♡ TL: Khadija SK
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“I…”
Theodore fell silent.
It felt as though something clogged his throat, as if his mind had clouded over, as if he’d momentarily lost the ability to express himself in words…
It was an utterly foreign sensation for him.
Theodore was a natural orator.
He’d inherited an exceptional gift for speech and writing from his parents, honed since childhood while navigating his temperamental grandfather.
Thus, it was exceedingly rare for his words to falter mid-conversation. One might say it had almost never happened. That’s why he felt so disconcerted.
Theodore quickly analyzed why he’d stumbled.
It stemmed from the contradiction between what he wanted to say and his beliefs.
Until now, Theodore had lived according to what he’d learned, believed, and resolved.
He was a man consistent within and without. That consistency had always fueled his confidence.
But what he wanted to say to Hazel now clashed with the course of his life.
He’d wanted to say that there could be no friendship between a man and a woman, that if that man claimed to be a friend, he must harbor ulterior motives, and thus she should take him along next time she met him.
‘I’m truly a wretched man.’
Theodore sighed deeply.
“I’ll clarify something, Your Grace. The person I met is technically a man, but he’s not a man to me.”
Theodore wiped his face with his hand and looked at Hazel.
She was opening and closing her lips repeatedly.
“There are no feelings between me and that friend. Saying this makes it sound like we’re true lovers, but regardless, there’s nothing for you to worry about, Your Grace. I assure you.”
Hazel’s face flushed.
If one dissected their exchange, it resembled a lovers’ spat.
It was an unnecessary conversation for an agreed-upon relationship.
Theodore’s jealousy over Nick, her words akin to justifications to soothe him—all of it was extraneous.
Was this, too, an extension of their charade?
‘No, it isn’t. I’m the one who wants this.’
Hazel wanted to reassure Theodore.
She didn’t want him, of all people, to misunderstand her bond with Nick.
Hazel was sincere.
Yet she didn’t grasp why she felt this way. She’d long grown accustomed to being misunderstood by others.
‘Will he believe me?’
Hazel raised her clear eyes to meet Theodore’s.
“I trust you, Miss Hazel. But at least tell me who you’re meeting. I’m worried.”
Theodore restrained his base jealousy well.
He still longed to ask who’d made her smile, but he held back. Seeing Hazel flustered didn’t sit right with him.
His trembling breaths gradually steadied.
“Miss Hazel, let’s return to the carriage.”
He smiled and extended his arm.
***
Theodore was an utterly devoted suitor.
He rescued Hazel from Charlotte’s tedious, repetitive suitors.
Hazel didn’t mind wandering through cafes and date spots she cared little for under the guise of courtship, but it was far preferable to being surrounded by Charlotte’s suitors.
Listening in the flower-scented drawing room to love songs that clanged like iron and cryptic poems made her nauseous.
In those moments, she’d think of Theodore.
Their sharp-witted conversations spanning society, the delicious tea he’d recommended, the long museum corridor they’d strolled together.
It offered her some relief.
Suddenly, Hazel regretted the contract limiting them to ten meetings.
She should’ve demanded to see him daily until Charlotte chose her fiancé!
Theodore always appeared just as Hazel was on the verge of fleeing the drawing room.
When she shifted in her seat repeatedly, prompting Lady Easton to pinch her thigh for her lack of manners, or when the awful love songs, poems, and praise for Charlotte made the air unbearable, Theodore emerged—not as a lover, but as a savior—inviting her out of the drawing room.
Thus, Hazel sometimes wondered if he was a suitor or a rescuer.
Regardless, Hazel was incredibly busy these days.
Between reading, writing, and translating in her spare time, she also had to appease Lady Easton, respond appropriately to Charlotte’s suitors, and go on dates with Theodore.
“Sister, are you awake?”
Thanks to this, hearing her little sister’s sweet complaints came just before sunrise, at dawn.
Hearing Charlotte’s soft voice from behind the door, Hazel closed the manuscript she’d been working on and slipped it into her desk drawer.
“Come in, Charlotte.”
As Hazel vigorously rubbed ink from her palm, she spoke toward the door. The sound of it opening cautiously followed.
“Sister!”
Charlotte knew this was bedtime, so she appeared in pajamas, clutching her pillow.
“You stayed up this late?”
“How could I? Beauties sleep early. I woke up from the wind and couldn’t fall back asleep.”
Hazel turned her head toward the window.
It rattled from the gusts.
She’d thought the darkness was due to the early hour, but the sky was thick with black clouds.
“It looks like rain today.”
Charlotte muttered sadly. In contrast, Hazel’s face brightened.
If the weather was bad, there’d be fewer guests, the streets would be quiet—an ideal day for reading!
“You’re thinking about books again, aren’t you? Not today. Today, you’re mine.”
Charlotte hugged Hazel’s waist tightly. They became one and flopped onto the bed.
Charlotte was smaller than Hazel.
It was the result of inheriting Viscount Easton’s barely-above-average blood and Lady Easton’s below-average stature.
Hazel was the only one in the family to exceed the average.
As for Andre, he was still young, his future uncertain.
Charlotte buried her head in Hazel’s lap.
Hazel instinctively began running her hand over her soft, tousled hair.
She meant to stroke it gently, but Charlotte’s tossing in sleep tangled her strands, tripping Hazel’s fingers.
“Ow, Sister!”
“We need camellia oil. I told you to sleep with a nightcap. Why don’t you wear it?”
Hazel began scolding, and Charlotte covered her ears.
“You know even if you come, you won’t hear anything nice. So why come instead of staying quietly in your room?”
“We haven’t talked lately at all.”
“Because of the men courting you.”
“No, because of Duke Theodore. He’s always taking you out. So when will you get engaged? Have you held hands? Hugged? Or, Sister, have you gone further…”
“Charlotte! There are limits to what one can say!”
Hazel imagined what might’ve been said about her and Theodore in the Easton household.
Perhaps an engagement, then marriage, maybe even how many children they’d have.
Charlotte giggled playfully.
Her pure, unaffected laugh warmed the slightly chilly air.
Hazel—who’d momentarily seen Charlotte as an unwelcome guest—felt this dawn was lovely too, and she gently rubbed Charlotte’s back.
She could cut sleep to finish her remaining manuscripts and skip afternoon tea for translating.
As Hazel savored the peace, Charlotte suddenly lifted her head slightly from her lap and said in a serious tone:
“Father’s coming soon.”
“Oh! That’s wonderful!”
Viscount Easton had been in the countryside due to the parish priest’s death, handling the priest’s family affairs and hiring a new one.
While visiting neglected relatives and hearing the tenants’ concerns, his stay stretched beyond his plans.
Even without Viscount Easton, the Easton family fared well.
Lady Easton loved her children exceptionally.
Hazel was wise and cared for her siblings well, while Charlotte and Andre respected their mother and elder sister.
Still, a father’s absence left an unconscious void.
“Andre will be thrilled.”
“I’m happy too. You are too, right?”
“Of course!”
Everyone missed Viscount Easton.
“A family should be together, naturally. But, Sister, there’s something I want to tell you beforehand…”
Hazel realized the upcoming words were the real reason for Charlotte’s visit.
“Speak freely.”
She meant Charlotte shouldn’t make her ask twice for what she’d say anyway.
Charlotte pursed her lips like a duck, then revealed what she’d heard from Lady Easton.
“Father opposes your marriage to Duke Theodore.”
It was something Hazel never expected.
She shot up. Charlotte rose too, facing her.
“You told Father?”
“Not me—Mother.”
“Father opposes my relationship with Sir Theodore?”
Hazel had assumed Viscount Easton would be delighted.
Not just him—any parent with a daughter should rejoice. Theodore was a coveted son-in-law.
Why, then, did her father dislike him?
Hazel had no intention of marrying, but she grew curious about what occupied Viscount Easton’s mind.
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