Chapter 32
While Edgar emptied his plate with a healthy appetite, I quietly sipped the water in my wine glass.
“When’s the next gathering?”
He wiped his lips with a napkin after finishing the last bite of lamb, then asked casually.
“You’re planning to bring your sister again, right?”
“You mean my half-sister?”
I threw his own words right back at him.
The sudden mention of Isla seemed suspicious.
“You two should try getting along.”
Either unaware I was mimicking him or pretending not to notice, he had the nerve to offer a fatherly bit of advice.
“She’s about the right age to get engaged. You should look out for her—as her older sister.”
Behind Edgar’s handsome face, I saw the shadow of Lady Rosette.
Was tonight’s secret meeting with her and not Elodie?
“Isla’s marriage is Lady Rosette’s concern.”
“You know her family isn’t in a good position. And with Count Rosette gone, it won’t be easy for her to arrange a proper match on her own.”
In aristocracy, marriage was a contract between families, and men were the ones who represented the family.
Even if a match wasn’t ideal, if the groom showed potential, the deal could still go through.
By that logic, Isla’s situation wasn’t great.
There was no male heir to carry on the Rosette name.
So naturally, a flock of opportunists would swarm in, dreaming of marrying Isla and becoming the next Count.
Established families wouldn’t want their sons to marry into her line—so while there might be many suitors, they’d all be hollow prospects.
Still, Edgar’s comment about Lady Rosette’s family being in bad shape was new information.
“They’re still her daughter and granddaughter. I’m sure Lady Rosette’s family will step in to help.”
Now that her background had come up, I realized something odd—Cecilia’s diary never mentioned any grandparents.
There were no aunts, uncles, or cousins either. Not a single relative came up.
Cecilia’s world consisted solely of Count Rosette and her mother.
And when they both left her, that world collapsed.
It was the perfect example of why you should never build your world around a person.
“The House of Estas is finished. Whatever else she’s done, Lady Rosette made a smart decision by distancing herself from them.”
It was a clue about her origins.
The Baron House of Estas. Baronies typically relied on the backing of high-ranking nobles.
They earned income by managing their patrons’ wealth and estates.
“You should reconcile with her family—for Isla’s sake.”
My tone was flat, and Edgar threw down his napkin in irritation.
“Countess Linton. I hope you haven’t forgotten that all the wealth and honor you have came from me.”
So that was it. Stop talking back and do as you’re told.
Funny, considering I suspected that whatever fortune the Linton family had was built thanks to Cecilia’s dowry—not Edgar’s efforts.
“Then why are you so eager to share that wealth and honor with Lady Rosette?”
Edgar used to openly look down on her.
Wasn’t he the one who always tried to avoid dealing with her?
“Don’t talk back to me.”
His annoyed tone instantly reminded me of the time he kicked the vanity.
I lowered my eyes to my plate.
I took a deep breath and told myself not to let fear win.
My birth parents never hit each other, but when they fought, objects flew. Even without bruises, it was terrifying for a child.
Even when it was just Mom and me, nothing in the house ever lasted long.
Her outbursts came at random. You never knew when or why.
Maybe I had deserved it. But Cecilia hadn’t. She had done nothing to deserve how Edgar treated her.
He had no right.
“Marchioness Federica’s circle isn’t big, but gaining her favor comes with significant value.”
Edgar gestured to the servant to refill his wine glass.
“Your sister isn’t stupid. If you just give her the opportunity, she’ll handle it well.”
“I didn’t know you were so worried about Isla.”
“Your side of the family’s a mess, so someone has to step in. You could at least pretend to be grateful.”
Strictly speaking, Lady Rosette wasn’t really my family.
“I mean no offense, but even if you insult them, I wouldn’t be in a position to complain.”
“Your pride’s getting out of hand. Is it because Marchioness Federica’s backing you?”
It was Edgar who was desperate to win the marchioness’s favor.
Coming home early for dinner every night, trying to appear like a devoted husband—it was all part of his image management.
He was clever.
Not wise—but sharp and fast-thinking, I’ll give him that.
Even though he stepped out halfway through the dinner party, he noticed that Josephine wasn’t impressed with him.
If Josephine hadn’t liked me, he wouldn’t have cared at all.
But through Josephine, I had formed a connection with Marchioness Federica. And for Edgar, a man born with a deep instinct to grovel before the powerful, that was unfortunate.
His image as “a good man who lovingly takes care of his unwell wife” was about to collapse.
I didn’t look like a cherished wife to anyone. Nor did I appear to be a respected lady of the house.
A hostess’s authority came from her husband’s recognition. The elderly noblewomen, who had managed their households for decades, would see right through me.
Edgar had done the math.
Now that I had secured a place beside Marchioness Federica, he needed to make the most of it. To do that, he had to convince them that he was the victim. That must have been the conclusion he came to.
No matter how pale or sad I looked, as long as Edgar played the part of the devoted husband, I would seem like an ungrateful child—throwing tantrums despite having everything.
“You’re the one who insisted on becoming the Countess of Linton,” Edgar said, firm and cold.
“So if you’re going to do it, do it right. Always act with the Linton family in mind.”
In other words, keep my mouth shut around Marchioness Federica.
“I never say anything,” I replied. “But I can’t control what they see or feel, can I?”
With a sharp clink, Edgar set down his glass.
“That.”
He ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair, revealing his forehead briefly before it disappeared again.
“That’s the problem. That’s exactly why I can’t trust you.”
Frustrated, he unbuttoned the top of his shirt, loosening his collar. Then, out of nowhere, he said something completely absurd.
“Maybe we should have a child.”
“…What?”
I couldn’t begin to imagine the line of thought that brought him to that conclusion.
And honestly, I didn’t want to.
“If we had a child, maybe you’d finally start thinking of the Linton family as your priority.”
“We already talked about this.”
I struggled to keep my voice calm.
“If Miss Elodie has a child and you want to register it under your name, I won’t stop you.”
“That’s pointless. It wouldn’t even be mine. And I can’t expect you to care for it sincerely.”
While I was planning how to take back the inheritance and end this marriage, this man was thinking of shackling me down with a child.
“I’m considering coming to your room tonight.”
Disgust swept through me. Just the thought of him touching me made my skin crawl.
But worse was the way he used intimacy like a threat.
It wasn’t a request—it was a warning. Do what I say, or I’ll make this even harder.
No matter which path I chose, I’d lose, and he’d win. That was the game.
“Josephine said she’s hosting a boat party next month. I’ll ask if I can bring Isla.”
“Make it happen.”
Edgar smirked and stood from his seat.
“I’ll be in the study until midnight. Don’t bother me afterward—I’m going to bed.”
Of course, after midnight, he would sneak out to see Elodie.
He couldn’t openly date her anymore, but I wondered—was Elodie really happy with that kind of treatment?
“Give Miss Elodie my regards.”
Edgar paused in the doorway, then turned around.
“What did you say?”
“Tell her I feel sorry for her.”
He stormed back across the room.
“Who are you to feel sorry for El?”
“Must be hard,” I said coolly. “Being someone’s hidden mistress.”
“At least El is loved. Unlike you. You’re just an empty shell—you don’t get to talk like that.”
But he wasn’t really angry for Elodie’s sake.
He was furious because I had exposed the truth—called him what he was.
Because no matter how much he justified it, sacrificing his lover for the sake of status was selfish. Cowardly. He might pretend it was all rational, but deep down, he felt it too.
So he had to believe it was love. That he truly loved her. That enduring hardship together proved it.
Even though Elodie was the only one enduring anything.
“You think you’re the only victim?” he snapped. “I’m the one who paid your dowry. I’m the one who took the loss to honor Count Rosette’s will.”
“You did.”
I didn’t argue.
“And I’ll repay the debt.”
“That’s all I needed to hear.”
Satisfied, Edgar turned and left the dining room.
Repay the debt. I repeated the words to myself.
I would reclaim what was stolen and free him in full—from both Cecilia and me.
I pushed aside the barely touched plate and stood up.
Then I called for the head maid.
“Bring the ledgers to my study.”
As I left the dining room, I caught a glimpse of Sarah’s braid disappearing around the corner. She had likely been eavesdropping the entire time.
I muttered under my breath, “Lady Rosette will be thrilled.”
Isla was going to Josephine’s boat party, and I’d just had a fight with Edgar. What better news could she hope for?
As I walked toward the study, the maids I passed all bowed respectfully.
And yet, the thought struck me—no matter how this ended, even if I succeeded in escaping Edgar and living on my own, I would always feel like a stranger in this world.
No matter how well I imitated Cecilia, no matter how righteous my revenge might be—my nature hadn’t changed.
No one understood me before. No one would understand me now.
Beasts recognize their own.
Ricardo’s bitter voice echoed in my memory.
He’d said that in Marchioness Federica’s Garden.
I shook my head.
Even if he and I were the same, even that wasn’t enough to truly understand one another.
Just like I’d seen through Ricardo and still chosen to turn away—he too would eventually grow tired and leave.
