Maylily - Chapter 72

“Mark has regained his memory. A report arrived from Frank Barry.”

Hugh, who had been reviewing the estate ledgers in his office, set down his pen and lifted his head. Meeting his gaze, David cleared his throat lightly before continuing the report in earnest. Its main points were as follows:

Mark testified that Victor Heywood had pushed him off the train bound for Daymont with the intent to kill him.

Though no eyewitnesses to the actual crime had been found, several witnesses who could testify to the circumstances before and after were secured. Most importantly, the button Mark had been holding even as he lost consciousness was accepted as decisive evidence. It was torn from Heywood’s coat during the struggle just before Mark fell from the train.

The local police acknowledged Heywood’s charge of attempted murder and requested cooperation from the Roden authorities, where he resided. Their plan was to arrest the suspect within a few days, transport him to the north, and put him on trial.

Listening to the report that continued for several minutes, Hugh picked up a cigar. While several clouds of smoke rose, a faint, consistent smile lingered around his eyes. He wore a relaxed expression, as if he’d expected this outcome.

“So the investigation and trial will both fall under Purdshire jurisdiction.”

“Yes, that’s correct. Daymont is such a small town that they don’t have the personnel to handle major crimes like attempted murder. That’s why the case was transferred to Purdshire.”

Hugh gave a small nod and drew deeply on his cigar, exhaling the smoke with a thoughtful expression.

“Once the presiding judge is assigned, request a closed hearing. All media coverage is to be prohibited as well.”

“Yes, understood.”

“And this.”

After finishing his words, Hugh held out a letter that had been placed on the side of his desk toward David, who had just set down the report.

“Send it by courier.”

The recipient written on the envelope was the Chief of Roden Police. As David adjusted his glasses with a puzzled look, Hugh explained calmly.

“We need to settle Heywood’s other crime.”

He meant Victor Heywood’s kidnapping and imprisonment of Maylily. It was a crime often overlooked when the victim was a family member, but once Hugh Skaard intervened, the situation would change completely.

David realized instantly that Hugh intended to make Heywood pay as severely as possible, within the bounds of the revised plan.

“I’ll send someone to Roden immediately.”

Hugh gave a faint smile, as if acknowledging how David grasped his intentions so swiftly without unnecessary explanation. Confirming there were no additional instructions, David left the office.

Hugh brought the cigar back to his lips and flipped through the report with an expression devoid of emotion.

So this is how it ends.

A lesser form of revenge. But since he had Maylily, it wasn’t an unfavorable trade. In place of her father, Maylily was dutifully bringing him pleasure.

Unlike Hugh, who was quite satisfied by that fact, Maylily seemed to be experiencing considerable turmoil. As he recalled the face of the woman who had cried miserably in his arms the night before, a sigh-like trail of smoke slipped from between his lips.

She’d be better off letting go of that foolish stubbornness.

She was a woman he had once discarded and then taken back. If his desire could fade so easily in a short time, he wouldn’t have bothered with the trouble.

Hugh had no intention of letting go of Maylily until his interest in her was exhausted. No matter how much pain she felt or how many tears she shed. As long as he desired her, Maylily had to remain a flower adorning his world with beauty.

Placing the half-smoked cigar in the ashtray, Hugh opened the bottom drawer of his desk. As he moved to place the finished report inside, an old portrait entered his view.

The woman with luxuriously thick black hair curled softly and draped over one shoulder, her pale blue eyes shining with elegance. It was Hailey Skaard.

Hugh had discovered the small portrait, about the size of four palms put together, three years ago after his father’s funeral. Found deep inside a drawer of the office he inherited along with the position of head of the family, the picture had no protective cover. Its surface was scratched, and the frame was warped.

Hailey Skaard’s final trace, erased so cleanly it was as if she’d never existed for even a moment in Prowden. Carelessly neglected yet never thrown away completely, the portrait held the remnants of a desire he could neither possess nor discard.

The only stain left on his father’s perfect life. Hugh had no intention of leaving something so shabby behind him.

Hugh stared at the portrait for a long moment, then tossed the report over it. With a fresh cigar between his lips, he walked to the window. He repeated the motion of exhaling smoke, his expression unmoving, until the smoke faded into the air several times.

Just then, at the edge of the western forest unfolding beyond the window, Maylily appeared.

***

I should return to Roden quickly.

Thinking of the soloist selection audition at the end of the month and the role audition the following month, Maylily could no longer afford to relax.

On top of that, her conversation with Deborah earlier that morning had made her even more restless. She wanted to leave as soon as tomorrow, but she had to keep her promise to have her clothes fitted. So she decided she would return to Roden as soon as the seamstress finished.

In Prowden, Maylily existed only as the Count of Everscourt’s mistress. Deborah had reminded her of that fact, and Maylily felt she could no longer accept Deborah’s kindness and favor with gratitude alone.

“As dazzling as Hugh’s life is, it doesn’t mean it’s full of happiness. I hope you’ll be the one to fill that space for him.”

Most of all, that request weighed on her like a heavy stone pressing down on her chest. If Deborah were ever to learn that the daughter of the man who’d likely brought the greatest misfortune into Hugh’s life was none other than herself….

Imagining those previously warm eyes turning cold with contempt, Maylily shook her head violently to drive away the thought. She finished getting ready at once to go meet the Count.

“Could you guide me to the Count of Everscourt? I have something important to tell him.”

Alice readily accepted the request and led Maylily into the mansion through a quiet path where no one was around. A thoughtful consideration for Maylily, who felt burdened by the servants’ gazes.

Unlike the exterior, which resembled an old fortress weathered by time, the interior of the mansion was as splendid as a palace from a fairy tale. Overwhelmed by the dazzling sight she was seeing for the first time in her life, Maylily had to consciously steady herself to avoid shrinking back.

After climbing one floor, they reached the office next to the Count’s study, where David was working. Greeting Maylily and Alice warmly, he stepped into the Count’s office to announce her arrival.

“Please go in, Miss Aile.”

David returned shortly after and held the door open. Maylily gave a small bow of gratitude and stepped inside.

The office, adorned with antique bookcases and furniture, slightly faded tapestries, and various ornaments, felt like a space that condensed the long history of House Everscourt into one room.

At the window where light streamed in, the Count of Everscourt was leaning casually. His vividly dark hair fluttered softly in the breeze blowing through the wide-open window.

In the unfamiliar space, he blended in seamlessly without the slightest sense of discord. The sight created a sudden feeling of distance. Maylily hesitated, unable to take another step, and remained standing by the door.

“Hello, Count.”

The Count slowly took in Maylily from head to toe as she bent her knees in a small curtsey, then lifted his cigar to his lips. As he exhaled a long stream of white smoke, his mouth curved faintly.

“Are you fully recovered?”

“Yes, completely.”

“That’s good. What brings you here?”

For some reason, the Count seemed to be in a good mood today. Thanks to that, Maylily found it a little easier to bring up the purpose of her visit.

“I think I need to return to Roden sometime next week. I came to tell you that.”

Maylily explained the schedule for the soloist selection audition and the role audition, emphasizing that she needed time to prepare for them in advance. The Count, listening with a faint smile and steadily exhaling smoke, placed his cigar in the ashtray on the window ledge.

“Come here, Maylily.”

The Count’s voice and expression were gentle as he gestured for her to step closer. Even so, an inexplicable sense of being overwhelmed struck her, and Maylily moved forward with a tense expression.

When she finally stood a single step away, the Count gently took hold of her upper arm and straightened from where he’d been leaning against the window. Along with the shadow cast by his tall frame, the sharp scent of cigar smoke swept over Maylily’s face.

“How many days has it been since you became my mistress, and you’re already trying to leave your place?”