Chapter 21
***
What on earth was he proposing? Though she couldn't fathom it, Blair didn't press him for details right away. Her mind was reeling with tangled thoughts, and she'd find out tomorrow anyway. Besides, her father would likely be absent around that time, so she could probably slip away by giving the servants a plausible excuse.
"Let's do it that way."
"Excellent. Can you return to the banquet hall?"
"...Yes."
With that, Edmund escorted Blair back the way they had come. He showed meticulous foresight, blending naturally into the crowd returning from the lantern release to avoid suspicion. Blair, seated back in her chair, waited only for the Marquis of Doman’s birthday banquet to end. She didn't spare a single glance for Isaac, who had returned to the banquet hall with a flushed face.
04. Leap
Spring had arrived, and the days were longer in Borsa. Even at five in the evening, it was as bright as midday. Thanks to this, Blair was able to shake off Mrs. Norris, who insisted on accompanying her, left the townhouse.
The Regent Bank, her meeting place, was located in the capital's financial district. She told her driver, Hamilton, she planned to visit a nearby art gallery she'd researched beforehand. Having attended an exhibition there once before, she fortunately didn't arouse much suspicion.
Lying to secretly meet a man. It was the first time in her life she'd done such a thing, and her heart pounded as if she'd committed a grave sin. Would she ever get used to this?
She had no way of knowing.
Entering the bank, Blair followed an employee who seemed to be waiting for her, presumably having been notified by Edmund beforehand. She passed through a secretive passageway reserved for distinguished guests and entered a room resembling a conference hall, dominated by an imposing mahogany table.
There, Edmund was poring over documents. As always, he wore an immaculate suit, his black hair neatly combed back.
Lifting his eyes from the papers, he looked up at Blair. Their eyes met, and Edmund, with a smile as impeccable as his attire, pushed back his chair and stood.
"You've arrived, Miss Twyford."
"Lord Liberte."
"Few have passed through that corridor at my request. That makes you a very special guest, Miss Twyford. Please, have a seat."
An attendant personally pulled out the chair for Blair to sit in. As she took the seat facing him, she thought.
She had heard that Edmund, who had inherited the various businesses of the House of Liberte, was a businessman who bought bonds, increased their value, and resold them. So he must visit banks frequently.
But why had he summoned her to a place where he met with business partners and exchanged contracts?
"Did you get any sleep last night?"
"...No."
"You must be quite tired. I won't take up much of your time."
Blair had no idea where this conversation was headed, but she silently nodded. Edmund picked up another document from the table and placed it before her.
"If you recall what you've been through recently, I believe this proposal won't be too bad."
"What is this?"
"Consider it a mutually beneficial arrangement."
Blair stared blankly at the paper Edmund had handed her. She gazed for a moment at the words printed in ink as black as his hair. This was indeed a contract.
Marriage, damages, succession to a title. As she tried to connect the seemingly unrelated terms, Blair lifted her downcast gaze. For now, it seemed better to hear it in Edmund's own voice.
"Would you mind explaining it first, Your Lordship?"
"You said you wished to break off your engagement to Isaac Doman. I will help you. Even if the agreement binding you to him becomes an issue, I will cover all the financial losses incurred as a result."
Blair furrowed her thin eyebrows. An annulment. There was nothing Blair desired more at this moment. While the stigma of being a woman whose marriage had been annulled was unwelcome, the offer to take responsibility for the ensuing problems was enough to sway her.
But in this world, there was no such thing as free luck. Blair stared intently at the man who seemed utterly unwilling to make a losing deal.
"What do you want from me in return?"
"You marry me."
Edmund returned the answer without hesitation. His deep voice held a power that made listeners lean in. His pronunciation was so precise she caught every syllable clearly, yet Blair only blinked. Several seconds passed before she realized he had just proposed to her.
"I don't quite understand. Why?"
Blair swallowed a trembling breath to keep from stuttering.
"Lord Liberte, surely you don't... like me?"
"No."
Edmund, who had been as composed as if dealing with a business partner, finally let a chuckle escape between his lips.
"One year, Miss Twyford."
“…What?”
“You need only play the role of my wife for one year. After that period, I will pay you generously. For instance, I will guarantee you sufficient funds to leave for wherever you wish and start a new life.”
No, this wasn’t even a proposal. Before Blair could even process her bewilderment, Edmund continued.
"This is purely a nominal marriage. There will be no need to share a bed or be swayed by emotion. Naturally, you'll need to attend unavoidable social engagements together."
"......"
"This means you have no obligation to share my bed. Just keep in mind that you'll need to maintain a certain level of affectionate display for the sake of appearances."
Listening to his distinctly businesslike tone, Blair struggled to maintain her composure. Only the slightly quickening beat of her heart proved difficult to calm.
"It's so sudden, I don't know where to begin asking questions."
"If I were you, I'd start by confirming the intentions of the person proposing this deal. If that doesn't make sense, the rest is just sugarcoating."
He wasn't wrong. Blair pushed the compensation he'd offered to the back of his mind for a moment and asked again.
"Why do you need a temporary wife?"
"I have no intention of having an heir. I only need a justification for inheriting the dukedom."
Edmund, who had been staring at Blair the whole time, briefly shifted his gaze out the window. The red sunlight streaming through the window rippled across his profile, lost in thought. Was it a mistake to think he seemed coolly self-mocking? As Blair pondered this, her eyes met Edmund's once more.
"My father, Duke Liberte, is gravely ill. He could pass away at any moment. To inherit the title, now, while he still lives, is my only chance. "
"But don't you have an older brother?"
"I have a half-brother. He lost his ability to have children, so his position as heir is uncertain."
"...Ah."
"Even so, it's not entirely impossible that he, being the legitimate heir, could inherit the title. That's why I wish to secure a wife as soon as possible to solidify my position. Do you understand?"
Blair nodded. Since the foremost condition for inheriting the dukedom was taking a spouse and producing an heir, she understood his proposal perfectly. However….
“Why did you choose me?”
“Because what I need is a noblewoman who is suitably refined and suitably disadvantaged. And here before me stands a beautiful young lady whose interests align perfectly.”
"For example, a woman who will have a record of a broken engagement?"
"I'm glad you grasp things quickly. If you agree to the contract, I'd like the wedding to be held immediately once preparations are complete."
Blair couldn't suppress the hollow laugh that burst out. Her wedding to Isaac Doman was right around the corner. If she broke it off, it would mean marrying another man almost without pause, to put it mildly. What kind of scandal would circulate in society about Blair?
"I'd become a woman who committed adultery alongside breaking off an engagement. You said you've known Lord Doman for a long time? Then I'd be branded even more spectacularly as the woman who had an affair with the close friend of her former fiancé."
"It doesn't seem like you're in a hurry."
"Because it's a fatal mark for a woman. And then you expect me to leave Genoa and start a new life? After spending my entire life in the small estate of Glassford, only recently coming down to the capital?"
"Oh dear."
Edmund wore a genuinely regretful expression.
"Then you refuse the deal?"
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