The Countess's Body Has Disappeared - Chapter 54

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 54
Yes, that’s what it looks like.
Invisible words seemed to write themselves across Esmeralda’s smiling face. As the atmosphere grew awkwardly strained, Davion cleared his throat loudly, gathering himself.
“But in these sorts of gatherings, is it normal to just… keep talking like this, just the two of us?”
“When family is present, it’s usually called a Meet the Family Gathering rather than a Blind Date. This is my fifth time in such a situation, and compared to the gentlemen I’ve met before, you’re by far the most suitable match. I’m quite fond of handsome men, you see.”
“I heard you work as an actress.”
“It’s only because my parents finally gave their permission. Even if I were to marry you, I have no intention of giving up my acting career.”
No pretense about her. That wasn’t entirely unwelcome. At least it saved him the trouble of speaking in roundabouts.
“Well then, if I may be direct—there’s something I need to tell you.”
When Davion rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together, Esmeralda—who had been examining her own fingernails since entering the Parlor—lit up for the first time, her eyes brightening. The thought that she might harbor deeper feelings for this union, despite her casual dismissal of it, made his chest tighten with unease.
“I appreciate the effort that went into arranging this meeting, but I have no intention of marrying anytime soon.”
“My, is it perhaps my continued acting that troubles you?”
“It would have been the same regardless of who walked through that door.”
Men always want to delay marriage, don’t they? Perhaps you believe wives and children are shackles that bind your freedom?”
“That’s not it. I simply…”
But Davion was forced to close his mouth abruptly at the sudden knock that sounded at the door.
Esmeralda, who had been watching him with bewilderment at his sudden loss of words, raised her voice instead.
“Come in!”
After permission was granted, the door opened after a few seconds. The light clatter of a cart and the gentle patter of feet on carpet drew steadily closer.
In the meantime, Davion had been staring at the edge of the table, searching for the right words to follow with.
He couldn’t tell Esmeralda about Cecilia’s existence just yet. Should he simply say he had a lover? But if that only sparked more curiosity…
As his thoughts tangled upon themselves, Esmeralda took the first teacup and began to speak.
“But the Duchess seemed to have different ideas than you. Before you’re dragged to more such gatherings, why not meet a few more times? The more you know each other, the more your thoughts might change.”
The maid then slid a teacup in front of Davion as well.
“I intend to persuade Mother, one way or another…”
His words trailed off gradually.
A pale, delicate, achingly familiar hand rested against the teacup on the table. Davion’s head snapped up in an instant.
Cecilia was staring at him with a blank, dazed expression.
She slowly averted her gaze. Setting down the teacup, she hurriedly clenched her trembling hand into a fist to hide it.
Davion saw the rims of Cecilia’s eyes flushing crimson. His mind went utterly white.
‘Why… are you here…’
Esmeralda blew on her hot tea and drained the cup in one gulp. Then she tapped the teacup with a silver spoon, calling to Cecilia.
“Here, could you bring water instead of tea? I’m sorry, my throat’s parched.”
But Cecilia’s consciousness had departed to a distant place and could not hear it.
So the man I’ve been fond of all this time…
…is the Young Master, the Duchess’s second son?
“Excuse me.”
“I, yes, just a moment. Just a moment…”
Only after Esmeralda tugged at her hem did Cecilia snap back to awareness and hastily seize the pitcher of ice water. But her hands trembled so violently that she poured the water across the table in a torrent.
The ice water cascaded down Esmeralda’s stockings. Struck suddenly by the cold liquid, she cried out in alarm and reflexively drew her legs up.
Cecilia, equally startled, fell to her knees in front of Esmeralda in a panic. She frantically grabbed her apron and began wiping away the water.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m terribly sorry. Um, really, I—”
She gasped with open mouth, turning back toward Davion. His face had gone completely white; he sat rigid as a taxidermied thing, his gaze fixed unseeing on empty space.
Tears rolled slowly down Cecilia’s cheeks. Her hands went limp and fell to the floor, and Esmeralda gently lifted her by the shoulders, soothing her with a soft voice.
“Don’t cry. It’s all right—I’ll tell Mother my hand slipped.”
“It’s just that…”
“You don’t need to bring the water. You must have been frightened—go on now.”
Black spots bloomed at the edges of Cecilia’s vision. Gripping her skirts, her faltering feet stepping backward felt as though they belonged to someone else.
Davion twisted quickly at the waist, turning as if to catch her. At the same moment, Esmeralda pulled out her handkerchief and wiped her damp leg, speaking brightly.
“So, what do you think of my suggestion just now? Shall we see each other a few more times?”
Esmeralda’s cheerful voice grazed Cecilia’s ears. As she stepped out and closed the Parlor door behind her, a warm silence broken only by birdsong enfolded her.
Cecilia, still unsteady, managed only a few steps before her back slid down the wall and she sank to the floor.
She stared at nothing, conjuring Blake’s face in her mind. Then Davion’s. And then a hollow laugh burst from her lips.
How could she not have seen something so obvious…
They were, to anyone’s eye, identical in appearance—like a parent and child hewn from the same mold.
* * *
Birds perched on every branch wove a sweet harmony into the blue sky. Along the mountain breeze drifting down the foothill, the green of the field rippled in waves.
Against the current of the softly murmuring Stream, a white-haired woman climbed the slope with determined steps, a Laundry Basket in her arms.
A man pursued her from behind, breathing hard.
“Cecilia!”
Thick beads of sweat traced down the man’s neck. In his wrinkled grey suit and tie hanging askew, he cut a sorrier figure than the woman in the maid’s dress.
“Cecilia! Wait, just listen to me for a moment!”
But Cecilia’s hurried footsteps showed no sign of slowing.
Davion barely caught up to her, seizing her hand in desperation.
“Cecilia, please—talk to me.”
She wrenched her hand from his grip without mercy. Then she spun around, breathing hard.
“Did you enjoy yourself?”
She hurled the words at him like an accusation.
“Did deceiving me amuse you?”
Her eyes blazed with such heat that Davion trembled, his words dying in his throat. He had no excuse. She was right—he had deceived her.
Cecilia gave a hollow, bitter laugh and let the laundry basket fall onto the grass. Her limbs shook as though she might shatter at any moment. Anger? Contempt?
No. Shame.
“This was all a game to you, wasn’t it? And here I was, foolish enough to dream alone, thinking I was happy!”
“No, that’s not it. I wanted to grow closer to you. I never meant to deceive you. I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please, believe me.”
“Don’t come near me!”
She shoved him roughly in the chest, her voice breaking into a cry.
Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, still bearing the traces of the ones before. She bit back the sobs threatening to break free, pressing her knuckles to her mouth, then turned to Davion—who stood frozen, barely breathing—and pleaded with raw desperation.
“You’re a young master raised with every comfort, so maybe it doesn’t matter if you’re exposed. But I’m here caring for my sick grandmother. If the lady of the house finds out about us, she’ll throw us both out onto the street! So please, don’t follow me!”
Her jaw clenched, Cecilia wiped her tears with fierce determination, gathered the laundry basket back into her arms, and turned to leave with long, hurried strides.
Her relentless pace faltered only once. With her small back still turned to the stunned Davion, she cried out bitterly.
“And besides—you’re not even my relative!”
With that, the last dam of her sorrow burst.
She disappeared from his sight, crying so hard her voice shattered, wailing into the distance. Even after she vanished from view, Davion stood rooted to the spot like stone, his head bowed.
A sharp, bittersweet ache traced his nose and burned its way to his eyes.
‘Cecilia…’
He too felt the desperate urge to cry aloud.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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