Deceived 58

Chapter 58

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Blair recoiled in shock at the sudden appearance of the obscene nude painting. Seeing her horrified expression, Rufus smirked with a sneering, wicked grin. A flush rose to her cheeks a beat too late.

"Wh-what on earth is this?"

"What do you mean? I merely wanted us to look at a book depicting the human form together. By the way, what do you think of this painting? Isn't it tremendously artistic?"

Rufus gazed down at the explicit nude painting, slowly tracing its curves with his fingertips across the page. His eyes, flicking up at Blair, were boiling with filthy desire.

"That painting is obscenity disguised as art. Surely you know that, Your Grace."

"Interesting. Isn't that for the viewer to decide? To the eyes of a pure new bride, it might just look like a lewd painting, but to someone like me, with eyes trained to properly appreciate art, it appears quite different."

"Then I shall keep my eyes pure. I'll be going now."

"No, wait."

Rufus stepped in front of Blair as she hurried to turn away. His damp breath hit her, making her shoulders flinch involuntarily.

"You're not exactly pure, are you? You're a bit curious, aren't you?"

Rufus was slimmer than most men, but to the naturally slender Blair, this man exerting subtle pressure felt utterly threatening.

"Didn't you come to the library to steal forbidden books using your husband as an excuse?"

Stunned, Blair felt it wasn't even worth responding and kept her mouth shut. The more she spoke, the more he'd seize on it and lash out. Yet, interpreting her silence as he pleased, Rufus grinned triumphantly.

"Edmund used to hole up here often when he was young too. I always wondered what he did all day. Maybe he enjoyed reading decadent books."

"If my husband frequented the library, it was for learning and reflection. Not to sneak around looking at pictures of naked women."

At this retort, the smile vanished from Rufus's face. Just then, the faint sound of footsteps came from the stairs, as if the librarian was heading up to organize books. Seizing the moment, Blair slipped past Rufus.

"I'll be off."

"It was a pleasure conversing with you, Lady Liberte."

The voice behind him deliberately emphasized 'Lady Liberte’ with deliberate force, the tone meaningful. Blair hurried away without looking back at Rufus. Her heart was pounding wildly from the unexpected encounter.

***

It was a day where fatigue was scheduled from dawn. As soon as Edmund arrived in the capital, he waded through a pile of documents related to the hotel's expansion project, reviewed them at length, and then headed to Chiles Bank. 

There, he engaged in a lengthy wrangling with investors over issuing bonds to secure construction funding. After finally wrapping up the negotiations, he proceeded to hold a delayed daily meeting.

Afterwards, he met with his personal legal representative to discuss inheritance matters, which proved even more taxing than the nearly five-hour bond negotiation meeting.

Edmund's position as heir was precarious. While the main businesses of the Liberte family were gradually passing into his hands, no clause or wording affirming his succession to the title could be found in any contract. The lawyer's opinion was that no one could guarantee succession until the Duke explicitly stated it in his will.

"Have you spoken with His Grace the Duke since news of the eldest son's recovery reached us?"

"Not yet. His condition worsens daily, to the point that funeral preparations are being hastened within the family."

The lawyer, who had been silent, added his opinion.

"If succession remains uncertain despite reviving the dead custom of performing a ritual to prove marital relations, then we must present His Grace with clearer evidence."

"Such as?"

"Announcing that you are making strenuous efforts to conceive an heir."

A deep sigh escaped him. Edmund sank deeper into the car seat, raising a hand to rub his brow.

"Merge your bedrooms. Merely giving the impression you strive daily will suffice. His Grace has little time left."

It made sense. Noble residences typically had many bedrooms, and noble couples rarely shared theirs unless there was a specific purpose. Merely combining their bedrooms would thus serve as evidence they were 'attempting to conceive'.

Even if Rufus had partially regained his sexual function, it was merely a precarious candle flame. A tiny spark of possibility that could extinguish at any moment. How could that fleeting spark ever find a suitable woman and conceive?

The Duke, obsessed with continuing his bloodline more than anyone, would surely weigh the odds between his two sons. If Edmund, standing in a vastly more advantageous position than Rufus, established a marital bedchamber, even a pretense would prove his will to produce an heir, solidifying his claim to the title even further.

No matter how he pondered it, uniting his bedchamber with Blair's was the only path to swiftly grasp the right of succession.

The easiest method, in truth, would have been to impregnate a woman and have a child. But he chose a contract marriage to avoid that simple solution. He didn't need a child. His sole goal was to ascend to the position of Duke. Therefore, to solidify his position as heir, he had to prove his resolve to his father.

However, he had made a promise to Blair at Eldenvale not to share a bedroom. He couldn't go back on that agreement now, could he? Thinking this, he found himself circling back to square one without reaching a conclusion.

Edmund lowered his eyes, then gazed out the carriage window. Eldenvale, shrouded in downpour and fog. The place he inevitably had to return to. The weight of the day pressed heavily on him as he stepped inside, and Blair's face flashed into his mind. Still, he felt relieved to have returned before evening as promised.

Whether she'd heard ahead of time, Blair was waiting in the entrance hall. Without the servants in tow, just the old butler Albert and her alone—as if she'd come out simply because she missed her husband.

"You're back. You worked hard again today, Edmund."

Her straightforward greeting made her look quite the part of a wife. Edmund smiled down at her.

"Everything alright?"

"...Yes."

"......"

"The butler mentioned that you prefer to dine in the sitting room adjoining your bedroom. Shall I have dinner prepared there now?"

"No. We'll dine together in the dining room again tonight."

Edmund gave a quick nod to the butler bowing beside him before continuing.

"Now that I have a wife, there's no reason to eat separately."

"Then I'll prepare it immediately. Change your clothes and come down to the dining room."

"Blair."

Blair, who had been about to turn away at Edmund's call, looked up at him.

"Before that, could you help me change clothes?"

"...Uh..."

"I’m tired. My hands don't seem to be moving right."

Blair pursed her lips at the absurd excuse. The elderly butler, who had been standing quietly, backed away without even clearing his throat. Only then did she step close to him.

"What are you up to?"

"I'm serious. If I intended to strip you bare, wouldn't I have come up with a more plausible lie?"

Watching Blair blink, Edmund added calmly.

"Why don't you just help me out for a moment?"

"But how can you make such an indecent request in front of an elderly butler?"

"I'm sorry. Next time, I'll ask when we're alone."

His prompt apology left her speechless once more. Edmund extended his arm before her and continued.

"We can go to my bedroom together, then head down to the dining room. Shall we go now?"

Thus, Blair had no further choice. Watching the woman, escorted by him, head toward the bedroom to help her husband change—whose hands were too tired to move—Edmund couldn't help but let a quiet chuckle escape.