~Chapter 88~
The newly revised wedding invitations set Estus’s social circle buzzing.
“Why would they suddenly move the wedding date up? This week, of all times.”
“Well, who knows the real reason? But isn’t there only one thing we can guess?”
“What do you mean……?”
As the noblewomen exchanged looks, one bold and talkative woman spoke up.
“Maybe she’s pregnant.”
“Oh my, how improper! Before marriage? For a great noble lady—how could she!”
The noblewomen fanned themselves faster, yet every face looked delighted.
“But if she’s carrying her fiancé’s child, maybe it’s a blessing. He’s a foreigner, but I heard he’s incredibly rich.”
“They might even be bringing him in as a son-in-law to the Horace family.”
Their chatter went on endlessly. A woman who had been secretly listening let out a quiet sigh.
‘First the Countess of Crenbel, and now Gwendolyn.’
It was the Dowager Lady of Constantine.
After visiting the Enshuber Dress Shop, she had spent time alone in her mansion. This was her first outing in a while, ever since receiving Gwendolyn’s second wedding invitation.
She needed a proper dress, but everywhere she went, all she heard were stories about Gwendolyn.
Rosmalyn bit her lip hard.
They knew nothing. But Rosmalyn knew everything.
No matter how tightly doors were closed, there was no way she wouldn’t know what happened inside the mansion.
She knew about the disturbance caused when Gwendolyn sneaked into the Grand Duchess’s bedroom. She also knew about the maid who had been driven out in tears.
How could the head of the household not know such things? Rosmalyn ground her teeth.
‘Ever since that girl came in, everything has fallen apart.’
She recalled what happened in the salon that day—already reshaped to suit her own taste.
‘She’s rude because she was never properly taught. She never reflects on her own faults and only blames others. Tsk. I really don’t understand why Baldwin fell for a woman like that.’
Rosmalyn’s eyes flashed sharply.
Gwendolyn must have entered the Grand Duchess’s bedroom for Baldwin’s sake. She probably wanted to reveal Anais’s true nature and open his eyes.
But the blinders Baldwin wore for that woman were simply too thick. Otherwise, none of this made sense.
‘Just a baron’s daughter. A girl from a rootless family!’
She had already investigated Barnaby again.
What kind of man Baron Barnaby was, and how Anais had grown up treated.
There was no difference from Rosmalyn at all. Anais hadn’t wandered around earning money thanks to a patron, but in the end, she was still the useless daughter of a low-ranking noble.
No different from Rosmalyn’s own father.
There was no way Anais could be right.
The voices beside her continued.
“Are you attending the wedding this time?”
“Yes. If only to show my face to the Marchioness Horace. But I won’t bring my daughter. If it really is a premarital pregnancy…… I can’t show that to a child who isn’t even married yet.”
“You’re right. I should leave my youngest at home too.”
“Same here. It’s better to leave Ellie behind.”
Premarital pregnancy, indeed. That was all Anais’s scheme. That woman must have planned everything.
Rosmalyn pursed her lips.
She wanted to wake those ignorant noblewomen up, but eavesdropping on their conversation would itself be improper.
For the sake of her dignity as the Dowager Lady of Constantine, Rosmalyn decided to remain silent.
Still—
‘I’ll handle Anais myself. What could a woman like her possibly know? I’ve endured years in Constantine myself.’
Was she really incapable of dealing with one young woman?
‘Dragging others into it is what caused all this. What sin did the Countess of Crenbel and Gwendolyn commit?’
She could not abandon everything just because of a young woman who believed money could buy anything.
Besides, Anais had already declared war on Rosmalyn as well.
‘Cutting the budget? How absurd.’
Rosmalyn clenched her teeth.
What daughter-in-law dares to cut her mother-in-law’s budget?
She had never been taught such a thing.
For years, she had obeyed her own mother-in-law—doing as she was told, giving what was demanded.
After her husband’s sudden death, she had endured endless blame and insults.
‘It’s all your fault. Sending your husband south was your mistake. Your husband being bewitched by that fox of a woman was your fault too! If you had done better, would your husband have gone south with her and died like that?’
Each time, Rosmalyn had begged in apology outside her mother-in-law’s door.
Her mother-in-law’s illness, her loss of appetite—everything became Rosmalyn’s fault.
Until the very end—
‘You worthless baron’s daughter!’
She never became the Grand Duchess.
So Anais shouldn’t either.
Rosmalyn could never acknowledge her.
She grabbed the brochure roughly in her hand.
‘I can’t fall apart.’
She would protect Constantine.
And she would show her mother-in-law—who had never acknowledged her—to the very end how she had protected and loved Constantine.
The wedding of Gwendolyn, moved forward so suddenly, was attended by Baldwin and me.
Estus’s social circle was a small world.
Most of the capital’s nobles would surely be there. There was no need for us to isolate ourselves.
And this was also a warning to Gwendolyn.
A warning that I was still watching.
Despite being rushed, the wedding preparations were flawless.
People gathered to congratulate Gwendolyn.
I held tightly onto Baldwin’s arm. He looked at me with curious eyes, his lips—pressed together again in front of others—curving attractively.
Even when Baldwin did not speak, he was aggressive in bed. There, he never yielded to me.
But right now, it felt even stronger.
‘Anna. It’s fine. You like it too.’
Baldwin was a tyrant in bed. How dangerously sexy his deep voice sounded there was something only I knew.
My cheeks felt hot, so I rubbed them and lowered my head to avoid his gaze.
He patted the back of my hand and pulled me into his arms. I felt like I could hear his voice.
‘It’s okay, Anna.’
It was not okay at all. It felt like being dragged back into that night.
I let out a small breath. Remember, this is a wedding hall.
Marquis Horace approached us. He carefully read our expressions.
“Your Highnesses. I never expected you to attend. It is a great honor.”
His face was pale. He couldn’t meet my eyes, nor could he properly meet Baldwin’s.
As expected.
He knew what Gwendolyn had done.
He knew his daughter was mad.
“I don’t see the Marchioness,” I said.
“……She suddenly caught a contagious illness. Unfortunately, she couldn’t attend today.”
Marquis Horace smiled awkwardly.
“It must be very hard to send away the daughter you raised so well.”
His expression twitched. Looking pale, he answered,
“……Thank you for saying that, Grand Duchess.”
He stepped closer and added,
“Gwen will never return to Estus. I promise you, Lady Rain.”
“Thank you, Marquis. It puts my mind at ease to hear you’ve taken such care. There won’t be any more unpleasant incidents.”
“Yes, Lady Rain……!”
Baldwin wrapped an arm around my shoulders, signaling we should move on. He lightly kissed my cheek.
My mind went blank.
So I failed to notice the look Marquis Horace gave me.
Gwendolyn wept. Even the lavish reception failed to enter her eyes.
The Marchioness Horace had been slapped by her husband. Her face was bruised, and she lay in bed after barely being forgiven instead of being cast out.
Gwendolyn had only avoided Marquis Horace’s wrath because of the wedding.
‘Never return to Estus again, you disaster. I will no longer consider you my daughter. You are no longer a Horace. I will erase your name from the registry—never even think of returning to this family!’
How could her father say that to her?
Gwendolyn couldn’t understand what was happening. Anais must have broken her promise and told her father everything.
Yet, bitterly, there was nothing she could do anymore.
With tear-filled eyes, she followed Anais and Baldwin with her gaze. They were fantasies she could no longer reach.
Her eyes met Baldwin’s.
From the way he coldly turned his head away, she read rejection.
Gwendolyn trembled.
She saw Anais greeting Aska.
Her shoulders shrank.
‘Don’t tell me…… even my husband? That vile woman!’
She hurriedly tried to stand, but the weight of the jewels and dress pressing on her shoulders made it impossible to move.
They were things she had begged Aska to buy.
And now, they were also the weight she had to bear.
She saw Baldwin walking away with Aska.
Baldwin turned back once more, his gaze cold, and looked at Gwendolyn.
In that moment, like being struck by lightning, she realized the truth.
It wasn’t Anais.
“…Baldwin……”
It was him.
He was the one who met Marquis Horace and made him cast her aside.
Baldwin looked like a massive beast protecting Anais—baring his fangs at anyone who threatened her.
Only now, after losing everything, did Gwendolyn understand that fierce warning.
She staggered and collapsed back into her seat.
