Garden of May - Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Her bewildered expression was amusing. So was the way she repeated the same phrase, like someone facing immense disappointment and defeat. He had found her constant chatter annoying, but now, seeing her like this, he felt a slight…
‘A meaningless sentiment now.’
He leisurely stubbed out his cigarette in the case and walked past her. The lingering scent on his lips was momentarily bothersome, but that was all.
***
“She’s watching you again.”
At River Ross’s words, Theodore looked up from planting seedlings. He followed his subordinate’s gaze and his eyes met Vanessa’s small face. Startled at being caught, she hid herself like a surprised cat, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.
It had been a week since that day, and she had been hovering around him, keeping a certain distance. Whenever he looked up from his work, he could feel her gaze, and there she would be. Vanessa. Sometimes hiding behind a tree, sometimes from a second-story window, today at the entrance to the garden…
By now, Theodore had to admit he had underestimated her tenacity.
“Are you going to leave her be?”
Theodore shrugged at River’s question as he stood beside him.
“What else can I do? She’s my employer’s niece.”
“What about revealing your true identity? If it’s awkward to tell the lady herself, perhaps you could subtly mention it to the Count of Somerset…”
“That would be the day the old woman finds out where I am. And I’ll be dragged to the altar.”
“Do you dislike marriage?”
“I dislike the hatred, contempt, and deceit that inevitably follows.”
It was an excessively cynical perspective for a man of marriageable age. Even after hearing his clear answer, River hesitated for a long moment, as if he had more to say but couldn’t bring himself to voice it. Sensing this, Theodore turned to him.
“If you have something to say, say it.”
“Well… Even if you continue to conceal your identity, wouldn’t it be better to at least change your lodgings?”
“Lodgings? Why?”
“It weighs on my mind that you’re using the storage shed as your quarters. No matter how neatly you’ve organized it, the rose garden itself has been largely untouched. Wouldn’t it be better if you used my uncle’s cabin, and my uncle and I used the shed?”
“Your uncle had back surgery last week. You want me to take a patient’s bed and sleep comfortably by myself?”
“Everything must be inconvenient for you.”
“It’s manageable. Compared to a ship’s cabin, it’s spacious, and it’s even on solid ground.”
“Staying at a nearby villa…”
River swallowed his foolish words at his superior’s disapproving look. If he set foot in any of the Batenberg family villas or estates, the Duke’s whereabouts would be splashed across the headlines of tomorrow’s newspapers.
In that sense, Gloucester in the south, with no connection to his family, was the best choice for Theodore. The Count who was once a great nobleman but now reduced to the point of being unable to set foot in the capital. A Count who had been ostracized from his family and expelled from society decades ago, and hadn’t even set foot in the capital since.
A backwater where everything was old-fashioned, where the only newspaper arrived once a week, brought by the postman from the bustling town next door.
There were a few minor inconveniences, but… in this day and age, it was an incomparably excellent location.
Sometimes, there was joy in a simple life. Moving his body, washing, eating, sleeping, waking with the sunrise… Perhaps even the old woman would welcome her grandson’s wholesome escape, given her particularly strong aversion to the young nobles frequenting social clubs.
Theodore patted his loyal subordinate’s shoulder encouragingly and walked towards the peach tree that had begun to bear fruit. They spent some time in comfortable silence, thinning out the small, insect-ridden, or unevenly grown fruits.
Growing fruit-bearing trees in a garden was considered undignified, but this family was already far below standard in every way.
The famous paintings hanging in the hallways were all forgeries, the carpets were of inferior quality and rough, and even the family crest, which should have been cast in gold, was a cheap imitation mixed with copper.
The silverware, which should have been managed by the butler, seemed to have been sold off long ago. At this point, growing their own fruit was hardly a blemish.
In this house, there was only one thing that could be considered genuine. Lady Vanessa, who, since the age of six or seven, had captivated all of Ingram with her pretty face.
“Oh?”
At River’s sudden exclamation, he instinctively looked up. The ‘genuine’ thing was limping towards them.
