Deceived 40

Chapter 40

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Sponsored by LC. Thank you ❤️ (3/7)

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The banquet hall, with its soaring ceilings reminiscent of a cathedral, was an impressive space dominated by a golden chandelier suspended from the ceiling. 

The enormous rectangular table positioned at its center glistened dazzlingly, reflecting the light streaming down from the chandelier off dozens of silverware pieces and crystal glasses. Considering there were only five guests, the meal prepared was excessively lavish.

Walking inside, Blair kept swallowing dryly. Her trembling must have been felt by the man beside her, for Edmund glanced down at her.

"There's no need to be nervous."

His low whisper fell against her ear.

"Just act as you normally do."

As usual. Repeating his words silently, she matched her pace to his. She shifted her gaze from surveying the banquet hall to fix it on the figure seated at the head of the table.

Seated in a chair that rose upward like a throne was William Liberte. A great noble whose name she had known since she was a girl living on the northern Glasford estate, the Duke who led the Liberte family. 

The closer she approached him, the faster her heart beat. To the right of the head seat sat the Duchess, Isabelle, and right beside her was a young man who bore an uncanny resemblance to her. Blair was certain this was Edmund's half-brother, Rufus Liberte.

"Father."

Edmund, having reached the table, bowed his head toward William.

"Allow me to formally introduce you. This is my fiancée, Miss Blair Twyford."

Up close, William Liberte looked distinctly ill, appearing at least twenty years older than his actual age. Yet, his sharp features retained traces of the handsome youth he once was.

With his eyes as deep as mist and an overall resemblance so striking it was astonishing, even if the world whispered that Edmund was illegitimate, no one could doubt his bloodline.

"It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace. I am Blair of the Twyford family."

"Ah, a lady of the Twyford family..."

Duke Liberte replied in a slow, almost muttered voice, his gaze fixed on Blair. It was clearly a weighty, appraising look.

"You must be tired from your long journey. Please, take a seat."

"Thank you, Your Grace."

As soon as permission to sit was granted, a servant approached and pulled out a chair. Edmund sat to the left of the head of the table, and Blair took the seat beside him. Opposite them, Rufus stared at her intently.

"Try not to be too nervous. Sit comfortably and listen. It's just a family gathering today, after all."

Unlike earlier, Isabelle smiled warmly as she welcomed Blair. Blair smiled faintly at the Duchess, whose face was beautifully adorned with makeup and a smile.

"Thank you for your consideration, Madame. And... Lord Liberte."

After hesitating over how to address Rufus, she said this, and Rufus snorted.

"The word 'family' coming from mother's mouth? How interesting."

"Rufus, dear.”

"In any case, welcome. Miss Twyford, was it?"

"...Yes, that's correct."

"Let me tell you one thing about our family: since ancient times, the Liberte dinner table has been called a fateful seat. It means only those bearing heavy burdens may sit there. As Mother said, I hope you sit comfortably."

Despite Isabelle’s subtle gesture to restrain him, Rufus remained stubbornly defiant. Though he was originally destined to inherit the dukedom, his path blocked, his sense of inferiority toward Edmund had grown so intense that even at the first meeting with his fiancée, he was utterly rude.

"If my brother says so, then my fiancée should also receive respect befitting that weight."

The low voice from the adjacent seat captured everyone's attention.

"She too will bear the name of Liberte, won't she? As the future Duchess."

"You... What are you...!"

"That's enough."

The frail Duke's voice settled over the expansive table.

"The weight that comes with the family name is something everyone here understands well. Since the family is gathered, shall we raise our glasses in celebration?"

Standing attendants approached and poured wine into each glass. William's glass was filled not with wine, but with a medicinal tea rich in herbal aroma. Picking it up, the Duke shot Edmund a sidelong glance.

"Must be some potent ingredient in this—it certainly does the trick."

"I'm glad. I instructed Benjamin to prepare tea that would prioritize reducing the pain."

"Yes. What I need now isn't a cure, but a painkiller."

The Duke's cloudy eyes shifted to Blair seated beside him. She, who had been sipping her drink, straightened her back slightly.

"I had only two sons, yet they tormented me for so long. I trust Miss Twyford understands what constitutes the greatest disobedience a child can commit against an aristocrat."

"......"

"How delighted I was when my second son, who had failed to settle down by twenty-six, hastily announced his engagement! But then to learn his betrothed was a young lady who had already been engaged to another house... I couldn't hide my astonishment."

Blair held her breath quietly. Since Edmund hadn't spoken, she remained silent too.

"Having one grown son remain unmarried was an even greater worry. I won't rest easy until I see the Liberte bloodline continue before my life ends."

“…I am pleased to be able to ease your worries.”

Blair replied thus, and Edmund naturally added his own words.

“Miss Twyford is truly a person without equal to carry on the name of the duke’s house. I will marry her without further delay and fulfill my duty as a son, Father.”

“But dear.”

A soft voice interjected. It was Isabelle.

"Edmund says he intends to hold a private wedding ceremony immediately upon his return this Wednesday, but that is too fast. A wedding is an important ceremony that establishes the family's prestige. Our relatives abroad have heard the news; should we not wait for them all to gather?"

"Delaying the ceremony to wait for all relatives would only cause unnecessary delay. Especially our great-uncle—his age makes even the journey itself a burden."

Edmund, seeing through Isabelle's attempt to postpone the wedding, retorted sharply.

"Is establishing the legitimacy of the heir not as important as the family's reputation?"

Isabelle’s hand, clutching the wine glass, turned white. As silence fell, she looked at Edmund and Blair in turn.

"I'm terribly curious what you value more right now. It seems the reason you're rushing the wedding isn't solely for the family's future."

"Mother, if I had other intentions, I would not have dismissed the match with the lady of Archibald in the first place."

He implied that if he sought to fulfill political ambitions, he would have chosen a bride to solidify his position. He had chosen a woman from a small northern estate who was already betrothed, abandoning the easier path. The Duchess could not help but be confused. Edmund raised his glass, the corners of his mouth turning up as he declared.

"My choice of Miss Twyford was based solely on love. For the love that has blossomed between us, I simply wish to hasten a ceremony that is little more than a formality."

The ambiguous statement sent ripples through Isabelle's blue eyes. Rufus's face twisted like crumpled paper, while Blair sat frozen, unable to speak. Only the Duke's eyes, knowing his days were numbered, flashed with vivid intensity.

"Love? If that too can serve as a reason for an heir, then welcome it. Even if not all relatives can gather, see that the ceremony is hastened.”

"Of course, Father."

Edmund, obeying his father's command, clinked glasses with him. The clear sound of glass meeting glass echoed through the banquet hall. Yet, only the Duke and Edmund drank the toast.

***

The day at Eldenvale ended thus. Spending the night alone in a strange bedroom at the new estate was not particularly difficult for Blair. What kept her awake, however, was the vague uncertainty of tomorrow. As she pondered the utterly ambiguous future and the elusive man, her chest tightened as if waiting for it, making sleep a hopeless affair.

She had thought that once the wedding was over, the hardest part would be behind her, but she sensed this was only the beginning. The Duke's entire focus was on producing an heir. With the family's highest authority so obsessively fixated on preserving the bloodline, Edmund had told her he had no intention of having children with her.

So then, how exactly did he plan to evade the pressure and secure the title? Blair, unaware of his thoughts, couldn't help but feel uneasy…

Lost in such thoughts, she dozed off. It must have been only a couple of hours. As breakfast time approached, Blair opened her eyes to the maid's wake-up call. Still half-asleep, she sat at her dressing table and let her body be tended to in silence. Just as she finished her preparations, someone knocked on the bedroom door.