Deceived 22

Chapter 22

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***

Blair's face stiffened as words failed her. Instead of answering, she avoided his gaze and bit her lip hard.

She would break off her engagement to Isaac. Then she would be embroiled in scandal, following her mother's footsteps to the letter—running off with the stablehand. A year later, she would be a divorced woman. If she took that man's offered hand, she would live with such a dishonorable stigma. Darkness flooded her vision.

But what would she gain in return? An independent life and ample funds. She could leave for a place where no one knew her and start anew. It was an age where money, not titles or status, could determine a person's worth.

'But... am I truly ready for this?'

Ready to bear all that stigma, to relinquish the name and honor of an aristocratic family, to choose a completely different life.

"You said you'd endure anything."

Edmund pulled a cigarette from his jacket's inside pocket, placed one between his lips, and chuckled softly. Click. As the lighter ignited, he asked in a smooth voice.

"Have you changed your mind already?"

"......"

"Or are you suddenly scared now?"

The question struck her competitive spirit right where it hurt. Blair narrowed her eyes and stared straight at the man exhaling a trail of smoke. A faint smile played in his gray eyes, as if he were teasing her.

"It's not fear. It's just..."

She had spent her entire life vowing never to live as freely as her mother had, choosing instead a rigid, conventional existence. She couldn't simply flip her life like turning over a palm overnight. Swallowing that truth, Blair continued.

"It's because I never imagined a proposal so utterly beyond common sense."

"But you became curious about my proposal, intrigued. You wanted to make a choice like this at least once, didn't you?"

"That's an incredibly arrogant assumption."

"Was my assumption wrong? I didn't expect Miss Twyford to want to live conforming to the reality she's faced."

His words were sharp, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he understood her. Had anyone ever pinpointed the complex emotions within her with such precision? Edmund seemed to have pierced right through Blair’s heart.

Blair had always moved according to her father’s will, living by locking herself into a rigid framework to erase her mother’s traces. Yet now, for the first time, she faced a moment where she could carve out her own life.

After a long silence, Blair moved her lips.

"Did you approach me with this in mind from the very beginning?"

Perhaps taken aback by the unexpected question, Edmund didn't answer immediately. He tilted his chin slightly, exhaling cigarette smoke. All the while, his intense gaze remained fixed on her.

"You suspect a calculated approach?"

"Yes."

"If it were that calculated, I would have presented the contract from the start."

His following words made Blair's expression freeze coldly.

"And to the Count of Twyford, not you. For a businessman like me, wouldn't that have been easier and more straightforward?"

"......"

"This is a life-or-death deal for me too. And Miss Twyford, I don't make deals unless the opponent is interesting."

Edmund continued in a softer tone, as if soothing her.

"Because I judged you and I to be similar people. That's why I have no doubt we can maintain a good relationship. Think of what I proposed not as marriage, but as a turning point in your life. If you can handle it, it’s also a freedom worth fully embracing.”

A turning point in life. Ever since she’d come down to Borsa, she’d secretly dreamed of such a path.

She just hadn’t known she’d face that moment today. She certainly hadn’t imagined the man before her would bring that breakthrough.

Would it have been better if he’d been threatening or insulting? Then she could have turned her back without hesitation. But by granting her this reprieve, leaving the choice solely to her without condemnation or coercion, Blair found herself growing more confused.

Edmund approached her precisely in the way she’d always guarded against most. He persuaded with logic, broke her down with emotion, and relentlessly dug into her weak spots. Even as she wanted to flee, she kept finding herself drawn back to him.

Perhaps the illusion that someone understood her was the most dangerous temptation of all.

"Just a few more days... I want to think it over."

"Of course. However, since the invitation to your wedding arrived for me as well, I should remind you that time is not on our side."

Edmund added briefly, his gaze fixed outside the window.

"As night falls, perhaps we should take our leave."

As he said, dusk had already descended. Blair, who desperately needed time alone anyway, agreed to the suggestion and rose from her seat. Edmund stood abruptly as well, opening the door himself to make room for her to pass.

"I'll offer one piece of advice that might help you decide whether to proceed with the contract."

Blair, who had just started to leave the conference room, paused and turned her head.

"It's about the young lady's fiancé. It seems he's been receiving secret medical treatment with increasing frequency lately."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I hesitate to mention the specific illness to a lady. Would you understand if I said it's a social disease caused by a promiscuous lifestyle?"

Edmund continued in a tone devoid of regret.

"It's a rather serious condition. Anyone who shares a bed with him should be concerned about contagion. Particularly given the agreement binding them to produce at least three heirs to the Domans. One wonders if the young lady's father is aware of this fatal flaw."

What on earth was this? Blair narrowed her eyes and drew in a sharp breath. The advice, seemingly privy to the details of the contract between the two families, was also deeply unsettling.

"Is that true? More importantly, how does Lord Liberte know such details?"

"Well. Perhaps you should investigate the truth yourself."

Blair bit her lip, swallowing a trembling breath. An ominous premonition arose—she might be peering into a far dirtier abyss than she’d anticipated.

His calm gaze, contrasting with her agitation, offered a quiet farewell.

“Well then, Miss Twyford. I look forward to seeing you again soon.”

***

Blair had asked for a few more days to consider Edmund's proposal, but what she truly needed wasn't time—it was the courage to make a decision.

When he offered his hand, she dimly understood this was her best remaining option. She had to decide: should she take Edmund's hand, accepting the stigma she so feared, or continue living the life of an obedient noblewoman?

If she took that man's hand, could she truly live as her whole self?

"I have no doubt we can maintain a good relationship."

It was true that Edmund was the only person she had come to like since arriving in Borsa. He appeared whenever she needed him, and perhaps because he shared many subtle similarities with her, he seemed someone she could rely on. Blair wanted to believe her judgment was sound.

'But to propose something like a sham marriage... That man is definitely no ordinary person either.'

Blair pressed her fingers to her throbbing forehead and closed her eyes. She couldn't just stand by and watch the situation slip away helplessly. She had to act, somehow, in whatever way she could.

"We've arrived, Miss."

Just then, the wheels of the relentlessly rolling vehicle came to a halt. Blair, roused from her thoughts, looked out the window. With a rather solemn gaze, she stared blankly at the place they had just arrived at.

Filling her vision was the Royal Library of Genoa. Located just over twenty minutes by car from where Blair stayed, this library was the oldest building in the kingdom. True to its reputation, its massive, grayish-white outer walls exuded an imposing, fortress-like atmosphere.

"Thank you, Mr. Hamilton."

"Then have a pleasant time."

With the driver's assistance, Blair stepped out of the car and climbed the tall stone steps. With each step, she composed her nervous heart before entering.

The library's interior also boasted a magnificent scale. The ceiling, supported by antique stone pillars, soared impossibly high. Along both sides, multiple tiers of bookshelves were lined up, densely packed with countless books. Even as she passed through the marble-floored lobby and headed for the staircase, it was difficult to focus her gaze on any single point.

'The second-floor special reading room, was it...'

Holding the hem of her skirt, Blair began climbing the stairs covered in red carpet. By the time she reached the second floor, which felt nearly as high as the fourth floor of a regular building, her breath was caught in her throat. She walked down the hallway, hoping she didn't look ridiculous.

Finally reaching the reading room, the footman guarding the door gave her a slight smile.

"Welcome. May I see your invitation before you enter?"

"Here it is."

Blair handed over the invitation she had brought. After glancing at it briefly, the footman bowed respectfully.

"Welcome to the reading by the Duchess of Doman, Lady Twyford. Please come inside."