"Did you... just say 'marriage'?"
A brief, mocking smile played on Eugene's lips. The nerve. To prevent his niece's independence by marrying her off—it was a cowardly and pathetic ploy.
He slowly leaned back against the sofa. Despite his relaxed posture, displeasure was rapidly spreading within him like a black fog. The Viscountess's lie pricked at his nerves like a shard of ice, but he concealed his emotions with the expressionless demeanor honed over long years.
"Yes, Your Grace."
The Viscountess offered an arrogant smile, yet a chilling shiver ran through her under Eugene's gaze—a gaze as cold and deep as a winter lake. A primal fear, as if a great predator was eyeing its prey, seized her. Goosebumps rose on her arms, and her spine felt icy.
The Viscountess tried to hide her agitation, slowly stroking her own arm. She then shifted her gaze from Eugene to Leah. Today, Leah was dressed neatly for the first time in a long while. The vibrant blue dress hugged her body, the flowing fabric revealing her hidden, tempting figure. She possessed the prime ripeness of a full fruit, full of vitality and life—the very image of a young woman soon to turn nineteen.
The Viscountess's brow furrowed slightly. She recalled how Eugene's eyes had lingered on Leah earlier. There was something in that look beyond mere curiosity.
'Could the Duke be taking an inappropriate interest in Leah?'
Anxiety squirmed in her chest. But she quickly shook her head, dismissing the idea. The Duke had only met Leah yesterday. He couldn't have developed an interest in a girl dressed in a maid's uniform and lacking adornments. The Leah of now only looked presentable because of the noble lady's dress; the only suitable match for a man like the Duke was her own daughter, Beth.
Nevertheless, the Viscountess couldn't look away. Leah was different today. Her long, wavy red hair cascaded like a waterfall, and her fair skin shone even brighter. Her figure, seemingly slender yet voluptuous, was sufficient to captivate men's attention. She was dangerous.
A momentary sense of regret crept into the Viscountess's heart due to her sudden unease.
'Maybe I should have made her wear the maid's uniform after all...'
But she quickly pushed the thought aside.
'The Duke is simply repaying a debt to my brother. I'll take the money and leave this place.'
The Viscountess resolved, shedding her suspicion. Unless the Duke proposed to Leah, all this was baseless conjecture. And that would absolutely never happen.
"Leah will be holding her wedding on the day she turns nineteen next month."
The Viscountess's voice rang clearly through the drawing-room. It sounded like a definitive sentence being passed on Leah's fate. Arrogance flashed in her eyes. She was the one who held Leah's destiny.
"Ha!"
A desolate, cold laugh mixed with disbelief burst from Eugene's lips. That brief laugh quickly vanished, replaced by a deep, icy contempt on his face.
"And who, precisely, is she marrying?"
Eugene's voice was low and flat. There were no men in Leah's memories. Since her life was filled only with pain and love for her brother, Eugene was certain the Viscountess was lying.
Eugene slowly smoothed his mouth with one hand.
"Count Lucien de Montclair."
As the name spilled from the Viscountess's mouth without hesitation, Eugene's hand froze in mid-air.
A split second of silence passed, and the air in the drawing-room turned frigid.
Eugene's brow furrowed deeply.
'Wait... was there actually a man she was meant to marry?'
Caught off guard by the unexpected twist, Eugene briefly stiffened, lost in thought.
"Count Montclair?"
Just then, Hector's voice entered the drawing-room calmly from the doorway. All eyes turned to Hector, whose long silver hair was neatly tied back and who was impeccably dressed. He offered a courteous bow to the ladies.
Beth made an exaggerated motion of fainting at the handsome man's elegant greeting, but no one paid her any mind.
"Is he an acquaintance?" Eugene asked his brother.
"I believe he's the lord of Montclair Castle in the Champagne region of France?"
Hector smiled, confirming the Viscountess's nod. "My memory serves me right, then."
His pleasure was short-lived. His brow soon narrowed, and he tilted his head.
"But... if I recall correctly, isn't he in his late forties, nearly fifty?"
The moment those words dropped, Eugene rose from the sofa back.
'What? Forties? The hell...!'
Eugene swallowed a curse. Leah, too, was seized by shock.
'I have to marry a man the age of my father?'
It was as if her heart had stopped; her whole body was stiffened by a cold numbness. It felt as though the blood in her veins was freezing. Her heart pounded crazily, and she could hear her pulse booming in her ears. She unconsciously clutched her dress hem so fiercely it felt like it was tearing, and her fingers turned white. Recalling herself standing next to an old, unfamiliar man, her expression twisted in despair. The desperation engulfed her, and a rough breath escaped her trembling lips.
'What did I do to deserve such a fate, exactly...?'
She had looked after her aunt's household for over nine years. She had worked until her hands were raw and scrubbed floors until her knees bled. To avoid being separated from her sick younger brother, she had endured her aunt's unfair treatment without complaint.
Leah's eyes started to sting, and she hastily raised her head and blinked. 'I mustn't cry here.' She forced her emotions into check.
Hector saw the pain, despair, and betrayal clearly etched on her pale face and tutted. It was certain Leah hadn't known about the marriage.
'Why on earth?'
Hector looked at Leah with pity, then shifted his gaze to Eugene. Eugene had seen her expression, too.
'Oh dear, is my brother about to cause a scene?'
The Viscountess, seemingly unconcerned with her niece's emotions, straightened her back and looked at Eugene. The smile on her lips was that of a victor.
Rage boiled up inside Eugene. His blue eyes were as cold and desolate as a frozen lake, and his fists were clenched so tightly that the veins on the back of his hands stood out.
"Viscountess."
Eugene struggled to control his surging emotions.
"You're not lying, are you?"
He lifted his long eyelashes and glared at the Viscountess.
"Oh, goodness. Why would I lie? Leah will marry Count Montclair."
The Viscountess turned her body to Leah and continued in a voice as sweet as honey.
"Leah, I was originally going to formally introduce you to the Count before your birthday. It seems the Count saw you once and fell in love at first sight. You will grow to like him when you meet him, too."
She grasped Leah's hand tightly—a silent warning that there was no escape. The Viscountess's voice was gentle, but to Leah's ears, it tasted as bitter as poison.
"Aunt..." Leah's voice trembled faintly.
The scream that had risen in her throat was swallowed. She knew, to the core of her being, the cold obsession and threats hidden behind her aunt's gentle smile.
"You know, don't you? No man will take David. So, trust me, dear. This is all for your own good."
The Viscountess's touch was soft, but Leah felt as though cold iron chains were squeezing her whole body. Every touch felt like a shackle binding her.
'For my own good? A lie...'
"By the way, Your Grace."
The Viscountess turned her body back toward Eugene. She was still smiling sweetly, but her voice held an element of coercion.
"You mentioned a debt to my brother, did you not? I would be most grateful if you could pay the amount to Leah as soon as possible. She needs it for her marriage dowry."
The illusion of countless glittering gold coins reflected in her eyes.
"Aunt...!"
Leah hastily grabbed her aunt's lapel. It was mortifying to talk about money in front of the Duke. The Viscountess kindly but firmly pulled her niece's hand away.
Leah bit her lip out of apology and shame, glancing at Eugene.
Eugene stared silently at the Viscountess. He was expressionless but somehow dangerous.
Leah suddenly felt exhausted. She spoke to her aunt almost pleadingly.
"Aunt, let's talk about this at home. Please..."
"Leah." The Viscountess's sharp gaze was undisguised. "We haven't finished speaking with the Duke, have we? It's rude to interrupt adult conversations."
The Viscountess looked at Eugene. In her mind, she was already calculating how to spend the money.
Eugene felt anger flare up as he watched her demand Leah's money as if it were her own. His jawline set grimly.
The Viscountess's brazenness, acting like she was a creditor, made him feel sick to his stomach, but he couldn't reveal the truth due to the trap he'd set himself by wanting to bring Leah to his estate.
Hector watched the confrontation between the Viscountess and his brother and quietly sighed. With the news that Leah was to marry an older man as if she were being sold off, his brother's emotions seemed to have become even more complicated.
The air in the drawing-room settled heavily.
"Today..."
Eugene slowly rose from the sofa.
"I think it's best we conclude here."
"Ah, the time has flown by, hasn't it?" Hector quickly interjected at Eugene's decisive statement.
The Viscountess huffed in displeasure but adjusted her dress at Hector's elegant ushering.
"Your Grace, the next time we meet, I sincerely hope we can finalize the debt to my brother. We have an important family event coming up soon, and I'd like to conclude it before then, if possible."
Her voice contained a persistent determination to secure the money.
As the Viscountess exited the drawing-room, Beth followed. Leah clasped her hands together and bowed her head.
"I apologize, Your Grace."
She apologized and looked up at Eugene. Her green eyes were full of contrition.
Eugene opened his mouth to say it was alright, but he immediately closed it at the sharp voice echoing from the hallway.
"Leah! What are you doing? Come along now!"
Leah sighed lightly at her aunt's call and bid the twins goodbye. As Leah rushed out of the drawing-room, Hector closed the door and left to see the ladies out.
Thump! Eugene hit the sofa. He then roughly ran a hand through his hair. He leaned on the sofa and pressed his lips together.