Guidelines for the Perfect Goodbye - Chapter 216
Logan, now, was nowhere to be seen. Instinctively, Cecilia glanced around. When she saw Caroline talking down to Casey with an air of self-importance, she dropped the search.
“……”
Her throat felt dry. She stared at her empty glass for a moment before moving. Placing the empty glass on a servant’s tray, she reached for a fresh one—when suddenly, her wrist was seized.
“……!”
A man cloaked in thick brown velvet, reminiscent of something from medieval times, dragged her into a quiet, dim hallway. She struggled to pull her arm free, but it was futile.
“What… what do you think you’re doing?”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
The familiar voice caused her brows to furrow involuntarily.
Peeking from under the cloak, his hair was just as eye-catching as her fiancé’s. Cecilia quickly identified him.
“…Sir Nigel.”
The man guided her behind a column, pulling off his cloak to reveal himself fully. Flames practically burned in her line of sight.
“Did you come here to have fun?”
“……”
“If you plan on just drinking and leaving, you’d better say so now. But you should be ready for the consequences of wasting my time.”
Unlike the other guests, he wore no mask. Instead, he used his cloak to hide half his face. Cecilia gave him a quick, skeptical look up and down, raising her lips into a faint sneer.
“Didn’t you hear it was a masquerade?”
“What, and pretend to be some medieval peddler like you with that pitiful mask? Ridiculous.”
Medieval peddler? Her mask was inspired by portraits of 16th-century princesses—hardly something that could be mistaken for medieval or peddler-like. Cecilia shook her head.
“Just because a mask is lacking doesn’t mean a cloak looks any better.”
“At least I don’t blend in with the fools in the ballroom like you do.”
“The theme is a masquerade. Whatever your intentions, the least you could do is show proper decorum for the event.”
“Whatever. Isn’t it enough just to cover your face? A cloak works just as well.”
Not worth replying to—obstinate and unruly as ever.
But tonight, she needed his brash confidence.
“I just greeted the Heens couple. By now, anyone within a hundred yards will recognize me by sight.”
He glanced at her mask with a smirk.
“I can’t stand parties like this. Let’s wrap it up quickly.”
“Fine. I don’t intend to drag this out, either.”
If he’d prepared the groundwork, she supposed she could be grateful. His mouth pulled into an amused line.
“So, where exactly would my ‘beloved’ like to be caught in a passionate embrace? The bedroom? The balcony?”
Both places left them vulnerable to intruders, and she had no intention of spending the night faking passion with him.
“How about the garden? Seems the most sensible.”
Nigel snorted.
“My beloved is bolder than she seems.”
His mocking reply twisted her face into an expression even her mask couldn’t hide.
* * *
Between the shrubbery, small lamps glowed like fireflies, lighting the paths. It was a well-prepared party, she admitted.
But beautiful things often lacked practicality. A stray spark could turn this entire garden into a roaring bonfire.
Nigel sneered, looking at a lantern shaped like a vine nestled under a rose bush.
“Who thought of this stupidity? If it catches fire, they’ll regret it.”
Cecilia wanted to deny that she’d been thinking something similar.
“…But it is quite lovely.”
Enduring his look of scorn was as unbearable as the idea of being compared to him.
They sat on a garden bench inside the pergola. The seat, which doubled as a swing, began to sway with the weight of both of them on it.
“Ah…!”
As Cecilia gripped the bench’s edge to steady herself, Nigel brushed her hand away, pulling her closer by her sleeve. Thrown off-balance, she leaned toward him, shoulders touching.
Cecilia’s eyes flared in irritation, but Nigel merely shrugged casually.
“If we’re going to do this, might as well make it convincing.”
