Maylily - Chapter 23

The Count of Everscourt’s subtle urging left Maylily quite flustered. She had never considered that if the man refused her request, he might instead demand compensation.

What could she possibly possess that would satisfy a man who owned the tallest and most magnificent building in the wealthiest district of Roden?

After agonizing with an anxious expression for a long while, Maylily finally gave an uncertain answer in a timid voice.

“I’ll sing for you.”

Because he had said that he enjoyed her singing, perhaps…

“Your song, which anyone can hear if they go to the theater?”

As if her cautious expectation was ridiculous, the Count let out a hollow laugh.

“That has no value as a transaction, Maylily.”

“……”

“Since you don’t seem to know what you should give, I’ll simply take what I want.”

Against the sunlight pouring in through the window, a cold yet refined smile spread across the man’s lips. The next moment, his face—already far too close—tilted slightly to the side and slowly drew nearer.

Only then did Maylily realize what compensation the Count desired. Just as their lips were about to meet, she quickly turned her head aside. When his hot breath swept over her cheek as he froze mid-motion, the fine hairs on her skin stood on end.

“Y-You promised. That you wouldn’t do this.”

“Promised?”

The Count straightened his posture and tilted his head as he asked back.

“I said I would not force you into bed. Did I make any other promise besides that?”

In that moment, Maylily looked up at him, bewildered. What was the difference between forcing her into bed and this situation now? Unable to understand, she furrowed her brow, and the Count, looking down at her, gave a small laugh as he lightly cupped her cheek.

“Even without breaking that promise, there are countless things I can do to you.”

Following his words, his thumb moved softly, sliding down the tip of her nose, caressing her cheek, then tracing carefully over her lips. As though to demonstrate one of those countless things.

It had been two weeks since the patronage party. In that time, Maylily had neither heard any news of the Count nor seen his face. All she had experienced related to him was Director Fritz’s reproach, asking if she had perhaps made some mistake with the Count, since his patronage hadn’t met expectations.

So she had thought that perhaps that night had been nothing more than the impulsive deviation of a Count drunk on champagne. She had prayed it was so.

Yet, seeing the Count appear again at an unexpected moment, seizing her as he pleased, she realized that night was far from over.

Maylily didn’t know what was included in the countless things he spoke of, but she was certain of one thing. Once his capricious interest faded, she would be nothing more than a cheap toy to be cast aside without a second thought.

Therefore, she needed to push away this strange touch. But she couldn’t move. Was it because she feared that a commotion might cause her aunt to discover everything from beyond the door, or because she was shaken by the tender touch that stroked her as though she were something precious? She didn’t know.

All she did was accept the Count’s touch in silence, yet her heart pounded as though she were being pursued, and her breath came short. If only he had kissed her roughly as last time, she might not have felt this way.

Unable to look any longer into the bluish-gray eyes filled with vivid desire, she lowered her gaze. Then the Count’s hand grasped the braid hanging down her back and slowly drew it forward over her shoulder.

There should be no sensation in hair, yet the slow stroking hand strangely tickled. His large hand played idly with the soft ends tied with a blue ribbon before letting go, brushing against the swell of her chest.

Startled, Maylily’s eyes shot up, but the Count had already stepped back into the sunlight spilling across the carpet. Standing tall, he brushed back the hair from his forehead, and Maylily stared blankly at him, her eyes clouded with confusion.

“Let us begin with dinner. I’ll send someone to arrange the time.”

Speaking leisurely as he slipped on his gloves, the Count’s composed face showed no trace of the intimate exchange of glances and breaths they had just shared. Only Maylily was left floundering in the lingering confusion of that moment.

Having finished preparing to leave, the Count glanced once at Maylily, who only blinked her wide eyes, then gave a silent laugh and left the bedroom.

At the sound of the closing door, Maylily finally came to her senses and drew in a deep breath, like someone rescued from drowning. A faint, refreshing fragrance lingered where the man had stood just moments before.

Unfamiliar with the luxuries of the nobility, she couldn’t name the scent, but she knew it was the same fragrance she had caught when the Count had unexpectedly visited Mr. Hosier’s restaurant.

It was like the smell of wind blowing from afar on a clear day, or like the scent of the sea she had never yet reached.

Maylily stood blankly, forgetting even the presence of those waiting for her beyond the door, until the lingering fragrance, like the man’s afterimage, had completely vanished.

***

Having watched Maylily take the Count of Everscourt into the bedroom, Diane’s family was thrown into an uproar as soon as they entered the sitting room.

“May said earlier that young man was a Count, right? I didn’t hear that wrong, did I?”

“Yes, Father. I heard it clearly too.”

As Jace, sprawled across the sofa, looked around for agreement, Liam, perched sideways on the armrest, nodded vigorously.

“So this is why everyone says the city is better. A house this big, and such a fine nobleman too! I want to live in Roden with May too.”

“Foolish talk! Do you know how hard and exhausting it is to live away from home?”

Since Daisy constantly spoke of wanting to leave Purdshire, Diane deliberately scolded her harshly, worried the girl might get her head full of nonsense.

“But that name ‘Everscourt’ we just heard, doesn’t it sound familiar? Where have I heard it before…?”

“And if you did hear it somewhere, what then? You planning to act like you know him?”

“No, I just wonder what kind of man he is. If he has the key to the house May lives in, doesn’t that mean the two of them are more than just… Ugh!”

Diane jabbed Jace’s side with her elbow to silence his unseemly words, then looked around at her family and warned them.

“Everyone, mind your tongues. He looks like someone who came in connection with the opera company, so don’t jump to foolish conclusions.”

“You’re so stiff. Can’t we even talk about this among ourselves?”

Grumbling as he rubbed his aching side, Jace fell silent at Diane’s sharp glare. The children also quickly quieted under her stern eyes.

Letting out a sigh, Diane’s gaze drifted to the door that led to Maylily’s bedroom.

Though she had declared that there was nothing improper between Maylily and the Count of Everscourt, in truth, Diane was dying to press her ear to that door and overhear every word of their conversation.

The moment he entered, she had realized the man was a noble of the highest rank.

Having worked alongside her father, a tailor, she had an eye for such things, and she could tell at once that everything he wore was of the finest quality. His expression and bearing, full of ease and refinement that no amount of practice could ever imitate, further revealed his exalted status.

And since such a man held the key to this house, it was only natural to suspect that he was indeed the one who had truly provided it to Maylily.

At that moment, she recalled Maylily’s awkward expression when she had mentioned the house at the last inn they stopped at. It was doubtful that the opera company would provide such a lavish residence to a mere chorus member, especially one with rent that must be exorbitant.

A chill of foreboding struck Diane’s heart.

The man was young, handsome, and alluring—dangerously so for a naïve girl full of innocent illusions about love and the world.

How many girls had been ruined by the irresponsible temptations of men like him? Diane knew well of one such case.

There had been a girl with remarkable talent for singing, who dreamed of becoming a performer. But her father, who regarded singers as little better than courtesans, opposed her dream and gave her not a penny of support. So she had taken work as a maid in a noble household.

Even with a rag in her hand and a white apron tied around her waist, her longing for the stage and for song never dimmed. She resolved to save steadily, so that one day she could go to the city to pursue her dream.

Then one summer day, a young noble came to visit the household where she worked. With his handsome face, gentle speech, and refined manners, yet nothing truly proper beyond that, the jaded libertine appeared to the naïve country girl as a splendid gentleman.

Moved by his empty kindness, she opened her heart far too easily. Believing his false promise to help her become a singer, she gave herself to him. Only later, after he had left at the end of summer, did she realize that her foolish moment had led to pregnancy.