Deceived, yet still drawn to you · 27. October 2025

Deceived 32

Chapter 32

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Sponsored by LC. Thank you ❤️ (⅕)

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“Are you suggesting we move somewhere else to kiss?”

“I do know a secluded spot, but we mustn’t forget today’s purpose.”

“I agree.”

Edmund answered with a chuckle and glanced elsewhere. His expression softened noticeably, as if he’d spotted a familiar face. Blair looked up at that expression, then turned her head as well.

“Lord Liberte.”

“You’ve come, Count of Gillingham. And the Countess.”

The Count and Countess who approached them wore elegant, neat evening attire, not the typically wild and spirited outfits of Borsa. The man addressed as Count of Gillingham continued his greeting in a distinctive Eastern accent.

"Thank you for inviting us. It truly is a feast for the eyes and ears."

"We hope you enjoy your time here. Did you have a pleasant anniversary in your wife's hometown?"

"Oh, most certainly. I couldn't miss the banquet, so I returned home despite my wife's disapproving glances. Congratulations on the successful opening of the Ogwiere’s exhibition."

"Isn't it all thanks to discerning investors like the Count?"

"You flatter me. My part is but a small candle illuminating one corner of the gallery. ...By the way, who is this beautiful lady beside you?"

The Count of Gillingham's attention, bowed modestly, naturally shifted to Blair. Only then did Blair realize she must appear to be Edmund’s partner. Thinking about it, it was a disaster. She had a fiancé, yet here she was, another man’s partner. Though that was precisely why she’d attended, she couldn’t help her heart pounding.

“My apologies for the late introduction. This is Miss Blair, the daughter of the Count of Twyford. This couple here are the Count and Countess of Gillingham, who have made this exhibition all the more splendid."

"Pleased to meet you, Count and Countess of Gillingham."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. My wife is from the Kingdom of Bruken and is still unfamiliar with the common language, so please don't misunderstand if she's a bit reserved."

"Of course. Even as a Genoese, I tend to be reserved in unfamiliar settings."

"How kind of you. Knowing she can find such understanding in a foreign land will surely ease my wife's mind."

Count Gillingham added, offering Edmund a subtle smile.

"Now I understand why Lord Liberte kept his partner hidden all this time."

"Hid? I never did such a thing."

When Edmund responded calmly, the Count chuckled and chimed in.

"I did find it odd that the seat beside such a distinguished gentleman was always empty. I never imagined you’d suddenly bring such a perfect partner today. Good news should be coming soon."

Perhaps because he had only recently returned from abroad, the Count seemed completely unaware that Blair was another man's fiancée. Edmund saw no need to correct this absurd misunderstanding. Instead, he remarked…

"Such praise will surely make Miss Twyford blush."

"To me, she merely sparkles."

"Is that so? If that glow is remembered for a long time, I couldn't ask for more."

The Count of Gillingham laughed pleasantly, as if he'd heard a witty joke. Blair, who knew full well that this remark carried clear ulterior motives, could only cover it up with a belated laugh.

He was a man who never spoke lightly, so she couldn't relax her guard. There was no time to gauge what was true and what was false. His gaze darted unpredictably, making her heart flutter unsteadily.

"It seems we make quite the pair."

Edmund said as he tipped his glass, watching the cheerful couple depart.

"If we look like a couple about to marry without even pretending to be intimate, then we needn't bother trying."

"You seem unfazed by this situation. I thought my heart would leap out of my chest just now."

"The Count and Countess of Gillingham are rare nobles without pretension. They do have a lively wit, but that hardly counts as a flaw in society. If even dealing with them feels burdensome, you'll struggle to endure long on this stage."

He meant this was merely practice, so brace yourself. Yet, unable to ease her stiff breathing and gasping for air, he offered a timely suggestion.

"Perhaps it would be better to look at a painting Miss Twyford enjoys."

"A painting?"

"Coincidentally, since the young lady's visit, we acquired another work by Ogwiere. I'll show you."

Edmund extended his arm naturally. Blair placed her hand lightly on it and followed his lead. Curious glances from the guests gathered in the gallery flew their way incessantly.

He led her to a relatively quiet passageway where no standing tables were set up. Having been deeply impressed by the exhibition, Blair immediately recognized the newly acquired painting.

However, it depicted a scene closer to a pond than a river. The water surface, a blend of soft indigo and ink-black, held a deep, watery hue, upon which large lotus leaves and pink lotus flowers floated. The surface, devoid of even a hint of wind, perfectly captured the sunlight, rendered as realistically as possible. Yet, it seemed subtly at odds with the exhibition's theme, 'River Bathed in Light'.

"This seems a bit different in theme from the other paintings. Was there a reason you added this one?"

"Doesn't that slight discrepancy make it hold your gaze longer? Even if it doesn't reach the sea, this too is a wave holding light."

Edmund added, his eyes still fixed on the pond painting.

"More than that, it's a painting that makes you wonder what lies submerged beneath that calm surface. I exercised my personal judgment and included it before the exhibition opened."

His repeated mention of "personal judgment" struck a nerve. The way he spoke about the work also felt like it was directed at her, leaving an uneasy feeling in the pit of Blair’s stomach. Blair responded coldly, her expression unchanged.

"I was taught that ponds are always still. But their bottoms are murky beyond comparison."

"Why ignore the fact that water lilies, growing through muddy water, bloom beautifully?"

Edmund countered in a soft voice. Blair, finally at a loss for words, avoided his gaze. Even without meeting his eyes, he could surely read the ripples stirring within her. As she tried to look away from the uncomfortable image, a low breath fell upon her earlobe.

"Blair."

His hand drew near, cupping her chin as she kept her eyes fixed straight ahead. Blair slowly met Edmund's gaze. A heavy silence hung between them as their eyes locked. His unusually cool breath lingered on her jawline.

"...Ah."

It was then that a stifled gasp reached them from afar. Turning her head, Blair recognized the voice's owner without difficulty.

It was Nicoletta Underhill. She looked as though she couldn't believe her eyes, witnessing a scene she hadn't anticipated. Nicoletta, staring at the intimate sight of the two people—a relationship that could only be described as romantic—as if she couldn't believe it, opened her mouth.

"I'm sorry. It seems I've... interrupted your private time."

Then she watched Edmund's hand, still holding Blair's chin, intently. Soon, Nicoletta's gaze shifted to one of mixed interest and curiosity.

"I came because I heard some strange talk... Hmm, Lord Liberte was entertaining Lady Twyford, I see."

"As you can see."

Only then did Edmund shift his attention to Isaac's mistress.

"As she's a distinguished guest, I was personally showing her around the exhibition."

"Oh... I see."

Nicoletta, wearing an enigmatic smile, continued.

"Well, enjoy your time. And thank you for inviting me, Lord Liberte."

"Not at all."

Nicoletta turned and disappeared down the hallway. The hurried clatter of her heels seemed to betray an eagerness to spread news of this unexpected love affair she'd witnessed. It wasn't even funny. Wasn't Nicoletta herself the one truly embroiled in a scandalous affair?