Deceived 61

Chapter 61

***

Sponsored by LC. Thank you ❤️ (7/7)

***

Isabelle's lips stretched into a long, curved line. Seeing that expression right before her eyes, Blair’s heart grew cold as if she'd heard bad news instead of good.

"May I ask what the news is?"

Blair, unable to contain her curiosity, asked cautiously. Isabelle chuckled softly and continued her meal with graceful poise.

"You'll find out soon enough anyway. Why not? Isn't a surprise more fun that way?"

Then she looked fondly at Rufus seated beside her. Even Blair could see the immense affection sparkling in her eyes as they rested on her son. Rufus, however, offered no smile or nod of agreement, merely moving his cutlery, making the mother-son dynamic seem even more peculiar.

"By the way, I hear your husband is coming home late tonight. You're newlyweds—how can he leave his wife feeling lonely already?"

The moment Edmund's name was mentioned, Isabelle's expression changed like flipping a palm. Even if he wasn't her biological son, he was still her son. She made no effort to hide her blatant favoritism. And she did it right in front of his wife. Blair calmly concealed her expression and replied.

"It's fine, Madam. He keeps me updated whenever he can, so I don't feel neglected."

"Oh? Maybe he's not that busy after all."

"...His dedication to his work is for the family's sake, and even if he's late, he always comes back to me. So there's no reason to feel lonely."

"Well, if it's as you say, that's fortunate. Some wives feel empty even when their husbands are beside them, but you're the opposite. How remarkable. Rufus, don't you agree?"

Isabelle skillfully drew in Rufus, who had remained silent throughout. He took a large bite of steak dripping with red juices and gave a vague nod.

"I agree with Mother."

"My good son."

Blair rolled her eyes, gauging the mood between mother and son, then quietly resumed her meal. They said to sit at this dinner table, one must bear the weight of the name Liberte. Isabelle's presence made the meaning of that phrase painfully clear. With a single word or glance, the Duchess could unsettle a person's heart, then savor the resulting anxiety and turmoil like a delicacy at the dinner table.

Receiving affection from someone like that would suffocate you. What, then, if you faced persecution accompanied by curses bordering on verbal abuse? Recalling the venom she had hurled at Edmund on their wedding day, her heart inevitably froze.

"But, dear."

Isabelle leaned forward slightly, her face softening into a secretive smile as she asked. Blair was seized by foreboding once more.

"Yes, please speak."

"News that should naturally come during a honeymoon. I haven't heard anything yet."

Blair blinked, not immediately understanding, but her face soon flushed bright red. Seeing her obvious embarrassment, Isabelle waved her hand dismissively.

"It's something we can discuss as a family, don't you think? Isn't that right, Rufus?"

"Of course."

"Anyway, it seems there's still no news of a new life between you two, unfortunately. Am I being too hasty?"

"...Ah... Well, ma'am."

Blair set down her cutlery, cold sweat beading on her forehead, and dabbed her mouth with a napkin. Then, flushing red as she always did when lying, she lowered her gaze. Hoping, desperately, that it would look like she was just embarrassed.

"We're both healthy, and our relationship is... good, so we just hope that... good news will come soon."

"Yes, if there is news, be sure to tell me too."

"Understood, Madam."

"I mean it. What do men know, who only care about satisfying their own desires? Carrying a child is something only another woman can truly understand. That path has more lonely and frightening moments than you might think. Don't try to endure it alone. If you ever need help, come find me."

Blair nodded with a demure smile. She had a dangerous thought: if she were truly planning a pregnancy and a naive woman with no one to lean on, she might have genuinely wanted to rely on Isabelle.

***

That night, after bathing and preparing for bed, Blair found herself aimlessly pacing by the window. Though her bedroom window couldn't even see the vehicles entering the estate, she kept glancing out the glass, as if waiting for someone.

Edmund had said he wouldn't return until dawn after finishing his work. Would he come knock on her bedroom door then, too, to say hello? That question was just an afterthought.

After staring out the window for a long while, Blair finally turned toward her bed, only to pause abruptly. Two moving silhouettes had come into view near the distant glass greenhouse.

The greenhouse was brightly lit even at night, making their identities easy to discern. One, wearing a white apron, was the maid; the other, facing her, was clearly Rufus.

'What on earth are they doing?'

Though she couldn't hear their voices, something felt off. Rufus had grabbed the maid's arm, and she was clearly struggling to break free, twisting her body away from him.

Blair's heart dropped. A chill ran down Blair's spine. Come to think of it, Millia had mentioned earlier while helping her bathe that she needed to tend to the tulips in the greenhouse tonight.

'Why would Rufus... What on earth is going on?'

Suddenly, the awkward encounter in the library flashed through her mind like lightning. Her hesitation was brief. Grabbing her shawl, Blair hurried out of the bedroom.

It was bedtime for everyone, so she dashed through the mansion's corridors shrouded in darkness. Descending the stairs and crossing the hall, Blair grabbed hold of a guard standing watch at the main building's entrance.

"What is it?"

"Where is Albert now?"

"The butler is in his quarters. What is it?"

To reach the senior staff quarters, one had to pass through the long corridor on the right. Growing impatient, Blair pressed him.

"Then could you follow me for a moment?"

"Pardon?"

"Come on. And open the door for me."

The guard looked bewildered but glanced at his colleague and began pulling the door open. Blair, her heart racing, looked up at the massive entrance door that required two strong men to push open.

She hurried her steps, accompanied by the guard, toward the glass greenhouse. The noise grew louder the closer they got—she hadn't imagined it. Even then, Blair couldn't believe it.

Finally reaching the greenhouse, the moment she heard Millia's choked sobs, Blair shouted at the top of her lungs.

"Millia!"

Rufus flinched and turned around. Millia, standing before him, came into view. Her tear-stained face and maid's uniform, torn down to her collarbone, made it painfully clear what had happened.

"What... what's going on here?"

Rufus, who had been silent, abruptly released the maid's arm. A sly smile flickered at the corner of his mouth.

"Nothing much. I was just scolding the maid for neglecting her duties."

"Milia, come here."

The maid scurried over to Blair's side. Blair was only slightly taller than Millia, equally slender, yet she stood with shoulders squared and feet planted firmly, trying not to show fear.

"Neglected her duties? Even so, was it necessary to scold her so harshly at this late hour that she ended up crying?"

"What's the big fuss over scolding one servant? More importantly, why must I explain myself to my brother's wife?"

"I have a duty to protect my maid. Having witnessed unjust scolding, I couldn't turn a blind eye."

“She was my maid before that. She belongs to the Duke’s household. Before you dare question me, perhaps you should reconsider the hierarchy of this estate.”

Rufus shot an irritated glance at the guard standing behind Blair.

“Sam, what are you doing here anyway?”

“…Ah.”

"Come here. Your master was just about to take a stroll in the garden."

The hesitant guard glanced at Blair, then shifted his steps toward Rufus. Blair watched them both, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Rufus, who had been about to leave in the opposite direction as if nothing had happened, turned back toward her as if remembering something.

"Did you say hello? This is Sam. He has served our family honorably since his father's generation, and now, in recognition of his service, he enjoys my mother's generous patronage."

With a smirk, as if to say this petty commotion should end here, Rufus turned and began walking away. The guard Blair had brought as a witness and escort followed Rufus. Staring open-mouthed at the two men, Blair soon took Milia's hands, which were trembling.

"Let's go back to my bedroom."

***

It was nearly midnight. Alone in the bedroom, Millia remained silent for a long time. As Blair poured her tea, she asked cautiously.

"Would you tell me what happened with Master Rufus?"

Millia's shoulders shook as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand. The maid's eyes flickered uneasily, struggling to find the words.