♡ TL: Khadija SK
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“So, you’ve finally decided to choose Miss Hazel?”
Lady Michelle visited the ducal residence.
She intercepted Theodore, who was about to leave, under the pretext of having tea together.
“It’s an appointment that can be delayed, Your Grace.”
Due to Umberto’s deft response—his skilled secretary answering before Theodore could— Theodore found himself obliged to sit across from Lady Michelle.
“Aunt, it’s been a while.”
“I nearly forgot your face. When you returned to the country, I thought I’d see you often, but it seems that was a delusion of mine.”
Lady Michelle expressed her displeasure. Theodore smiled gently.
“Weren’t you the one who told me that instead of visiting the White House, I should meet a woman?”
The “White House” referred to Lady Michelle’s mansion in the capital.
It earned its nickname from her love of white, adorning the home with white marble and paint.
“So, he didn’t tell you anything?”
Lady Michelle sipped her tea, casting a fleeting glance at Theodore’s face.
Her look differed from the usual one she used to check on his health or well-being.
Theodore frowned slightly. Her question was odd.
“What piques your curiosity?”
“I asked about your decision and that family’s reaction.”
Theodore sensed in her tone an outright rejection of the Easton daughter—Hazel.
“Aunt, are you still concerned about Miss Hazel’s origins?”
“It’s a part that can’t be overlooked.”
Lady Michelle spoke as if slicing a piece of meat with a sharp knife. Theodore sighed and continued:
“My decision hasn’t changed. Miss Hazel will be the Duchess of Bernier.”
“As I expected… there’s no escaping that family either.”
Lady Michelle scoffed with a faint laugh.
“That family?”
“The Eastons. They must have welcomed you with open arms, haven’t they?”
Her words dripped with arrogance.
Michelle spoke as if Theodore’s courtship of Hazel was a boon bestowed upon the Easton family.
Ignoring the bitter feeling tightening his throat at her tone, Theodore pressed on:
“The same applies to us. If it’s not Miss Easton, then the Bernier you take pride in, Aunt, will fall into someone else’s hands.”
As Theodore said, it was the Bernier family that needed to plead here.
If Hazel didn’t marry him, per his grandfather’s will, the family and its entire fortune would pass to Oscar.
And that man, steeped in debauchery and gambling obsession, would surely squander that vast wealth in less than a decade.
“Theodore, don’t say such dreadful things. Bernier is yours forever, and in the distant future, your son will inherit it. I’ll ensure that myself.”
“That’s reassuring, Aunt. So, may I take my leave now? I have an appointment.”
Theodore requested this with a polite smile.
It was a smile capable of disarming anyone—man or woman, young or old—but this time, it failed to melt Lady Michelle’s heart.
Her features stiffened as she fought to suppress her emotions.
Though she could be stern, Lady Michelle wasn’t accustomed to treating Theodore with such coldness.
She sighed and set down her teacup.
She rubbed her arms repeatedly, as if chilled despite the warm tea.
“Aunt?”
“Theodore, what I meant to say before…”
A sudden chill swept down Theodore’s spine.
An instinctive, animalistic feeling surged within him—that hearing her words wouldn’t serve him well.
The smile faded from his face gradually.
“It’s better if I don’t hear it.”
Lady Michelle raised her brows at his firm resolve.
“Listen. No, you must listen.”
“It’s time, Aunt. I’ll visit you at the White House next time.”
Theodore checked his watch and stood, feigning busyness. Lady Michelle tried to stop him.
“Theodore, give me a moment of your time, please.”
Reluctantly, Theodore sat back on the sofa at her desperate tone.
“I can’t give you much time.”
Lady Michelle saw in Theodore’s cold reply a sharpness that ran through Bernier blood.
It was a trait she’d seen in his father and grandfather. Thus, she knew his words were serious.
She had to speak now, but her trembling lips didn’t part easily. An internal struggle raged within her.
She’d intended to tell him he must abandon the Easton girl.
She’d come resolved to do so, having steeled herself countless times.
But when the moment to speak arrived, Michelle faltered. Especially since she’d brought it up once before.
Moreover, she felt like a villain clutching Hazel’s weaknesses and shaking them.
It was a different sensation from when she’d written to Viscount Easton about Hazel’s origins.
‘Hazel didn’t choose her parents in the first place, nor is it her fault she was born a commoner…’
A flame of empathy flared within her.
But the moment she recalled the name “Bernier,” it extinguished instantly, leaving black ash behind.
Clutching her chest—where conscience, sympathy, and mercy had burned—Lady Michelle opened her mouth with difficulty:
“Miss Hazel’s origins will destroy Bernier. I can’t stand by and watch that happen. I’ve told Viscount Easton too. I said we can’t continue a relationship with that girl.”
As soon as the words left her, Lady Michelle shut her eyes tightly.
While she drowned in anxiety, a heavy silence fell across the table.
She opened her eyes cautiously.
Her gaze landed on a calm Theodore.
He sat like a painting, utterly still, staring at Lady Michelle.
The warmth that usually enveloped him, the kindness in his eyes, had vanished entirely, leaving him as cold as ice.
Her shoulders trembled at this unfamiliar side of her nephew she’d never seen before.
“Theodore, say something, please.”
“I’m surprised.”
His voice was as frigid as ice.
“Theodore, are you angry? Because I contacted Viscount Easton without your permission?”
“No, Aunt. I’m not angry with you… As I said, I’m surprised and disappointed.”
“You’re—you’re disappointed in me?”
Lady Michelle felt her heart plummet.
“Theodore, I did it for Bernier. There’s no woman who wouldn’t covet the Bernier ducal family, and if this marriage proceeds and Miss Hazel suddenly becomes Lady Bernier…”
“Aunt.”
Theodore cut off Lady Michelle’s words, which poured from her guilt, empathy, and fear.
“My disappointment was in myself. I should’ve anticipated what you’d do and stopped it, but I failed.”
Anger buried deep in Theodore’s chest erupted, and he clenched his jaw tightly.
“huh?”
Lady Michelle’s eyes widened like a startled rabbit’s, unable to grasp his words.
Theodore smiled bitterly, seeing her confusion.
“I respect your love for Bernier, Aunt. But don’t interfere in my marriage anymore. This isn’t advice from your nephew—it’s a warning from the Duke of Bernier.”
Had it been anyone but Lady Michelle trying to obstruct his marriage, Theodore wouldn’t have settled for a calm reprimand.
He’d have imposed a tangible punishment by any means.
But because it was Lady Michelle—who’d cared for him like a son after he lost his parents early—he chose to overlook her mistake this time.
Taking into account his own failure to foresee and prevent her actions.
“Do you—do you mean you’ll marry Miss Hazel no matter what? Despite knowing she’s not Viscount Easton’s true daughter? That her father was a common soldier wandering battlefields?”
“Of course.”
“My goodness! How far will your kindness stretch, son?”
Lady Michelle assumed Theodore pursued Hazel out of kindness or pity.
“Aunt, no one marries for pity. And even if such a person exists, it’s not me. I’m selfish to the core. Don’t you know how I’ve lived my life?”
Theodore chose Hazel because he admired her.
His grandfather’s will had been the starting point, but if he’d felt nothing for her, he’d never have courted her.
He wasn’t like ordinary men who married out of duty.
Since childhood, he’d had to possess what he wanted and do as he pleased.
Thus, he’d occasionally skip prayers, vanish abruptly during key family events, and abandon his council seat for long journeys.
“Theodore, you’re still young and don’t understand. What’ll happen if you marry Miss Hazel? The fingers pointed at you won’t stop wagging with gossip. You’ll bear Miss Hazel’s insults. I can’t ever watch that.”
Theodore realized once more.
He truly admired Hazel.
So much that his aunt’s words—spoken out of care for him and the family—felt like an insult to Hazel, making him want to distance himself from her temporarily.
So much that he was ready to endure the insults aimed at her alongside her, even shield her from them.
Theodore felt a strange relief with this newfound revelation.
“Aunt, let’s end this here. My heart won’t change no matter what you say.”
Lady Michelle’s face contorted.
When she came here, she’d never imagined this reaction from Theodore.
“You’ll marry Hazel in the end?”
“Yes.”
Lady Michelle bit her lips hard and shouted:
“And did that family say they’d accept you? They can’t be so shameless! Or did they agree to provide proof of her origins?”
A chill ran down the back of Theodore’s head at Lady Michelle’s words.
“You demanded proof of her origins?”
“Yes! Isn’t it Bernier’s right to demand such a thing? I didn’t ask for a dowry of millions in gold—just one document, or one witness!”
Theodore hid his pang of regret and stood.
He could no longer delay here.
“Because they’re a family with conscience, I’ll do my utmost to win them over. I’ll see you later.”
Theodore gave a slight nod in farewell.
“Theodore!”
Lady Michelle’s voice, sharp as a scream, struck Theodore’s back, but he didn’t stop.
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