EID Chapter 138

Chapter 138 

 The Red Dress

In the clear autumn sunlight, Clara’s hand, which had been resting on Johann’s shoulder, slowly slipped away.

Her narrowed blue eyes turned toward Olivia. Then Clara tilted her head slightly and smiled brightly.

“You’re perfect, madam.”

Olivia also returned a smile.

“Am I? Then let’s proceed like this. Though the dress feels uncomfortable.”

Half of it was true, and the other half was simply her desire to end this situation quickly.

“Oh! I hadn’t considered that part. Let’s start right away. Please let me know if it becomes too difficult, madam.”

On Clara’s flawless, bright smile, there wasn’t the slightest trace of awareness that she had just touched another woman’s husband.

Olivia, for some reason, felt a little embarrassed.

“Thank you, Miss Josephine.”

Clara stepped back, checked the composition once more, then returned to her place.

A moment later, the sound of charcoal scratching over the canvas filled the room.

The light streaming in from the side reflected off the red drapery, casting a soft rose tint over Olivia’s white dress.

Johann tilted his gaze downward and fixed it firmly on his wife. His eyes were like warm sunlight spreading languidly at their feet.

The only reason he hadn’t rejected Clara’s touch earlier was because of Olivia.

When the prim woman, who claimed to dance only quadrilles, had boldly touched his body, the bright blue eyes fixed on him belonged entirely to his wife.

Of course, it wasn’t the same loving gaze she cast at Edgar, but it was still another form of affection.

Jealousy.

Johann’s lips curved into a graceful line.

On the canvas, a portrait slowly took shape: the duchess gazing straight ahead with solemn devotion, and the duke looking at his wife with a gentle smile.

The sketching session lasted three hours and ended just before one in the afternoon.

Clara, satisfied, asked Olivia to wear the same attire again when they began coloring two days later.

Olivia was curious about today’s result. How would they both be captured in the eyes of the artist?

“Would you like to see it?”

Noticing her expression, Clara gladly stepped aside from the easel.

It was clear that the portrait would turn out far more beautiful than Olivia had feared.

The bedroom door opened without a knock, and to Olivia’s surprise, Johann was standing there.

The maids, who had been assisting her in changing clothes, quickly bowed their heads and stepped back.

With one hand casually in his trouser pocket, Johann walked in and gave the head maid a look.

She bowed politely, then led the maids out in silence.

“Do you have something to tell me?”

Why was he here, instead of getting ready for his supposed evening engagement? Olivia asked with a puzzled expression.

“That dress is my gift.”

Johann’s gaze lingered slowly over Olivia, as though admiring her.

“I’m grateful for it. But why?”

Olivia instinctively took a step back as she questioned him.

“Because I should enjoy the pleasure of unwrapping my gift.”

“……”

Olivia stared up at him in blank astonishment.

He loosened his bowtie, steadily closing the distance she had created.

“Don’t do this, Johann.”

Her cheeks flushed red, and she swallowed nervously.

“I don’t even have the strength to lift a finger.”

“Perfect then. You can rest, Olivia. I’ll be the one moving.”

As if it were the simplest thing in the world, Johann’s lips curled into a leisurely smile.

At the same time, he pulled Olivia closer, trapping her completely.

Turning her in his arms, he revealed her pale nape and smooth back, and a rush of heat surged within him.

“Let me go.”

Feeling his hot breath against her neck, Olivia struggled harder.

“I don’t want to.”

His fingers traced the protruding bone at the center of her nape, then slid slowly downward between her shoulder blades. Olivia shivered.

“Stop this. Miss Josephine’s room is right above us.”

“So what?”

“It’s the middle of the day…”

“It’s fine, Olivia.”

Unbuttoning the first clasp, he whispered against her ear.

His firm fingers slipped the second button free as he pulled her waist even tighter to him, preventing her from escaping.

Olivia gasped in shock.

“Since when…?”

Her faint sigh slipped out like a confession. She felt her consciousness already beginning to blur.

“From the moment you stepped out through that door.”

Johann, unable to admit he had wanted to undress her all along, pressed his lips to her nape and chuckled softly.

Her gentle scent only ignited him further.

The line of delicate buttons along her back, as fine as her eyelashes, came undone in quick succession. Johann tugged the dress down in one motion.

The next moment, Olivia clamped her hands over her mouth to stifle the cries threatening to burst out.

It was still broad daylight outside the window.

It had been an utterly exhausting day.

Standing for hours in the same position, bound in an uncomfortable dress, had left her whole body aching. But Johann’s tireless energy was the greater culprit.

By sunset, he was the first to rise from the bed.

After changing into his evening attire, Johann returned to her side, leaned down, and kissed Olivia lightly on the forehead where she lay buried in the blankets.

“Don’t wait up. Sleep first.”

His smooth fingers brushed tenderly at her eyes before he straightened up.

Olivia caught hold of his sleeve as he turned to leave. He looked back.

“…I don’t like other women touching you.”

The gray eyes gazing down at her deepened with an odd gleam, and then one corner of his lips lifted.

“Shall I cancel my appointment?”

“……”

Blushing furiously, Olivia pulled the blanket over her head. How could he twist her words like that?

“Absolutely not. Just go.”

A soft laugh escaped him. Truly, his stamina was unbelievable.

Olivia lay in his lingering warmth for a while before rising at Anne’s knock.

She hastily gathered the dress and clothing scattered across the carpet, then let Anne in.

“Dinner is served, my lady.”

“Where’s Miss Josephine?”

Olivia asked as Anne placed the silver tray on the table.

“She’s still in the studio.”

“I see.”

Olivia rubbed the back of her flushed neck and nodded faintly. Surely nothing had been overheard.

“I’ll wash up first.”

“I’ll help you.”

“No, Anne. Go see to your other duties.”

Olivia declined quickly.

The dress Johann had already removed, the pins he had carefully unfastened from her hair—there was nothing left she needed help with.

Besides, she was embarrassed to let anyone see the marks he had left on her skin.

“Then I’ll just hang the dress in the wardrobe.”

“Thank you, Anne.”

Olivia slipped into the bathroom alone.

As she sank into the warm water and closed her eyes, the image of Clara’s hand lingering on Johann replayed in slow motion in her mind.

A sigh escaped her lips, as it always did.

When would this unease finally leave her?

Even after the work ended and Clara left Greythill, the anxiety gnawing at her would not vanish.

It might even grow worse—especially on nights like this, when Johann had other engagements.

As long as Clara remained, surely it would never end.

Before her negative thoughts and the fear they spawned could grow too large, Olivia rose from the tub.

Under the shower spray, she rinsed away the bubbles and with them the unease. A sense of peace returned, however fragile, like a sandcastle waiting to crumble.

Still, she resolved to reclaim it each time. Olivia gripped her wavering heart and steadied herself.

When she emerged from the bathroom—

“……”

The bedroom was pitch-dark. Under the pale moonlight, the outlines of the furniture looked like ghosts.

Anne would never have left the room so dark. Since Olivia’s childhood, she had feared the pitch-black confession chamber, so Anne always kept a lamp lit by the bed.

Taking a slow breath, Olivia scanned the room. Her eyes stopped at the edge of the bed.

That…

On the bed, something gleamed faintly under the moonlight. Goosebumps prickled her arms in the chill air.

Swallowing hard, Olivia stepped past the vanity, past the sofa, and slowly approached the bed.

“!”

Her face drained of all color, and she barely suppressed a scream.

The wedding dress Anne had surely hung in the wardrobe earlier was lying on the bed.

But now, the beautiful gown was shredded to pieces, drenched in dark red blood.

Clara.

She was the only person Olivia could think of.

Her terror-filled eyes locked on the crimson-stained fabric.

It felt as though she herself were wearing the wedding gown, stabbed and bleeding out.

Gooseflesh crawled across her skin.