Maylily - Chapter 36

As heat quickly rose into his slightly cool palm, the soft cheek flushed prettily. The woman, her chest rising and falling noticeably, slowly lowered her golden lashes.

Though Hugh didn’t much like that Maylily avoided his gaze, the forlorn air flowing across her face was worth watching, so he said nothing.

When he moved the hand cupping her cheek slowly to stroke along her slender jaw and delicate neck, he felt a faint tremor beneath his palm.

“Now… is it enough?”

Her voice, half sigh, half whisper, carried a hazy heat. Hugh’s bluish-gray eyes, which had been skimming the curve of her neck, shifted to her glossy lips. And lingered there for a long time.

“Well. Still a bit lacking.”

As he unconsciously tilted his lips, licking them with the tip of his tongue, his eyes moved to the strands of golden hair poking out here and there.

When he tugged at the ribbon loosely tied at the end, a breeze scented with acacia made her long hair billow, covering her small shoulders and back. Her chest heaved all the more as she bit down on her lower lip, unable to compose herself.

From the moment Maylily had climbed into his carriage, Hugh had wanted to kiss that hair. He gripped it and brought it to his lips. A fragile scent, like grass or wildflowers, mixed with the thick fragrance of acacia that filled the air.

This was how Hugh was these days. At every chance, he wanted to touch Maylily, whether she was before his eyes or not. Every place he had touched and every place he hadn’t yet touched, he wanted all of her.

Until now, Hugh Skaard’s life had been far removed from the word “impulse.” But Maylily was the exception to the principles on which that life was founded.

When impulse arises, act.

Maylily was a woman for whom that was good enough. Even if he sought pleasure in her at will, nothing he had built until now, nor anything yet to come in his life, would change. For Maylily Aile was a weak and lowly being, incapable of leaving the slightest blemish upon the solid, splendid renown of Skaard and Everscourt.

So though it felt strange to harbor such ill-bred desire toward this small body, it was no problem to be concerned with.

Hugh pulled her smooth hair taut, winding it around his long, straight fingers, then buried his hand deep into its thick mass to grip her small, round head. His fingertips slowly skimmed through the dense strands, then he seized a handful and kissed it. He brushed the small, dainty ear peeking out between the locks, then flicked her plump earlobe. Simply following his hunger, led only by impulse.

Maylily, as though it weren’t her hair but her breasts being tousled, wore a face of shame, yet now and then stole a glance at Hugh. Between the sounds of wind brushing through leaves, their gazes met, and Maylily, swallowing dryly, cautiously lit up her eyes and opened her mouth.

“Do you… like me?”

She was a woman with an unexpected bold streak that delighted Hugh all the more. It was not at all difficult to give her the answer she wanted.

“Why else would I be waiting?”

At the unhesitant reply, as natural as his roaming touch, her eyes wavered helplessly. Looking down at her, Hugh quietly swallowed a sneer.

Not only Maylily, but even he himself, playing at childish emotions under the name of revenge, seemed laughable. Yet what kept him from disliking the situation altogether was that the delight this woman gave him was that vivid and that great.

Lost in his own thoughts, Maylily bit her lips over and over, then raised her head again. Her watery eyes, as if seeking to confirm something within Hugh’s gaze, reminded him: it was not only gratitude that made her endure his touch with her face flushed crimson.

In the ripened spring, the flower had bloomed. With a little more patience, he’d surely see the beautiful flower opened wide toward him. Hugh was certain.

So tonight, he restrained the impulse to kiss the lips she had bitten, stained red as though to suppress her change. He didn’t wish to ruin things by reaching too hastily for an unripe flower.

Victor Heywood, they said, was still wandering in Maylily’s girlish past. So Hugh still had the leisure to wait for her full bloom, and he intended to do so gladly.

So that, at her most radiant moment, he could crush her mercilessly in his hands and present her, wilted, to Victor Heywood.

***

“The cookies you gave me the other day were delicious. I really enjoyed them.”

Turning her head at the voice beside her, Maylily, who had been wiping off her makeup with a rosewater-scented handkerchief, broke into a bright smile under the vanity lights.

“Greta! I’m glad they suited your taste. I like those cookies too, so I often buy them myself.”

Greta was one of the troupe members who had helped Maylily to the infirmary on the day she injured her ankle. When Maylily later gifted cookies as a token of thanks, the two, who had entered the company at the same time, finally opened up to each other.

Greta had asked about the confectionery where the cookies were bought, and Maylily gladly shared the information. They also briefly shared their thoughts on that day’s performance, which had just ended.

That short exchange alone was enough to end the day on a pleasant note. Having not felt the joy of making a friend in a long time, Maylily was a little elated.

“Hey, Maylily…”

Greta, about to rise from her seat, hesitated for a moment before continuing, her voice faltering.

“I’m sorry for pretending not to know you all this time.”

The meaning contained in that simple apology was clear. Maylily shook her head with a faint smile.

“No, don’t say that. I wasn’t good at approaching people either. But from now on, I want things to be different. So let’s get along well.”

“Yes, let’s. Then I’ll go get ready to head home now.”

Leaving behind a kind smile, Greta departed. Watching her back for a moment, Maylily resumed wiping off her makeup, her face still faintly smiling.

Three days after her return. It was enough time to realize the shift in atmosphere within the Roden Opera Company.

When Director Fritz personally came forward to declare that the suspicions surrounding Maylily were groundless, the malicious rumors about her naturally died away. Even if some still harbored doubts behind her back, no one any longer cast scornful looks or whispered in her face. Some even greeted her first with a nod, or, like Greta, offered apologies.

Knowing full well that the influence of the Count of Everscourt had brought about these changes, Maylily couldn’t simply be pleased. Yet she decided she wouldn’t think of it in despair either.

Whatever the beginning, how she guided this change henceforth depended entirely on her. That meant there was still room for her to accomplish something. With that thought, Maylily renewed her resolve and determination for her life at the opera company.

And that man…

“Do you… like me?”

“Why else would I be waiting?”

Recalling the bluish-gray eyes that had shone straight into her own that night as if to give her certainty, Maylily’s heart beat a little faster.

Those eyes, unlike the suffocating hands that had pressed upon her, had been warm and tender. As though gazing upon something very precious, very beloved.

Perhaps… this man might be different.

Even though she had heard countless times of fickle and irresponsible nobles who toyed with powerless women, and even though she knew she was herself the product of such tragedy, in some fleeting moment, Maylily had embraced such foolish hope.

No matter how much she turned it over in her mind, it was truly foolish.

Even if that man was different from other nobles, in the end, their relationship could only meet its end…

Shaking her head to dispel her useless thoughts, Maylily glanced at the wall clock and was startled.

“When did it get so late…”

The dressing room was emptying, only a few members remaining. If she was not to miss the omnibus to Cryer, she needed to hurry. Snapping out of her daze, Maylily’s hands moved quickly.

After leaving the theater, she ran and ran until she was breathless, barely managing to catch the omnibus to Cryer.

Grateful to have ended the day safely, she climbed the stairs of the apartment building and stepped into the hallway bathed in pale moonlight. Just then, a dark figure occupying the space in front of her door came into view.

Standing still, she observed cautiously, her eyes soon widening in shock.