Maylily - Chapter 112

“Aba, ba, buu….”

As if offering his first greeting, the child busily smacked his small, plump lips and made sounds. Perhaps Hugh’s face quietly looking down at him seemed fascinating, because the round eyes staring up at him sparkled brightly.

The baby’s skin was white as snow and his hair was jet black. His eyes were a deep blue like the dawn sky just after the night had lifted, and the tip of his nose stood high. In the middle of his lively rosy cheeks, a small mole was cutely embedded.

After seeing that face, there was no way he could fail to recognize that the child was his and Maylily’s. The clear lines and strongly colored features resembled Hugh, but the overall atmosphere and expression closely resembled Maylily, making him a lovely child.

At that moment, an emotion difficult to describe with a single word surged through Hugh’s heart like a wave. It was both a soaring ascent into the high sky and a plunge into an endless abyss.

The child before his eyes was the product and result of the time Hugh and Maylily had shared together. As long as such a being breathed in reality, he and she were destined to remain connected forever.

Maylily had the right and the qualification to demand anything from Hugh by putting such a child before him. Even so, she abandoned all the abundance and comfort Hugh could offer and chose to run away. As if that were the best thing she could hope for from him.

His throat tightened at the thought of the difficult time Maylily must have endured, leaving her homeland while pregnant with his child, giving birth, and raising him alone. And regret surged at the fact that the person who drove her into such a miserable choice was Hugh himself.

My flower.

My Maylily.

Because she was a delicate and fragile existence, he should have cherished her more than anyone instead of carelessly breaking and taking her.

Within that belated realization, Hugh slowly lifted his head and looked at Maylily across from him. Seeing her appear smaller and more slender than ever, his heart ached and heat rose to the corners of his eyes.

Even in a moment like this, the fact that Maylily hadn’t given her body and heart to another man filled him with bursting joy at the thought that he was the only man who had once possessed her completely. At the same time, the fact that the man standing beside her now was Michele Baratti rather than himself made his heart dry out like a desert.

[It seems Dylan likes you very much, Mr. Barry. This little one is gentle, but it’s not common for him to stretch out his arms asking to be held by someone he’s seeing for the first time.]

The tiny hand the child stretched toward Hugh was covered with a pale sky-blue knitted mitten. By the time his gaze shifted from it to Carlo, every trace of emotion had disappeared from Hugh’s face, leaving only a polite smile.

[You’re right, Mr. Sergio. I’ve never seen such a beautiful baby.]

[Isn’t that so? If you’d like, you can try holding him….]

[Sorry, but I think I should take Dylan now, Uncle.]

Maylily, who had been quiet until now, gently but firmly cut in.

[He’s very tired right now. I think it would be best to take him and put him to sleep.]

Maylily continued speaking in a calm tone, but she couldn’t hide the trembling in her eyes.

Was she worried the child might be taken away?

If that was the case, he had no intention of provoking that fear. It was true that Maylily’s frightened, tearful face was beautiful enough to stir an abnormal sadistic impulse, but he no longer felt the desire to see that face.

[Then please do so.]

[Thank you for understanding, Mr. Barry. I got carried away wanting to show Dylan off. I’m sorry, May.]

[No, Uncle. If Dylan takes his nap too late these days, he can’t sleep well at night. I’m the one who should apologize.]

[Right, off you go now, little one.]

The baby cradle soon returned to Michele’s hands. Hugh couldn’t take his eyes off Maylily’s back as she left the dining room beside him.

***

In the end, the Count of Everscourt learned the whole truth.

Michele, who kept replaying what happened in the dining room that afternoon, finally threw aside the book that wouldn’t hold his attention and collapsed onto the bed.

On the day he witnessed Maylily’s reunion with the Count of Everscourt in the inn’s backyard. He acted on impulse and pretended to be Maylily’s husband, but he never expected the Count could be kept in the dark for long about something the villagers already knew. Even so, now that things had actually reached this point, he couldn’t help feeling complicated.

“It seems he came after seeing the address written in the letter I sent to my aunt.”

If Maylily’s guess was correct, the news of the Count’s engagement was a trap he set to lure her back out into the world. And Michele himself brought that trap right to the feet of Maylily, who was hiding in a safe place.

Like an idiot who understood nothing.

Was this the punishment for his greed, for trying to force his way into Maylily’s heart even if it meant hurting her?

If only he had waited just a little longer….

He was repeating useless regrets and letting out deep sighs when it happened.

Knock, knock.

With a small knocking sound, the door opened slightly and Giovanna poked her head inside.

[Michele, may I come in for a moment?]

[Yes, please come in.]

Michele quickly sat up and straightened his disheveled clothes. Giovanna sat beside him, hesitated for a moment, then spoke with difficulty.

[Well, Michele. About… Mr. Barry.]

So it’s finally come.

Until now, he kept the Count’s identity hidden from Carlo and Giovanna at Maylily’s request because she didn’t want to make them uncomfortable. But it seemed Giovanna had noticed something from what happened today.

[Yes, go ahead, Aunt.]

[Is Mr. Barry… Dylan’s biological father?]

[Yes.]

[I suspected it, but… so it really is true.]

Michele answered calmly as if it were nothing, but Giovanna’s face clearly fell.

As if she sensed that parting with Maylily might not be far away.

[Somehow, I thought it was strange from the moment a wealthy traveler like Mr. Barry came to our inn.]

[Did Uncle notice too?]

[Of course not. Your uncle is hopeless when it comes to noticing things like this. He said in such an excited voice that he hopes Dylan grows up to be a fine gentleman like Mr. Barry. He seems thrilled, like we’ve gained a new family member. I only hope he won’t be hurt when he learns the truth later….]

Michele could imagine Carlo’s face, smiling innocently like a boy as he said those words to Giovanna. A bitter smile spread across Michele’s lips.

[Did Mr. Barry come to take May away? What did May say she would do?]

[…I’m not sure.]

“No matter what the Count says, I won’t change my life or my plans going forward.”

Michele clearly remembered Maylily’s resolve. But as long as the Count kept circling around her like he was now, he thought he couldn’t be certain of her feelings.

He didn’t want to reassure Giovanna, and eventually Carlo as well, with a rash promise only to bring them greater disappointment later. So he decided it was better to hold his tongue.

[Are you just going to sit back and watch like this?]

[What else am I supposed to do?]

[You hopeless fool!]

Giovanna smacked Michele’s broad back with a loud thwack. “Ouch,” Michele hunched his shoulders and groaned dramatically with a grin.

[That hurts, Aunt.]

[I hit you because it should hurt, you fool. Even if she rejects you, you should at least try proposing to May. You love her, don’t you?]

[If I proposed every time I fell in love, I would’ve been married over a dozen times by now.]

[You say that, but I know May is someone special to you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have returned to this rural village you left as if you’d never come back.]

[….]

[Are you really going to just let May leave with another man like this? If May married you, she could live with a much easier heart….]

The longer Giovanna’s lecture continued, the more the trace of a smile remaining on Michele’s face slowly faded. Every single word she said struck painfully at the heart of the matter.

[Even caution can become harmful when it goes too far. While you still have a chance, shouldn’t you at least do your best?]

Leaving behind that affectionate advice, Giovanna left the room. Michele lay back down on the bed again, staring blankly at the ceiling as he murmured.

“Chance….”

Was there really still something like that left?

Ever since the Count of Everscourt appeared in Bredova, he thought everything was already over….

Just as his aunt said, if there was any way not to lose Maylily, should he try anything?