Deceived 88

Chapter 88

***

A faint sneer tinged her voice. The first night. The observation ritual. The disjointed words lodged themselves in her mind. Still reeling from the shock of the last words, Blair narrowed her eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

"You didn't know?"

Isabelle's sapphire eyes sparkled. Blair couldn't bring herself to answer and pressed her lips tightly together. Seeing that expression of loss for words, Isabelle's eyebrows twisted in apparent pity.

"Oh dear, how pitiful. You truly didn't know, did you? Edmund must not have told you."

"......"

"My husband was a very thorough man. He wanted to prove in bed whether his half-son had consummated a proper marriage. You know, Edmund's lineage is a bit... well, you know?"

"I don't quite... understand what you mean. I don't know exactly what the consummation ceremony entails..."

"The observation ceremony is when a betrothed man and woman consummate their union before witnesses of their families. It's an ancient Liberte’s custom, proving they've become husband and wife. It hadn't been practiced recently, but the late Duke wanted to revive it."

Isabelle reached out and picked up her teacup. With impeccably graceful posture, she took a few sips of black tea before meeting Blair’s bewildered gaze and continuing.

“But what era is this? We couldn’t possibly perform a custom that vanished over a century ago. So on the night you and Edmund consummated your marriage, we had the priest who officiated the ceremony and seven attendants stand in the hallway, not the bedroom."

Even after hearing that far, Blair couldn't speak. Like a dullard who understood nothing, she only moved her lips. Observing her expression, Isabelle added cautiously.

"My dear. Actually, Rufus was also..."

"...What?"

"Rufus was there too."

Her heart, which had been racing as if it might break, plummeted to the bottom. A ringing seemed to echo in her ears.

"The ceremony of the wedding night requires not only the representative of God but also key members of the family to attend. On our side, Rufus had to attend as the groom’s brother.”

Blair’s chest heaved as she stared at Isabelle. Her face flushed as if all the blood in her body had rushed there. Over the shock, a crimson wave of humiliation washed over her. Then betrayal crashed in like a tidal wave.

Did Edmund know?

“I’m sorry to bring you such news. "

"...Are you truly sorry for me?"

Blair's fist clenched on her knee trembled slightly.

"That statement carries too clear an intent to be a mere apology."

"Intent?"

"You seek to drive a wedge between me and that man."

Other words rose to the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't reveal her suspicion of Edmund in front of Isabelle. She couldn't let Isabelle use it as a weapon.

"How unfortunate. If that's how you see it, then you seem to have misunderstood."

But this seasoned, middle-aged noblewoman didn't bat an eyelid. She brought her teacup to her lips and smiled.

"If they truly love each other, nothing anyone says should sway them."

"Your words suggest nothing but the opposite."

Blair struggled to maintain his composure under Isabelle's piercing gaze.

"You said my husband must produce an heir to formally inherit the title. So, that means I hold the key to fulfilling that condition."

"Do you love that boy?"

The abrupt question struck like lightning. Blair offered no reply, only fixed her gaze on Isabelle. Yet the cold voice continued.

"I loved William. But I regretted it bitterly."

"......"

"Loving a man consumed by ambition is bound to lead to regret."

The smile lingering at the corner of Isabelle's mouth deepened. She was speaking with absolute sincerity, not a shred of falsehood.

"Please don't follow in my footsteps, child. Those two men are eerily alike."

***

Blair rose from her seat without offering any excuse, declaring she would return to the mansion first. It was the greatest discourtesy she had ever committed, yet Isabelle showed no sign of caring.

She even extended the generosity of letting Blair take the car they had come in together. Perhaps fearing the new Duchess might faint upon hearing such shocking news.

All the way back to the duke's residence, Blair was utterly confused. She had barely managed to maintain her composure while sitting in front of Isabelle, but once she was out of her sight and alone, she had to admit it.

She was shaken. Hopelessly, with nowhere to anchor herself. Her heart was already half-broken, and she didn't even know how to pick the pieces back up. In her dizzying mind, she began to retrace the blurred memories of that night.

The first night. How could she forget that wedding night, when Liberte's custom required them to share the same bedroom? Yet Blair hadn't physically united with Edmund that night. It was a contractual arrangement. Edmund had promised not to touch her, and the bedroom was a private space for the couple alone; no one could know what happened within it.

But could she still call herself an innocent woman who knew nothing after that day? Though there was no penetration, Blair allowed him to kiss and caress any part of her body. Edmund finished that disorderly act with movements indistinguishable from intercourse.

Why? Why did she do it? How did it come to that? Everything that happened on that bed that night unfolded in the blink of an eye. It should have been a night where their hands wouldn't even brush against each other, yet they had clearly crossed a line. Why had they done it?

The strange thing was that Edmund hadn't forced anything on her. One could even say Blair had approached him first. She needed to reflect on the reason why.

Edmund, who had left the bedroom to shower in the other bathroom, had returned with a deeply darkened expression. The moment she saw the shadow cast over his face, she knew. He must have had some conversation with Isabelle. Blair felt a deep pity for him.

"Did you perhaps meet with the Duchess?"

Concerned, she asked. Edmund didn't exactly deny it, and Blair wanted to hold him. She was sure he must have been hurt.

He was always a man armed with cold detachment. It seemed less a natural disposition than armor he wore to protect himself. That’s why she believed a man like Edmund needed trust more than anyone.

“There’s a difference between figuring it out on your own and me telling you honestly.”

His voice as he said that came back to her. Facing Edmund, she could rarely read his thoughts in his eyes. All she remembered was how terribly tired he looked.

"The former might be deception, but the latter means I didn't want to deceive you."

And the sincerity Blair had added…

"Even if we're just a nominal couple, I hope we can at least become people who can trust each other. Having someone nearby you can confide in is a great source of strength."

He had said that. He had said it like that. For a moment, it seemed accepted. Yet Edmund still looked exhausted. Blair cautiously approached, asking if there was anything he could do. He only wanted to comfort him. What had he said then?

"Something you can do. There is one thing."

What did he mean by that?

"Don't hold back your voice. I want to hear more."

The sensation of his lips and fingers tracing her sensitive skin was still vivid. Edmund hadn't held her as promised, but it was safe to say he'd done everything else he could. He acted with the stubborn persistence of someone determined to draw out a woman's moans.

Only now did she think she understood. He had to keep his promise not to sleep with Blair, yet simultaneously had to provide the witnesses outside the door with proof they were husband and wife. That's why he needed the sound—that blushingly shameful sound. Ah. It was a means to deceive the witnesses. What he desired from the start wasn't comfort, but a cruel proof.

That night hadn't sprung from his true feelings. It was a performance, skillfully manipulating Blair's heart to make her move first.

Blair bit down on her lower lip and held her breath tightly. Otherwise, tears threatened to spill out in an embarrassing flood.