached her ears.

‘Looks like I wasn’t caught.’

Though it was perplexing, to say the least, that the woman's peculiar, strange moans soon followed.

"Ah! Ah!"

“...Why on earth is she making those sounds?"

Blair, clenching both fists tightly, muttered quietly and turned around.

That was when she realized it. Standing right in front of her was a tall man whose eyes she could only meet by tilting her chin up as far as it would go.

“……!”

Blair, who rarely showed agitation, gasped in surprise and froze stiffly. The man, too, stared down at her without moving a muscle. This unexpected standoff lasted quite a while, allowing Blair to involuntarily scrutinize the man she was facing.

The man, with hair as dark as night, showed no sign of surprise at this sudden encounter. His eyes, long and horizontal, appeared almost indifferent, and the ash-gray irises that held Blair's gaze were coolly unmoving. Already tall, he cast a large shadow over her, his back to the moonlight.

"You're blocking the entrance."

After staring at Blair for a long moment, the man spoke softly. Blair, who had been half-mesmerized by his striking face, met his gaze. Only then did she catch the faint scent of cigarette smoke on him. Had he been smoking alone here?

"Would you mind moving aside?"

"Aaah! Aaah!"

And from inside, the strange moans continued to flow out.