Guidelines for the Perfect Goodbye - Chapter 173
Ulysses followed Nigel as soon as he saw him heading up to the second floor. He didn’t know the exact reason why Nigel attended the party in such a disheveled state, but it was clear that the young marquis had come to find Cecilia. That much was evident.
‘And Cecilia is currently in the second-floor study.’
Would he be able to find her? And what was he planning to do once he did?
In truth, there was no time to ponder such deep thoughts.
That man was heading toward Cecilia. His steps were leading him to the dark, confined space where he and she had stayed.
Hesitation would be a luxury.
Ulysses threw aside his usual caution and approached the landing with quick strides.
At the same time, someone on the sofa below the landing suddenly stood up.
Guinevere. His mother blocked his path.
“Mother.”
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I don’t care for the music… I thought I might rest my eyes for a moment.”
“Again? After being stuck here for so long at this grand party, you still want to hide away? I saw you just come down.”
“…”
Ulysses silently defied her and politely bowed his head. Then he tried to step around Guinevere to ascend the stairs.
“Wait…!”
She grabbed his cuff, nearly tearing it off. It was a desperate, urgent gesture.
“…Don’t go.”
Her voice, whispered privately, also revealed a clear anxiety.
“Mother.”
“Don’t go. Even if you must later, now is not the time.”
“…Must I now seek your permission to even move?”
“That’s not the issue!”
Guinevere hissed in a low voice.
Her eyes darted back and forth. There were too many eyes around.
No matter how quietly they spoke, they couldn’t ignore the idle ears of the nobles, who were always eager to meddle in others’ affairs.
Guinevere quickly covered her mouth with her fan and lowered her eyebrows.
“Oh, dear, Ulysses! How could I not understand your heart, not wanting to see your brother cause a scene!”
Her voice rose slightly, taking on a higher pitch.
“But you know as well as I do, Nigel behaves like a wild colt when he’s angry. Just leave him alone to calm down by himself upstairs!”
Watching his mother subtly criticize Nigel’s temperament in public, Ulysses frowned.
“Mother, I…”
I’m not going to soothe the young marquis. It’s just that loud places don’t suit me…
He couldn’t even get half of what he wanted to say out.
Guinevere stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear, her fan following her movements.
“Don’t do anything foolish. There is no need for you to cover up Nigel’s tantrums. His flaws should remain his alone. You must separate Rosencrantz from him completely. Do you understand?”
“I’m not particularly going to criticize his rude behavior.”
“If that’s not it, then…”
Guinevere’s eyes widened.
“You don’t mean to…”
Then she mentioned the name of the girl accompanying him.
“Cecilia?”
Ulysses’ shoulders flinched. Guinevere pressed down on his shoulder with her well-manicured hand as she continued.
“Are you planning to go to that girl?”
“…”
“I saw her go upstairs just a while ago. Were you with her? …You two didn’t do anything inappropriate, did you?”
“Mother, she is your…”
“Niece. Yes. And I’m her chaperone today.”
“…”
“So unless you want to spit on your own mother’s honor, stay on the first floor quietly until she comes down on her own.”
It was not a suggestion or a request, but an order.
Ulysses generally obeyed his mother’s words, as long as they didn’t greatly conflict with his own values.
But what if Nigel found Cecilia in the meantime?
Nigel was furious with her. Just as his mother said, Nigel was like an enraged colt. Who knows what rough treatment she might face.
…No.
The truth is, it’s not out of mere gentlemanly concern that he was worried.
‘The thought that Cecilia might be alone with a man in that dark room.’
That possibility was what bothered him.
Ulysses had been in the study with Cecilia just moments ago. He had removed her constricting clothes when she lost consciousness.
With his own hands…
It was purely a medical procedure. Even when he later helped her redress, he had avoided any inappropriate contact.
At that time, he realized anew how extraordinary his patience was. Such a wretchedly immense patience.
When his hand brushed against her bare back, when he re-tied the knots of her dress. The rustling, the provocative sounds of fabric rubbing together.
He had gritted his teeth the entire time in the darkness where Cecilia couldn’t see him.
He had clenched his jaw so hard that it still ached now.
Ulysses did not acknowledge that he was drawn to Cecilia in that way. Nor did he admit that such a base impulse was writhing within him.
It was merely the environment that led him to feel that way.
