Maylily - Chapter 111

The man who appeared behind Carlo had hair that shone jet black. It was the Count of Everscourt. Maylily, who had risen to greet the guest, couldn’t hide her baffled expression.

Following someone around wasn’t enough for him, and now he even pushed his way into this gathering. Even if he’d been invited, still…. She already knew he was a man who had never known difficulty in life, but wasn’t this brazenness going too far?

“Ah….”

As Maylily mulled over her disbelief, she absentmindedly glanced down at the baby cradle placed on the floor beside her and let out a low sigh.

“Stop trying to deceive me. If I send someone to investigate, it’s something that’ll be revealed in less than five minutes.”

After hearing those words, she gave up early on the idea of hiding Dylan from the Count forever. But she didn’t want to show him the child while she was this unprepared. Maylily adjusted the direction of the cradle so Dylan’s face was visible only from where she sat.

In the meantime, Carlo and the Count reached the table.

[When I finished my work and came in, Mr. Barry was sitting alone in the hall. So I brought him along.]

Carlo joked that a guest staying at the inn for a whole month was practically family. Beside him, the Count smoothly offered his thanks with a polite smile.

[Thank you for allowing me to join this precious gathering.]

[Oh my, not at all. Please, have a seat here.]

Giovanna stepped aside and made room. The Count then sat between Carlo and Giovanna, in a seat diagonally across from Maylily. His deep blue eyes briefly swept over the faces of Maylily and Michele, who were seated side by side across from him.

[Please wait a moment. I’ll make some orange juice right away.]

[I’ll make it, ma’am. Please sit and keep talking.]

Maylily sprang to her feet and hurried into the kitchen before Giovanna could even step forward. She poured the remaining orange juice, after setting aside the family’s portions, into a glass and added a little sugar.

Thinking about the Count’s taste, since he didn’t like sweets, she wanted to dump in a mountain of sugar, but she held back. The oranges were filled with the family’s effort, and it would be a waste if they were ruined.

When Maylily came back to the dining room carrying the glass on a tray, the Count was talking with the family about visiting the early morning market in the village square.

[Thank you.]

The Count slightly curved his lips when he looked at Maylily placing the glass down quietly so as not to interrupt. A long dimple formed faintly on his smoothly shaven cheek. Even though he looked tired, as if he hadn’t slept for days, it was still a striking smile.

Caught off guard by the sudden meeting of their eyes, Maylily only parted her lips like a fool before returning to her seat. The pounding of her heart, beating like something broken, made it impossible to follow the conversation.

[That restaurant is famous for its grilled fish with olive oil and herbs. They only use the freshest fish brought in that day.]

[I see. I’ll keep that in mind if I visit again next time.]

While Hugh spoke with the Sergio couple, Maylily merely fidgeted with her glass and didn’t glance at him even once. It would almost be better if she glared at him like Michele Baratti, as if she wanted to kill him.

Hugh took a sip of the orange juice to wash away the bitterness lingering on the tip of his tongue. The sweetness of the juice, with its finely crushed pulp, suited his taste perfectly. As he lowered his gaze to the glass with a faint smile, his eyes moved to the flowers placed at the center of the table.

[The centerpiece….]

At the new topic the Count of Everscourt brought up, Maylily flinched and reflexively lifted her head. The blue‑gray eyes that had been openly watching her gleamed with mischief.

[It’s impressive.]

At that moment, the memory surfaced of running into the Count at the inn entrance on her way back from buying the flowers. Maylily’s face flushed hot. The Count knew who had made this clumsy centerpiece.

[Do you think so too, Mr. Barry? May made it.]

[Ah, really? So May doesn’t only do beautiful embroidery.]

Carlo and Giovanna, innocent enough to take the Count’s words as praise, enthusiastically praised Maylily. When Carlo pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and proudly showed the orange embroidery stitched on it to the Count, Maylily’s embarrassment grew even stronger.

No matter how much care and effort she put into it, to the Count, who grew up in noble society where embroidery and flower arranging were considered basic accomplishments for women, her skill would surely look endlessly clumsy.

Maylily tried not to be conscious of the Count’s reaction as she spooned some orange juice into Dylan’s mouth with a teaspoon. She diluted it with water, but the sourness was still strong, and the baby scrunched his face tightly. Then the sweetness rose belatedly, and he looked puzzled before reaching toward the teaspoon in Maylily’s hand and babbling.

“Mamma ma, ah! Ahh….”

At the dramatic change in expression, Maylily broke into a bright smile. At the baby’s babbling, Michele leaned slightly toward Maylily and shifted his gaze to the cradle.

[Looks like orange juice suits Dylan’s taste. Last time he spat out the lemon water with the most awful face.]

[You’re right. He eats sour things well now, and he’s grown a lot.]

Remembering the same moment, Maylily chuckled softly.

At the sound, Hugh’s gaze moved to Maylily and Michele.

Even though he knew there was no connection between the two of them, the affectionate scene between them looked as if they formed a family. Meanwhile he sat across from Maylily, pretending to be a stranger unrelated to her just so he could face her.

His throat suddenly felt dry, and Hugh tilted the glass of juice to his lips.

[Of course. He even sits up by himself now, so he’s all grown, I’d say. He’s quite the sturdy little fellow.]

With a more lively voice, Carlo praised the baby whose daily routine consisted only of eating, sleeping, and playing. Then suddenly, as if something occurred to him, he exclaimed, “Ah.” Everyone’s attention turned to him.

[Come to think of it, Mr. Barry’s hair color and eye color are exactly the same as our little one’s. That must be why I felt he looked familiar when I first met him.]

Carlo looked closely at Hugh’s face as if he had made an interesting discovery. Hugh, who had just learned an unexpected fact, paused as he was about to set the glass down on the table. Seeing that, Maylily’s face turned pale and she awkwardly averted her gaze, while Michele checked her expression.

Carlo, unaware that the atmosphere among the three of them had suddenly changed, continued cheerfully.

[Are there many people in Riverton with black hair and blue eyes? It’s a very rare combination in Cartia.]

[Strictly speaking, it’s rare in Riverton as well.]

The Count of Everscourt explained calmly to Carlo. Yet even in that moment, Maylily felt a gaze pricking sharply at her cheek.

Calm down. Nothing will happen.

Even when she tried to reassure herself, she couldn’t rein in her wildly pounding heart. Michele reached under the table and held her hand, but the trembling didn’t calm in the slightest.

Maylily finally sprang to her feet. No matter how she thought about it, today wasn’t a suitable day to reveal the truth. She still needed a little more time.

[Sorry to interrupt, but I should take Dylan inside. He’s tired, so I think he needs a nap.]

Maylily deliberately lifted the corners of her lips. She only hoped her smile looked natural.

[I’ll go with you. I’ll carry the cradle.]

Michele rose after her.

[Before that.]

The next moment, the Count’s low voice stopped the two of them just as they were about to leave the table.

Maylily swallowed dryly and turned back to him. In the eyes that watched her with relentless persistence, as if binding her in place, a certain conviction shone.

[I’d like to see the baby once. I’m curious what a child with hair and eyes the same color as mine looks like.]

[There’s no reason you can’t. Dylan is probably the prettiest baby you’ve ever seen, Mr. Barry.]

[People in the village keep saying they’ve never seen a baby that looks so much like a doll.]

Dylan was Carlo and Giovanna’s happiness and pride. So there was no reason not to show him to a guest. Rather, they seemed very pleased to have such an opportunity.

Carlo readily stood up, took the cradle Michele was holding, and set it down between the Count and Giovanna.

[Look at these eyes. See how they sparkle with such a vivid color? They’re as beautiful as jewels.]