Maylily - Chapter 59

Victor, his eyes half-crazed, grabbed Maylily violently. Frightened, she shrank back, but she didn’t open her mouth.

No matter how long he kept pressing her, nothing changed. Enraged to the point that blood rushed to his head, Victor seized Maylily’s slender neck with one hand.

“Ugh.”

“Still won’t talk?”

“Fa…ther, please….”

Maylily weakly hit his arm with her trembling hands. But Victor didn’t care and tightened his grip even more. Still, Maylily, her face turning red and purple, refused to say what he wanted to hear.

“Damn it!”

Cursing, Victor threw her to the ground. Collapsing, Maylily coughed violently, red handprints blooming on her neck. When the coughing finally subsided, Victor grabbed a fistful of her tangled hair and yanked her head back.

“Ah….”

Maylily whimpered, her tearful eyes glistening, but Victor didn’t so much as blink.

“Tell me that man’s name, Maylily. As your father, I should at least make the bastard who ruined your honor take responsibility.”

“….”

Victor’s rage flared like wildfire, but Maylily only shook her head, refusing to speak. She was tougher than she looked.

How am I supposed to find the man who’s harmed my property…..

That night, Victor lay awake, unable to sleep, his body burning with rage. And the answer to that infuriating problem came to him from an unexpected source the next day.

***

“You should learn to manage the quality of your merchandise before you try to sell it.”

Sitting in the narrow, shabby parlor, Viscount Dawson snapped sharply at Victor, who had just appeared in his robe. His face burned with fury as if he had been deeply insulted.

“Coming here without notice, what nonsense are you talking about?”

Dealing with Maylily was headache enough, but now this old man was making a scene early in the morning. Irritated, Victor slouched lazily on the sofa and raked his messy hair back. A newspaper flew toward him.

The Woman Who Accompanied the Count of Everscourt to the Flower Show

Beneath the headline, which caught the reader’s eye by naming the most talked-about figure of the social season, was a photo of a man and woman walking side by side through a park. Even though it had been taken from a distance, the man’s features were sharp and elegant.

And the woman beside him….

Wait—!

As Victor skimmed the paper carelessly, his eyes flew open. Even after rubbing them and looking again, the woman in the picture was unmistakably Maylily.

The article reported that the mysterious woman accompanying the Count of Everscourt was an unknown opera singer under his patronage. At the end, it even listed a brief summary of Maylily’s career.

“That bitch….”

She’d said she had no patron, no lover. That innocent face of hers had lied so easily…. Trembling with fury and betrayal, Victor barely noticed when Viscount Dawson struck the final blow.

“Let’s pretend this marriage proposal never happened.”

Victor snapped back to his senses, tearing his gaze from the newspaper.

“That’s a hasty decision. According to the article, the Count and Maylily are only in a patron relationship.”

“Do you take me for a fool? You really don’t know what people think of singers under a man’s patronage? It doesn’t matter what their real relationship is. In everyone’s eyes, your daughter’s already the Count of Everscourt’s mistress.”

Slamming his cane against the floor, Viscount Dawson pushed himself up from his seat.

“I’ve no interest in wasting money on another man’s mistress. Good day to you.”

Before Victor could even come up with an excuse, the viscount struck the floor twice with his cane and stormed out. It was completely over. Victor watched him go, his face crumbling like a man whose world had collapsed.

Pamela, who had been eavesdropping from outside the parlor while serving tea, ran in excitedly and plopped herself down on the sofa, oblivious to what had just happened.

“So your daughter snagged the Count of Everscourt? That country girl really has talent. How on earth did she manage to catch a rich, handsome man like that?”

Pamela ogled the picture of the Count of Everscourt in the newspaper as if licking it with her eyes, exclaiming in excitement. When a hundred thousand grands had just gone up in smoke, how could that man be of any importance?

“Who does this woman think she’s mocking right now!”

Enraged, Victor cursed under his breath and snatched the newspaper out of Pamela’s hand.

“I… I’m no longer a virgin.”

The words, which he had once dismissed, suddenly pieced together into a new opportunity in Victor’s mind, one that he had failed to see before.

Idiot, how could I only realize it now!

“So it was you. It was you, damn it.”

The one who ruined what was mine.

As Victor stared once again at the picture of the Count of Everscourt, a strange smile crept across his face.

***

Victor Heywood visited the Skaard Hotel that afternoon. Sitting in his office, Hugh looked down at the morning paper that had set Roden ablaze.

“Who was the lady who accompanied you on your stroll in Windays Park last week?”

The young reporter Hugh had encountered at Roden Station by chance had miraculously managed to capture a photo of him with Maylily. It was sheer coincidence, but a perfect one. Under the condition that Hugh would provide a bit of information, he had instructed the reporter to write an exposé instead of a simple interview.

The article, featuring the photograph, spread rapidly, fueled by people’s vulgar imagination. And just as Hugh had planned, it brought Victor Heywood straight to his doorstep.

At last, face-to-face at close range, Victor appeared every bit the refined gentleman. People said that a man’s face reflected the life he’d lived once he reached middle age, but that didn’t seem to apply to him.

Surprisingly, Hugh felt no strong emotion in that moment. Only a familiar face, resembling his, briefly crossed his mind.

“Welcome, Mr. Heywood. I’ve been expecting you.”

The Count of Everscourt rose from his armchair to greet him. Bowing respectfully to the nobleman, Victor gave him a puzzled look.

“Do you know me?”

“You’re Maylily’s biological father, aren’t you? I figured you’d come looking for me after this morning’s Roden Times article. Please, have a seat.”

Did Maylily mention my name?

Feeling a sting of guilt toward his daughter, Victor sat across from the count with feigned composure. The Count of Everscourt sat back in his chair, spine straight, long legs crossed with casual elegance.

From his neatly combed hair to the polished tips of his shoes, he was the picture of refinement—a man sculpted with precision and care, his every movement brimming with discipline and grace. Sunlight streaming through the large window wrapped around him, almost too dazzling to look at.

So that’s the flawless shell you used to seduce my daughter. You’ll pay for it, I swear. With that thought burning in his chest, Victor finally spoke.

“I’ll get straight to the point. As a gentleman, I expect you to take responsibility for having dishonored Maylily.”

“I merely sponsored a singer of exceptional talent. Dishonor? That’s quite a leap, one based on the public’s prejudice.”

“Maylily told me there was more to it than that.”

At Victor’s insinuation, Hugh tilted his head slightly, feigning puzzlement. That faint, unreadable smile in his eyes only stoked Victor’s anger further.

“If you’ve taken a lady’s chastity, it is your duty as a gentleman to marry her and to protect both her honor and your own.”

“So you’re saying I should make Maylily my wife?”

“That’s right.”

“You do have a talent for comedy.”

Hugh let out a dry, amused chuckle. Perhaps that went too far, even by Victor’s own measure. For a commoner’s illegitimate daughter to aim for the seat of Countess of Everscourt was, admittedly, absurd and shameless. Still, Victor didn’t let the sneer fade from his face.

“I fail to see what’s so amusing about my words.”

“Maylily’s your illegitimate daughter, isn’t she? With such a background, what ‘honor’ could she possibly have to defend?”

The count’s voice, smooth and elegant, carried an icy contempt that cut through the heat of the sunlight. His blue eyes gleamed coldly, as though thinking of a woman he’d long since lost interest in.

Victor, who had been searching for any sign of affection toward Maylily in the count’s demeanor, felt dismayed. At this rate, even the prospect of her being his mistress seemed impossible. Useless woman.

There was only one card left for him to play.

“My daughter may be a commoner by birth, but she was already in discussions for marriage with a noble family. You’ve deprived her of that chance to live as a proper lady. The damage to us is severe. If you compensate accordingly, it would serve to preserve not only her dignity but the honor of House Everscourt as well.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Whether it’s persuasion or blackmail depends entirely on you.”

As if gathering his thoughts, the Count slowly closed and then opened his eyes, a cold smile forming at the corner of his lips.

“Mr. Heywood, allow me to ask you a question.”

“Go ahead.”

“Don’t you find it laughable that you’re urging me to make an honorable choice by using Maylily as your excuse? Maylily herself is the very embodiment of your disgrace.”

“It’s difficult to explain the details here, but there were unavoidable circumstances that kept me from legally acknowledging Maylily and her mother. I sought her out now because I intend to fulfill my duties and responsibilities, however belatedly.”

“In that case… Hailey Skaard.”

“Hailey… Skaard?”

Victor frowned at the unfamiliar name suddenly mentioned out of nowhere, and the Count let out a quiet, derisive laugh.

“I thought so. To speak of honor so boldly before me….”

A moment later, an envelope was placed before Victor.

“It’s been twenty years, so you must have forgotten. Let me help you remember.”

From the envelope came several newspaper articles and documents. On top lay a gossip column mocking a foolish countess who had run away with a lowly young nobleman only to return in shame.

Hailey Skaard, the Countess from a marquess’s family.

The moment Victor’s own name appeared beside hers, faint memories of the past began surfacing in his mind, one by one.