Deceived, Yet Drawn to You - Chapter 146

Edmund left the study, setting the morning paper aside. On a peaceful weekend morning, sunlight streamed through the corridor, carrying the scent of baking bread and floral tea. It was time for breakfast, perfect timing. As he descended the stairs with light steps, he soon encountered Mrs. Norris.

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

Mrs. Norris bowed her head, lively even from early morning. Once driven out of Count Twyford’s townhouse, she now stood as the proper housekeeper of Chails, tending to Blair more attentively than anyone.

“Breakfast is prepared, so I was just on my way to inform you. If Madam finishes up and comes out, the timing should be just right.”

“I’ll go myself. Thank you.”

Edmund replied with a faint curve of his lips. Even when it was time for breakfast, Blair didn’t easily emerge from the bedroom, and he alone could coax her out. The housekeeper’s report carried that understanding.

Mrs. Norris seemed quite concerned that Blair, utterly absorbed in her nursing son, often missed mealtimes. Knowing he was the only one capable of bending her stubbornness, she occasionally reported Blair’s small deviations to him. Edmund found that loyal tattling rather pleasing.

Calling servants who had been dismissed under Count Twyford into Chails, his most private space, was not something he would once have done. The former Edmund would have considered it an extremely irrational decision.

But now he saw that no choice had been wiser.

Whenever Blair neglected to take proper care of herself, Mrs. Norris unfailingly sought Edmund out and requested assistance. Even the driver, Hamilton, would promptly report it if Blair showed signs of overexertion while out.

Was that not deeply satisfying? The servants’ seasoned attitude, respecting the privacy of their master and mistress while borrowing the Duke’s authority to serve Blair devotedly, brought Edmund considerable contentment.

The privilege of caring for his wife belonged to him as her husband.

Crossing the corridor, Edmund stopped before the firmly closed bedroom door. From inside drifted the sweet scent of milk and Blair’s clear humming. Though it was a daily scene he savored, his heart beat anew.

Perhaps that was only natural. No matter how often he experienced it, he couldn’t grow accustomed to the sensation that the life he once longed for so desperately now existed before him.

“Blair.”

Instead of knocking, he called her name softly. The humming ceased. He could have opened the bedroom door at once, yet Edmund continued calmly.

“May I come in?”

“Of course. Come in.”

Only after her answer did he slowly turn the handle. Lowering any sound lest he wake the sleeping baby had become habit.

Stepping into the bedroom, Edmund paused as if enchanted. Soft sunlight filtered through the half-drawn curtains, illuminating Blair seated in the armchair by the window and the small baby cradled in her arms. It was the picture of a perfectly tranquil weekend morning.

Blair, who seemed to have just finished nursing, adjusted her loosened clothing and lifted her head. Bathed in sunlight that made her shine all the more, she offered him a gentle smile. Her face was so astonishingly beautiful that Edmund once again lost himself.

“I knew you would come.”

“Just from my presence? Then that is truly remarkable love.”

“More than that, it’s breakfast time. I assumed you would visit soon.”

It wasn’t that she sensed her beloved husband’s presence through the sounds beyond the door. She simply meant that since it was mealtime, she was certain her husband, who inevitably grew anxious that she might skip a meal, would come looking for her.

Edmund raised an eyebrow. Aside from the kiss they exchanged upon waking that morning, they hadn’t even shared a proper conversation. He’d come thinking of it as a rather romantic reunion in his own way, yet to Blair he seemed little more than a clock that rang on schedule at mealtimes.

Perhaps Edmund was the one who pursued romance more than she did.

“Hm. It isn’t an incorrect deduction.”

Edmund approached quietly and took a seat beside Blair. An extra chair was always placed near the armchair—naturally, his designated seat, so he could remain with her where she spent most of her time.

“Roger. Shall we say hello to Daddy?”

Blair whispered as she gently rocked the baby wrapped in a swaddle. Her clear voice rose in pitch whenever she addressed their son. Edmund lowered his gaze, swallowing a smile. At the sight of that tiny life squirming, wonder spread through his eyes.

“Good morning. You should say good morning.”

The baby, full of milk and drowsy, babbled with his eyes still closed. As if truly expecting a greeting from her not-yet-two-month-old son, Blair earnestly stroked his plump cheek with her finger and tried to meet his eyes.

Roger was Edmund’s middle name, the only legacy left by his late birth mother. It was Blair who suggested naming the baby Roger. It was her deep consideration, embracing even the painful fragments of his life with love. Edmund felt an indescribable emotion and accepted the proposal without hesitation.

Even so, when he first saw the baby’s jet-black hair, more precisely, when he saw a face that so closely resembled both himself and his biological father, a chill settled in a corner of his heart. He couldn’t bring himself to voice it to Blair, but the sense of rejection rose involuntarily.

Having spent his life cursing the blood he inherited from his father, he couldn’t help but feel his heart drop at the thought that the shackles of Libert might reach even this innocent life.

The moment that thought crossed his mind, the baby lifted his heavy eyelids.

Between delicate lashes appeared hazel eyes. Light brown tinged with subtle green, clear and beautifully luminous.

As if recognizing his father, the baby even broke into a soft smile. His eyes, unmistakably resembling Blair’s, shone pure and bright as if sweeping away Edmund’s anxiety. That alone made it feel as though this tiny life had received all the blessings in the world.

Even his black hair seemed like the night sky that made those star-like eyes stand out. If this was not a blessing, what could be?

“Hold him. I think he’s greeting you.”

At Blair’s suggestion, Edmund reached out and lifted the baby into his arms. As the surprisingly solid weight settled against his chest, his touch grew careful, as though handling the most fragile treasure in the world. In other words, Edmund now had two beings as precious as treasure.

“Bua.”

Roger busily wriggled, uttering sounds no one could understand, as if truly attempting to greet his father.

“His babbling isn’t ordinary. Do you think he’ll become eloquent?”

As if reading his thoughts, Blair asked. Knowing it was a ridiculous notion yet finding it strangely plausible, Edmund answered with unexpected seriousness.

“He must take after you.”

“Surely not. When it comes to eloquence, you surpass me, Edmund.”

“People are far more moved by the way you speak to their hearts than by logic. If anything, you are the truly formidable orator.”

“Goodness… What kind of absurd claim is that?”

Though Blair flushed at Edmund’s unabashed display of affection, she laughed aloud. Roger, blinking his large eyes as he looked back and forth between his mother and father, followed along without understanding and laughed as well. The sound of that laughter was so pleasing that Edmund finally let out a soft chuckle himself.

Forgetting the original purpose of coming to fetch his wife for breakfast, he lingered for a moment, savoring the happiness of an ordinary day and engraving his treasures into his eyes.