Chapter 136
A Changed Landscape
Great Hill was a place where the cold arrived early and lingered late.
As the sun began to set, the temperature dropped, chilling the skin.
Anne was tending the fire in the duchess’s bedroom, adding more logs and adjusting the flames.
Just then, a voice called from the study adjoining the bedroom.
“Anne.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Anne hung the poker back in its place and went to the study.
The red sunset hung heavily over her lady’s small shoulders as she sat at the desk.
“You called for me?”
“Anne, I have a favor to ask.”
“Please, go ahead.”
Her lady’s expression was dark. What could it be? Anne felt herself tense up without realizing it.
“I need you to go to this place. As discreetly as possible.”
Olivia handed her a slip of paper with an address copied from the newspaper classifieds. Anne’s brown eyes widened.
Allen Detective Agency.
“……”
Anne was curious, but as always, she did not ask questions first. Olivia was always grateful for that consideration.
Anne was the only person she could truly trust. But if her maid went snooping around about Clara, anyone would find it suspicious.
“This is the letter with the details of the request.”
Anne accepted it with both hands. The envelope, sealed tightly with wax, bore no writing on the outside.
“I didn’t disclose who the client is.”
Which meant: if they asked, handle it appropriately.
“I understand, my lady.”
Anne nodded.
“Then I leave it to you. Please be careful.”
Locking eyes briefly with Olivia, Anne tucked the letter into her chest and left the study.
Olivia exhaled a long sigh, rose from her seat, and crossed the bedroom to the fireplace. Standing there, rubbing her chilled fingertips, she felt her heart beating a little faster.
Was Clara telling the truth when she said she had no allergies?
And what is it that I truly wish the answer to be?
Olivia stared into the quiet flames for a long time.
All she could do now was wait for the detective’s report. Until then, she would withhold judgment about Clara.
Olivia’s days had grown busier. That was one of the changes since Clara had arrived at the estate.
Previously, Olivia had not concerned herself with meal selections, but now she oversaw everything carefully—from meals to tea.
If Clara were just an ordinary painter, she wouldn’t have bothered. But this was the daughter of a count and an admiral.
Moreover, the Sinclair family was closely tied to the formidable Lady Margaret Wellington.
Olivia had no desire to give Lady Wellington—who already disapproved of her reunion with Johann—any excuse to call her unfit as the duchess.
“I’m so sorry, because of me. I’m not troubling you too much, am I?”
“Not at all. I usually take a walk at this hour anyway.”
Olivia answered with a quiet smile. She had accompanied Clara into the autumn gardens at Clara’s request.
“Thank you for saying that.”
Eyes the same shade of blue as Olivia’s curved into a charming smile.
Clara was slender, with a build similar to Olivia’s, but her pure white skin and jet-black hair gave her a completely different aura.
Smiling back at the woman with such a strikingly clear presence, Olivia resumed walking down the path.
Both women, shaded by parasols, walked in silence past a small fountain and through waist-high shrubs.
Birdsong filled the silence that had settled around them.
Olivia was gazing at the rustling trees in the distance when Clara spoke.
“Does that path lead to the lake?”
Olivia followed Clara’s gaze. Beyond the garden, a trail stretched into the shadow of the cedars, dark and foreboding.
“Yes.”
“Would it be alright if we went there?”
Clara looked at her with a bright smile.
“Since I grew up by the sea, I always felt stifled whenever I came to the city. But to think there’s a lake here as beautiful as the sea—this place is truly wonderful.”
The unexpected suggestion put Olivia in a bind.
Johann had asked her not to go to the lake, but more than that, a sudden chill of unease made her hesitate.
Surely not…
But then a faint smile crossed Olivia’s face.
What am I thinking…
Pushing aside needless emotions, Olivia spoke calmly.
“The wind is too sharp today for a walk by the lake. It would be better another time. The forest blocks the sunlight, so it’s colder there.”
It was a flimsy excuse, but Clara, raised in a port city, accepted it easily.
“The sea is like that too. Some days it’s calm, and on others, mischievous winds whip it into a tantrum.”
Her innocent, sparkling eyes and guileless smile made Olivia feel guilty.
Clara meant no harm at all, and yet here she was, hiding her suspicions and guarding herself.
But until she knew whether Clara truly had a nut allergy or not, she couldn’t let her guard down.
At the border where the garden path met the trail to the lake, they turned back.
Anne and Clara’s maid followed quietly behind.
As they returned to the estate, Clara spoke about her hometown, Wailowe, adding that it was the city where Duke Leopold had served as a naval officer for two years.
A naval officer and the daughter of an admiral…
As romantic a pairing as a wounded duke and a commoner nurse.
“You were in the same city—was your first meeting at the King Trafalgar’s launching ceremony?”
Olivia asked curiously.
“The duke’s office and residence were quite a distance away. I was only twelve then, spending my days running along the shore and playing with seabirds.”
“I see.”
Olivia replied, picturing Johann in a pristine white uniform, glittering medals on his chest, and a dress cap atop neatly combed platinum hair.
Before long, they had left the gardens. Clara closed with an invitation: if Olivia ever visited her beautiful hometown, she must let her know.
Then the two women returned to their respective rooms.
The next day, as the sunset blazed at its peak, Johann returned.
As always, Olivia stood at the head of the line of servants assembled to greet him. The only difference this time was the deeper autumn colors of the trees—and Clara.
“Welcome home, Your Grace.”
Clara beamed at Johann as she stepped down from the carriage. At the same moment, Olivia, who had been about to step forward, faltered.
It was only because the carriage had stopped closer to Clara that Johann’s eyes met hers first.
But Olivia felt as if an invisible wall had risen between them.
Clara greeting her returning husband—like a scene out of a storybook—left her mind blank.
In that instant, Olivia felt like a complete outsider.
Swallowing hard, she pulled back the step she had taken forward.
She wanted to run. To flee before she was hurt. To abandon before being abandoned. That had been Jian’s way of protecting herself all her life.
But had that life ever been happy?
Releasing her bitten lip, Olivia stepped forward again.
“You’re back?”
Looking up at Johann, she smiled gently, like the twilight sky.
Turning to her, Johann pulled the corner of his lips upward and wrapped an arm around her waist.
His lips brushed her forehead. Normally, Olivia would have pushed him away in embarrassment, wary of the servants’ eyes. But this time, she returned the gesture, lightly embracing his shoulders.
“I’m back, Olivia.”
“Welcome home.”
She whispered, linking her arm through his.
As they turned toward the mansion together, Olivia felt eyes on her back.
She wondered what expression they wore but didn’t look back. Whatever the future held, Johann was her husband now.
Suppressing her negative thoughts, she matched her steps to his and climbed the stairs.
As they entered the mansion, glowing red in the fiery sunset, the gaze behind her vanished.
I will not doubt her until word comes from Allen Detective Agency.
That resolve still held.
And that evening, right on schedule, Anne returned from visiting the detective’s office.
Under the lamplight on her desk, Olivia opened the envelope. Her eyes sank heavily.
“……”
Her fingertips trembled as she held the small note.
What had I been expecting?
Olivia was confused.
No allergy.
Clara’s words had not been a lie.
She was simply a genuine young lady, who loved painting and the sea, with no deception or pretense.
A sigh slipped from Olivia. She calmed her scattered heart.
Rising, she walked to the fireplace and tossed the paper into the flames.
With a crackle, the fire consumed it into ash.
So much had diverged from the original story, but one thing had not changed: Clara, the heroine of this world, was good.
Which meant there was only one variable.
Johann Leopold.
He was the one who fell in love first. He was the one who, wracked with guilt over the duchess, would chase after Clara with mad obsession when she fled.
So the one Olivia truly had to worry about was not Clara—
but Johann, her husband.
