Deceived 10

Chapter 10

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Sponsored by LC. Thank you ❤️ (6/6)

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‘So what exactly do I want to do?’

Go introduce myself? Or maybe say thanks? But first, I should probably exchange names…

While Blair, trapped in a loop, hesitated, the man who had exhaled his final puff of smoke stubbed out his cigarette and got into the car. The engine roared to life, and the black car soon glided smoothly away down Fitzrovia Avenue.

‘..I’ve lost my mind.’

Blair, who had watched the entire scene, murmured quietly, like a sigh. Then she walked towards the vehicle where her driver was waiting.

***

About an hour's drive from Borsa lay the estate owned by the House of Liberte.

This vast private estate, known as Eldenvale, embraced dense forests and mist-shrouded lakes. Perhaps because of this, entering the conifer-lined driveway gave the illusion of being cut off from the world.

And the Duke's residence stood right at the very heart of Eldenvale.

"Welcome, young master."

Edmund arrived at the mansion long after the sun had set. Greeted by the butler, Albert, he entered the main building. The imposing main gate, which amplified the mansion's grandeur, was so massive it required two strong men to push and pull it open.

"It's been a long time. It's late, but perhaps you'd like to eat first..."

"No, I'm leaving for Borsa shortly. And my father?"

"The Duke retired to bed a short while ago."

His condition had worsened. Even after being diagnosed with an incurable illness, he used to stay in his study until dawn. Edmund crossed the spacious hall, compulsively adjusting his already perfectly knotted tie.

The main hall of the Duke's mansion, steeped in centuries of history, boasted a grandeur that instantly overwhelmed first-time visitors. Endlessly high ceilings supported by massive stone pillars, floor-to-ceiling windows, chandeliers made of hundreds of candlesticks, and portraits of past heads of the house lining the walls.

It was a place steeped in history. In the dead of night, as quiet as it was now, the mansion felt even more cut off from the world. Even though it was where he was born and raised, it took his breath away.

"I'm afraid I can't offer my greetings. Is the Duchess asleep?"

The butler, who had been following at a distance, did not reply immediately. Only the sound of footsteps echoing on the marble floor pierced the majestic silence. A beat later, the butler answered.

"No. Her Ladyship is in the drawing room now."

Of course she would be. Edmund had sent a telegram announcing his visit. The Duchess always treated him like a guest. Outwardly, it seemed like a gracious welcome, but it also meant he was not to enter the spaces where the mistress of the house moved.

As if to say, he could never truly belong here.

She, aristocratic to her very core, always revealed her hostility toward her stepson in this manner.

"You must be tired. Why not rest here tonight? It's quite late, and you've come home after so long."

"It's fine, Albert. I have a business meeting in Borsa tomorrow morning and must attend."

 As they passed through the corridor and reached the hallway leading to the reception room, Edmund added briefly “thank you” and gave a nod. The old butler had no choice but to stop there, and Edmund began walking quietly down the hallway lined with red carpet.

Soon, he reached the door of the reception room, adorned with embossed decorations. He raised his hand and knocked softly.

"It's me. May I come in for a moment?"

After a few seconds of silence, a voice came from inside, granting permission to enter.

"Yes, come in."

Edmund grasped the handle and pushed open the heavy door. The drawing room interior was filled with the artificial scent of perfume and stifling heat. This was because the fireplace was kept burning year-round. It was always like this wherever Duchess Isabelle of Liberte was present.

Seated before the round table, Isabelle was elegantly 

dressed even at this late hour. She wore a silk gown densely embroidered with gold thread, a necklace of large emeralds, and matching earrings. Edmund swallowed a bitter smile.

"I didn't expect you to visit again at this hour. It seems you still live by a wall built against the word 'courtesy'."

"I only wished to spare you the trouble. Would you not care to dine with me?”

Isabelle, who had been about to sip her tea, paused and looked up at Edmund. Her eyes, fixed on her stepson, flashed with deep disgust.

She had dropped the mask sooner than expected. He understood she was particularly sensitive these days.

He couldn't entirely fail to understand her hostility. Duchess Isabelle, the legitimate wife of the Duke of Liberte, a woman of exceptional grace. In her youth, a series of miscarriages forced her to consent to her husband taking a mistress. Yet around that time, as if fate were mocking her, she discovered she was pregnant herself.

Two children were born bearing the name Liberte at the same time: one the legitimate son of the main wife, the other the offspring of a mistress whose very existence was repulsive.

Thus, throughout her life, Edmund remained an indelible blemish and disgrace to Isabelle. Now that her grown son, Rufus, had been declared infertile like her and even stripped of his position as heir, he could not fail to understand the depth of her loss.

"Happy birthday."

Edmund placed the gift he had purchased from the jeweler in Fitzrovia on the table. Isabelle's icy gaze shifted to the elegantly wrapped gift box. She looked back up at Edmund, then rang the bell to summon a maid.

The maid entered immediately and curtsied before Isabelle. Edmund remained as still as a statue, exhaling quietly.

“You called, madam?"

"Milia, the gentleman has brought his troublesome gift again this year. Place it where I always keep it."

The maid kept her head bowed, shifting her gaze to observe Edmund. Her hands, clasped in front of her, trembled slightly.

"Go on."

A suffocating silence fell. Unable to disobey Isabelle's command, the maid approached the table and carefully picked up the gift box. Then she tossed it into the wastebasket tucked in the corner of the parlor. Isabelle smiled with satisfaction.

"Thank you. Now you may leave."

"Yes, ma'am."

The maid, pale as a ghost, didn't even meet his eyes as she hurriedly left the drawing room. Edmund didn't bat an eyelid as he watched the necklace, worth thousands of francs, get tossed into the trash.

"Take note, Edmund. The gift I truly desire is..."

Isabelle, regaining her composure, moved her lips with an elegant smile.

"The news of your untimely demise."

"Unfortunately, news arrived before that."

"...What?"

"The news that your beloved eldest son has been declared infertile."

The last thread of reason Isabelle clung to snapped. Unable to bear the shame, she clutched the tablecloth tightly, her face flushing crimson.

"You... You! You vile, lowly creature!"

"Please, Your Grace, help me maintain at least a modicum of decorum."

"So you reveal your true intentions. I've heard all about the schemes you've been plotting behind the scenes. You're actively seeking a bride to secure the dukedom, aren't you?"

"You are gravely mistaken. I understand the bride candidates were personally vetted and approved by my father. Could it be you've mistaken me for the duke, even though I haven't formally succeeded him yet?"

"That position belongs to Rufus. It was his from the moment he was born. It's a position a lowborn like you dare not covet, dare not even dream of."

"What can I do, Mother? Even a commoner like me, legally a Liberte, has been granted this opportunity as if by fate. I shan't be requesting your congratulations later, so do not worry."

Isabelle, who had been about to leap from her chair, collapsed back into her seat, clutching her neck. Her face flushed crimson with rage that boiled up like poison, her fingers trembling violently.

Pretending to be noble for too long can make you sick. Edmund sneered, pulling a pocket watch from his jacket inner pocket to check the time. It was time to leave.

"How ridiculous. Did you just call that fate?"

Isabelle, catching her breath, raised her head and glared at Edmund with eyes bloodshot red.