FRL 11

Chapter 11

He was a man who had kept a wall between himself and other people until well past the age of forty.

He had even earned the strange nickname “the Defective Duke” because he would give no one a second glance, no matter who approached him, always wearing that cold expression.

There was no way he could possibly be happy about getting married.

In that sense, Vanessa thought Ian had grown up exactly as he had been when he was young.

Still, she remembered the face he had shown her in her previous life when he had suddenly spoken to her on her birthday.

The man who was normally so blunt and taciturn had been unusually gentle that day. Gentle enough that she had even wondered if he was truly capable of speaking in such a warm voice.

Perhaps that was why she had believed Ian Ruscliffe wasn’t completely emotionless.

What a ridiculous misunderstanding.

The person she had proposed to now wasn’t the Ian Ruscliffe in his forties, but the Ian Ruscliffe in his twenties.

Sigh.

Vanessa quietly lowered the letter onto the bedside table.

It’s a contractual marriage anyway, isn’t it?

There was no reason for her to feel hurt, nor was there any reason to blindly let herself be dragged around by whatever he wanted.

They simply needed to hold the ceremony. Was there really any need to put so much effort into a wedding that held not even the slightest bit of excitement?

After all, she wanted only one thing.

I have to make sure the Marquess Leonard family doesn’t obtain a ducal title.

And that wasn’t the end of it.

She intended to ruin them so thoroughly that not even the foundation of their estate would remain.

If she wanted to take the first step toward accomplishing that, she had no time to waste on emotional matters.

This was a marriage she had forced through for the sake of her revenge.

Living a life where she placed her hopes in someone, only to be disappointed, and trusted someone, only to be hurt, was something she had already experienced once.

That was enough.

So she needed to stop attaching meaning to Ian’s actions.

The Ian in his forties and the Ian in his twenties were different people.

Even if the older Ian had been kind to her, that didn’t mean the younger Ian would be.

After making up her mind and reaffirming her resolve, Vanessa finally closed her eyes.

Think only of revenge.

“Her Grace the Duchess-to-be was quite adamant about her wishes… She said that if the jewels weren’t removed, she would wear the dress completely bare…”

Early that morning, Ian let out a quiet laugh at the salon employee’s words.

A bare dress?

He had always thought her choice of words was rather unrestrained, but…

After sending the salon madam away with instructions to do as Vanessa wished, Ian gazed silently out the window.

Did she really dislike them that much?

She usually enjoyed wearing jewelry and accessories, so he had assumed she would like them.

Remembering Vanessa in her fitting dress, Ian habitually placed a cigar between his lips.

“…What a shame. It suited her.”

The jewels embedded in the dress sparkled beneath the chandelier’s light.

Yet the brilliance of the gemstones themselves failed to capture his attention.

She was beautiful enough to overwhelm even the excessive sparkle of the jewels.

Whenever the gems around the neckline glittered, it looked as though a bright spotlight had been turned directly onto her face.

If nothing else, he had wanted her to wear those.

The more he thought about it, the faster the cigar between his lips burned.

“Why did it have to be me?”

If it had been him, he would never have chosen “Ian Ruscliffe” as a marriage partner.

Even when she had handed him that absurd contract, he had hoped she would reject him.

He had thought that watching her eventually bring up divorce would be worse than never marrying her at all.

Yet he couldn’t help wondering what she had been thinking when she had agreed to proceed with the marriage despite conditions that any ordinary woman would have rejected.

He had been curious, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

In truth, he already knew.

He simply didn’t want to hear her confirm it with her own lips.

But in the end, she had made it unmistakably clear, as though telling him not to even dream otherwise.

“What do you have to apologize for? It’s a contractual marriage, after all.”

A contractual marriage.

After confirming that she had no feelings for him, absurdly enough, a sense of hurt burst forth inside him.

He had endured it so well until now.

Yet he couldn’t even get past that one moment.

“…Is it that bastard again?”

Carlisle Leonard.

The man who was originally supposed to become Vanessa Charose’s husband.

Ian didn’t know what had gone wrong between them or how he had been given this opportunity, but he hated the idea of becoming Carlisle Leonard’s replacement.

So, in an attempt to gauge Vanessa’s true feelings, he had simply put into practice, one by one, all the things he had been considering.

…If it had been Carlisle instead of me.

Would Vanessa Charose have rejected those things as excessive?

“Damn it.”

It was childish beyond belief.

He had delayed giving her an answer about the marriage because he was afraid she would discover his secret. Then, because he couldn’t bear to lose her, he had accepted the marriage while piling condition upon condition onto the contract.

And now he was afraid she might divorce him.

If that was what he feared, he shouldn’t have agreed to marry her in the first place.

Crazy Ian Ruscliffe.

After mentally tearing himself apart, Ian suddenly hurried to extinguish the half-finished cigar and flung open the window.

“Denion!”

At his master’s shout, the butler came running in surprise.

“What is it, Your Grace?”

“Open every window in the house right now. Don’t miss a single one.”

“The windows? Why—”

Denion couldn’t finish his sentence.

A carriage bearing a red rose emblem had come into view.

“Ah…”

“Hurry. Move.”

Ian glared at Denion with eyes cold as frost, then sprayed perfume from the bottle on his desk all over himself.

And that wasn’t all.

He even straightened his slightly disheveled hair and clothing—the sort of behavior that could only come from someone who desperately wanted to look good in front of the person he liked.

If you like her that much, why did you put all those conditions in the contract…?

Denion kept the thought to himself and faithfully carried out his master’s orders.

“Everyone, stop what you’re doing and open the windows! Her Ladyship is arriving!”

At Denion’s booming voice from the first floor, Ian clenched his molars.

As he had always thought, that man was sometimes worse than the Crown Prince who occasionally came to visit.

For a butler, Denion had absolutely no filter when speaking to his master. And when it came to teasing Ian, he and the Crown Prince worked together almost perfectly.

Though Denion would vehemently deny it.

In any case, by the time Vanessa knocked on the door of the mansion, every window in the entire house had been opened.

I’ll dock his pay for a month.

If Denion hadn’t shouted, there was no doubt one or two windows would have remained unopened.

One month seemed like an appropriate punishment for teasing his master.

“Vanessa.”

“Ian.”

“I said I hoped you would make a prompt visit. I don’t recall saying you should make a sudden one.”

“I had something to tell you. But… do you normally keep every door and window in the mansion open?”

Vanessa, wrapped in a snow-white cape, shivered slightly.

Winter hadn’t arrived yet, but there were days when the wind felt as sharp as a blade.

Today was one of them.

“I get hot easily.”

It was an absurd excuse, but Ian looked down at Vanessa with a shameless expression.

He didn’t know why she had chosen him or what she was thinking.

Winning her heart without revealing his secret would be difficult.

But—

It isn’t impossible.

Now that she had walked into the tiger’s den of her own accord, Ian had no intention of letting this marriage end as nothing more than a contract.

Not even a little.

Vanessa looked once at Ian’s thin clothing, then once at the chaotic interior of the mansion behind him before meeting his eyes again.

Even if he was sensitive to heat, wasn’t this a bit much? It was still cold outside, yet he kept every door and window open?

She casually shifted her gaze toward the servants.

As expected.

Apparently, Ian was the only one who felt hot.

Especially that butler.

Was his name Denion?

The moment he stood directly in front of an open window, he shivered violently as the cold wind blew over him.

Vanessa let out a small sigh.

“Are you planning to keep doing this even after I move into this mansion?”

“Everywhere except your room.”

“I suppose I should be grateful that you’re preventing unnecessary misunderstandings.”

“What—”

“I just sent word to the salon to have the jewels removed from the neckline of the dress. No matter how I think about it, they were too excessive. Still, since you prepared the dress for me, I thought I should come and tell you in person.”

Before Ian could finish speaking, Vanessa quickly delivered everything she had come to say and exhaled as though relieved.

“That’s all I had to say. I’m leaving. See you at the wedding.”

“Vanessa…”

Bang.

Unlike when she had demanded marriage, the mansion door slammed shut without mercy.

Ian stood there frozen, his face blank.

“Oh dear…”

A sympathetic sigh came from behind him.

There was no need to look to know exactly who it had been.

“…Denion. Three months’ pay cut.”

“What? No, Your Grace, that’s—!”

“Six months.”

“Three months was far too merciful a punishment.”

Of course, everyone in the mansion knew why their master had opened the windows.

But from the perspective of the future mistress, who knew nothing about it, the situation naturally seemed absurd.

Apparently, their master didn’t realize that at all.

Denion knew perfectly well about his master’s desperate unrequited love, so he couldn’t bring himself to explain that the windows had been opened because his master’s perfume was so strong that it was difficult to endure.

That scent was practically a curse for his master.

How could Denion possibly understand the feelings of a man who had been unable to reveal his affection even after years of secretly loving someone, all because he couldn’t break that single curse?

So Denion quietly gestured to the servants standing behind him to close the windows.

There was no point leaving them open now that the perfume had already dispersed.

Besides, Denion was particularly sensitive to the cold, and the wind blowing down his back made his teeth chatter.

If he showed that he was cold while the mistress was there, she would surely have misunderstood.

Watching his friends make fools of themselves was amusing, refreshing, and satisfying.

Watching his master make a fool of himself, however, was painful.

If things went wrong, he knew he would be the one left to deal with the consequences.

You endured well, Denion.

Just then, another gust of wind blew, making Denion hunch his shoulders as he muttered unconsciously,

“Ugh, it’s cold.”

“Six months’ pay cut.”

Damn it!