♡ TL: Khadija SK
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Lady Easton pressed her lips inward, trying to suppress the laughter that threatened to burst forth.
Even after a second glance and reconsideration, Theodore was the perfect match for Hazel.
The looks, the intellect, the wealth, and the kindness!
Lady Easton’s cheeks quivered as she imagined Hazel as Duchess Bernier.
The phrase “smoked pigeon” echoed in her ears repeatedly. Had that phrase always been so sweet, stirring such delight?
Hazel noticed the odd signs on her mother’s face and lightly pinched Theodore’s arm.
“Enough with those formal compliments. My ears ache from hearing them so much.”
Hazel felt embarrassed by his praise. Theodore nearly added that he was sincere but stopped to avoid embarrassing her further.
They offered their respects to Lady Easton and walked toward the waiting carriage.
“Very well. But know just one thing. Today, I’m your smokehouse whether you like it or not. What do you think—am I a good smokehouse?”
Theodore stood before the carriage and spread his arms in a dramatic flourish.
Hazel scrutinized him carefully for the first time.
Today, Theodore looked as refined as he had during his first visit to the Easton home.
His soft blond hair was meticulously combed back. Thanks to this, his almond-shaped eyes, high nose, and rosy lips stood out prominently.
Seeing his sharp, distinct features offered a refreshing sensation to the eyes.
Theodore wore an elegant black tuxedo. Compared to his previous attire, this outfit was simple.
Yet, thanks to this understated style—undoubtedly expensive—his handsome face shone even more.
“Has your taste in clothing changed?”
Hazel asked.
Theodore looked good in his simple attire, but what truly suited him were ornate, luxurious garments. This was a purely objective assessment.
“I matched my outfit to my partner. Don’t I look good?”
Hazel glanced at her plain dress and realized her oversight.
Just as Theodore had considered his partner’s attire, she should have thought of him and chosen her dress accordingly.
“Next time I ask someone to escort me, I’ll make sure our outfits coordinate.”
“No need to trouble yourself with that.”
“You say that because you look handsome in anything, don’t you?”
“That sounds like a compliment to my looks. Am I right?”
Hazel raised an eyebrow playfully.
It was the first time she’d complimented a man outside her family, and specifically about his appearance.
“I’m pleased. Since I look handsome, can I ask for something?”
“What is it?”
“Will you accept this?”
Theodore extended a small box.
Hazel swallowed unconsciously.
The box’s size reminded her of something from the past.
“Don’t worry. It’s not a ring.”
Hazel opened the box with a skeptical look.
Inside was an antique brooch adorned with a blue sapphire.
It was so beautiful that Hazel, who usually cared little for accessories, opened her mouth slightly in admiration.
“It’ll look stunning with your dress.”
“Are you giving it to me? It looks expensive.”
“Didn’t I show you my asset list before? I could easily buy a brooch like this. But I won’t lie—I didn’t purchase it; I brought it from home. It’s an ownerless brooch.”
Theodore added that it might have belonged to a former Duchess Bernier.
This clarification made it even more awkward.
As Hazel frowned at the brooch, Theodore said:
“Isn’t it wasteful to leave a beautiful woman and a fine brooch unused?”
Hazel laughed lightly and replied:
“It seems more wasteful for a handsome man not to wear a proper tie.”
“Then allow me a moment.”
Theodore suddenly reached toward the carriage.
Hazel found herself trapped between the carriage wall and his chest, clutching the brooch box tightly and crossing her arms over her chest.
A fresh, heavy yet pure scent wafted from him, freezing Hazel as she stared at his chest inches from her nose.
Then, as quickly as he’d approached, he stepped back.
Hazel finally lifted her eyes.
Theodore held a tie in his hand, the same color as the brooch he’d given her, with a silver flower embroidered on it mirroring the brooch’s design.
At first glance, the two seemed a matching pair.
If Hazel wore the brooch and he the tie, they’d look like lovers to everyone.
“Shouldn’t we avoid wasting ourselves together?”
Theodore’s hand hovered near Hazel’s face before retreating.
Hazel glanced at Lady Easton over Theodore’s shoulder.
She was still vexed about the gray dress, puffing her cheeks as she watched them.
It wasn’t that the dress didn’t suit Hazel; rather, Lady Easton felt frustrated that Hazel appeared the only one in plain attire.
Hazel understood her mother’s feelings but hadn’t wavered from deeming the red dress entirely out of the question.
But perhaps to mend her spirits…
Hazel swiftly snatched the tie from Theodore’s hand.
“Sir Theodore, since you usually do so many good deeds, you can do me one more favor today.”
She chose the tie over the brooch.
Hazel unfolded it and draped it over her shoulders like a shawl, instantly brightening her face.
“Or wear the brooch yourself. Nothing’s finer than a handsome man paired with a luxurious jewel.”
Hazel placed the brooch box in Theodore’s empty hand as he looked at her curiously, then stepped aside to face Lady Easton.
Just adding the tie—made of costly silk and adorned with gold embroidery—completely transformed Hazel’s aura.
She went from a quiet spinster to a mature woman blending intellect and elegance.
Only then did Lady Easton’s puffed cheeks return to normal.
But her clenched jaw remained, perhaps because easing her anger too quickly might bruise her pride. Still, that tension wouldn’t last long.
Hazel performed an elegant noble curtsy to her mother.
Lady Easton’s eyes widened, then she burst into laughter, unable to resist. Hazel laughed playfully too.
It was a lighthearted skit played out before Theodore’s eyes, and Hazel’s confident smile resembled that of an actress who’d successfully concluded her performance.
Theodore saw a brilliant beam pierce the dull yellow glow of the streetlamp, as if spotlighting the stage’s main character, falling solely on Hazel as she shone beneath it.
“Thank you. Because of you, the ball will be enjoyable.”
Hazel slipped gracefully into the carriage.
Theodore, momentarily stunned, smiled as he heard her dress rustle against the carriage.
It was a charming skit he regretted seeing alone, yet a smile he wanted to keep in his memory for himself.
As Theodore moved to escort Charlotte from the entrance, he recalled his secretary’s report:
“They say she’s cold-blooded, as if you wouldn’t find a drop of blood in her if you pricked her with a needle. Dull, like a stone—that’s the men’s assessment. Some say she’s a rigid wax doll.”
The picture his secretary painted of Hazel was of an old nun in a cloister, expressionless, speaking only what was proper.
But the Hazel Theodore met was lively, adeptly steering conversations, and laughed often.
‘Has everyone gone collectively blind?’
If not, where had this strange assessment of Hazel come from?
Theodore kept his questions to himself as he escorted Charlotte.
***
The Bernier family’s ducal carriage stopped precisely in front of the Lance residence.
“There are a lot of people.”
Despite the entry time having passed, a fair number of people lingered outside the door, yet to enter the hall.
Hazel’s expression darkened at the sight of the crowd.
“Does the crowd bother you?”
Theodore enjoyed balls, banquets, and dinner gatherings.
He relished friendly encounters, cheerful music, delicious food, and light conversation.
The eager gazes from girls hoping he’d ask them to dance were slightly irksome, but when he resolved to fulfill a noble’s duty, there was little he couldn’t endure.
He saw the subtle competition for him as a sort of match, chuckling when he thought of it that way.
Theodore could enjoy these gatherings easily because he hadn’t yet taken high society’s deeper goal—marriage—seriously.
Keeping his distance made it feel like a grand play.
‘No, a match.’
A match toward the goal of marriage.
Theodore was the prize here.
Not a warrior or racehorse vying for the trophy, but the trophy itself.
So it had to be fun.
Theodore mused that if his friends heard this, they’d point at him, calling him arrogant and insufferable.
“It’ll be a good time. Several of my friends agreed to attend today. If it doesn’t bother you, I’d like to introduce you to them.”
“I refuse.”
Hazel declined instantly. Her voice was colder than usual.
Theodore looked at her belatedly, aided by the faint moonlight slipping through the carriage window.
Was it the cold moonlight’s effect?
Theodore didn’t sense the gentle demeanor he’d seen in her at the Easton home.
Her face was expressionless and chilly, her straight back rigid.
“Miss Hazel, are you feeling unwell?”
“No. Let’s get out.”
Hazel glanced at the door.
Though it was his carriage and getting out then was natural, her words felt to Theodore like a dismissal.
He sensed an invisible line drawn between them, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
Did Hazel truly hate balls? She’d clearly said she’d go.
‘Then maybe she changed her mind?’
Theodore thought, unaware that Hazel rarely altered her decisions once made:
“Shall we return to the Easton home?”
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