♡ TL: Khadija SK
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As Hazel prepared for the meeting, Theodore sat in the drawing room with Andre, Lady Easton, and Charlotte.
Perhaps because it was slightly early for a visit to another household, the Easton family members were the only ones present in the room.
“Thank you for the day of the ball,” Lady Easton said.
“It’ll be a recurring matter in the future. If you thank me every time, I might feel sorry. I merely fulfilled a nobleman’s duty.”
Theodore smiled gently. Lady Easton looked at him with relief and pushed a plate of macarons toward him.
“Our chef came from Frantz. Try one.”
Theodore wasn’t fond of sweets, but he couldn’t refuse a dessert from a chef hailing from a land of gourmands, especially with Lady Easton’s endorsement.
He hesitated, given his aversion to sweets, but then a rescuing voice came from the drawing room’s threshold:
“Mother, didn’t you say macarons are a type of sweet that varies by taste?”
Hazel appeared, wearing a deep purple dress.
It was so dark it might appear black without sunlight.
“Oh, right! Sir Theodore, do you like macarons?”
“He’s not the type to say no. You don’t like sweets, do you?”
Hazel took the macaron instead of Theodore and handed it to Andre.
Andre puffed out his cheeks and turned his head sharply, irked at Hazel treating him like a child.
Hazel stifled a laugh inwardly.
At ten years old, Andre was trying to display a grown man’s pride before Theodore, and it was endearing.
In the end, the macaron became Hazel’s.
Theodore had to choose between Lady Easton and Hazel. Naturally, he chose Hazel.
“Yes. I don’t eat them often. But if it’s a matter of Easton family pride, I’d like to try one.”
Theodore nibbled a small piece of the macaron Hazel held.
His action was so natural one might think Hazel was holding it to feed him. Thus, no one commented on it, despite their mild surprise.
“Hmm, it tastes good. Moderately sweet and smooth. A macaron like this, I could eat two of.”
Theodore chose his words carefully to avoid hurting Lady Easton’s feelings, then rose from his seat. He’d already received permission to go out with Hazel.
The two bid farewell to the Easton family members in the drawing room. Hazel prevented the family from following them outside.
“They really do overdo things.”
Theodore responded to her oft-heard remark with his usual reply:
“It’s a lovely sight. You have a family full of affection.”
His voice was slightly subdued.
Hazel turned to him, and he smiled.
His eyes, gazing at her, were moist, as if tinged with tears.
“Have you caught a cold?”
“What made you think that?”
“Your voice is lower than usual, and there’s a slight redness around your eyes. You’re ill, aren’t you?”
It was a misunderstanding on Hazel’s part.
Theodore was simply proud that she’d grown up well despite difficult circumstances and that the Easton family treated her as their true daughter.
He quickly masked his emotions.
He intended to feign ignorance until Hazel spoke of her past herself. It was his way of respecting her.
“No. I just choked up for a moment because you look especially beautiful today.”
“It seems you’re not sick. You’re still yourself.”
Hazel smiled sarcastically.
She climbed into the carriage without assistance.
They say tall people move slowly, but after several encounters, Hazel was anything but. She was as nimble as a squirrel.
Theodore settled into the carriage and signaled the waiting driver to depart.
“Where should we go?”
Theodore asked, tapping the carriage wall.
“Let’s go to Hyde Park first.”
After informing the driver of the destination, silence fell inside the carriage.
Theodore didn’t take his eyes off Hazel. The story he’d heard from Lady Michelle swirled in his mind.
Her behavior had shifted at the ball—could there be a connection to her past?
“Miss Hazel.”
Theodore broke the silence.
Hazel looked at him, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His gaze was deeper than usual for some reason.
“Speak.”
“I have a question I’d like to ask.”
Hazel nodded, indicating he could ask as he pleased.
“Was the ball at Baron Lance’s house unpleasant?”
“It wasn’t good.”
Hazel answered without deep thought.
“Ah, but don’t misunderstand. What I dislike is balls themselves, not Mr. Lance’s in particular.”
Only now did Hazel realize his question wasn’t casual, tilting her head in curiosity.
“What do you really want to ask? Can you clarify your question, Your Grace?”
Theodore took a deep breath for a moment. What he wanted to ask was simple.
He wanted to know if she’d suffered in high society due to rumors about her origins, and if that was why her expressions were dour throughout the ball.
But he couldn’t ask that directly.
Still, he tried to glean at least a small clue, thinking carefully.
“I was worried about your coldness throughout the ball. I wondered if I’d made a mistake, but I couldn’t find one. So I grew curious.”
Fortunately, Hazel didn’t object to his roundabout explanation.
“That’s understandable. To clarify, you were a wonderful partner that day. But I simply don’t like crowded places. Just… accept it as my distaste for false pretenses, and I’ll be grateful.”
Hazel ended the topic, signaling she didn’t wish to continue, then asked as if seizing the chance:
“What’s your connection to Mr. Oscar?”
“He’s my relative.”
Theodore answered instantly. His response was so quick it seemed defensive.
“Not just that. It didn’t seem like you two get along. Is my question overstepping? Based on Mr. Oscar’s behavior, I think we’ll cross paths often in the future, so I’m asking.”
Both Hazel and Theodore knew full well someone like Oscar could be easily avoided if they wished. But Hazel couldn’t forgive herself for meddling in someone’s life out of pure curiosity, so she unconsciously added another justification.
“I’ll do my utmost to ensure that doesn’t happen.”
Hazel’s eyes narrowed. Theodore’s disdain for Oscar was as clear as daylight.
If Theodore loathed him this much, Oscar’s poor character was evident.
What exactly had happened between them?
Hazel was intensely curious but had to restrain herself.
“Is this a topic you don’t want to discuss?”
She asked as if it were her final attempt.
“Accept it as me simply not liking Oscar much, and I’ll be grateful.”
Theodore concluded the conversation in the same manner as Hazel. He was indeed clever.
“Well, I can’t do anything about that. Anyway, I have something to give you.”
Hazel gestured to the seat beside him.
There was a large box she’d brought just before boarding the carriage.
“What’s this?”
“Because I’m always the one receiving gifts.”
“I haven’t given you a gift before? Is this indirect pressure to offer one? If so, I’m delighted.”
“Don’t misunderstand. It’s a return for the tie I received on the ball day.”
Hazel clarified the box’s nature, fearing Theodore might give her another gift.
“I’ll accept it gratefully. May I open it?”
“That’s what I hope.”
Hazel smiled playfully.
After Theodore lifted the box’s lid, he let out a low “Hmm,” his expression less than pleased.
“Is this your taste?”
Theodore pointed inside the box.
“My taste?”
“Do you like men who wear women’s clothes?”
Hazel’s face soured, like a crumpled letter she’d once discarded.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s fine, miss Hazel. Speak freely. I’m not like this country’s rigid men. I’ve traveled the world and met diverse people. I can’t say I’m free of bias, but I can say I don’t judge others’ tastes. Though, to be honest, it’s hard for me to keep up with this preference. Ah! Don’t misunderstand—I respect it, of course.”
Theodore pulled out the box’s contents.
It was a simple, worn women’s dress, unimaginable on an Easton daughter, its fashion terribly outdated.
Hazel pondered Theodore’s words for a moment, then let out a scoffing laugh, as if disbelieving what she’d heard.
“What’s this nonsense you’re spouting? It’s just a wrapper!”
She snatched the dress from Theodore’s hands, quickly folded it, and set it beside her.
“A strange wrapper indeed. And I guess I’m lucky too. For a moment, I considered cross-dressing. I’m somewhat pretty, aren’t I?”
Theodore grinned teasingly. Hazel nearly nodded unconsciously.
“But I couldn’t wear that dress no matter what. If I were to cross-dress, I’d pick a beautiful gown, wouldn’t I?”
He was joking.
“Sir Theodore, I told you this isn’t my taste.”
Hazel said through gritted teeth.
Theodore shrugged and turned back to the gift. This time, he pulled out a leather document pouch. It was old and heavy.
“It looks classic. I love things with the patina of time. I have a hobby of collecting old books too. Even the contents seem…”
“That’s a wrapper too.”
Hazel grabbed the pouch with both hands. At this point, Theodore couldn’t help but ask:
“Is there actually a gift for me in this box?”
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