TMLITTKM | CHAPTER 07

Chapter 07 …

Aiden Wentworth.

The eldest son of the Wentworth dukedom and Amelia’s half-brother.

The moment I saw him, a flood of Amelia’s memories surged through me, dragging with them a tide of bitter emotions.

It didn’t take long to realise Amelia had despised this man.

“You’ve come, brother.”

I forced those feelings down, rose from the bed, and greeted him politely.

Aiden froze, caught off guard.

The old Amelia would have snapped at his insults, screaming back until the whole house shook.

And Aiden, seizing that excuse, would have lashed out with louder shouts using “lessons in etiquette” as cover for endless humiliation and beatings, whether she was ill or not.

It hadn’t been me who suffered those blows, yet her memories still seared my mind like afterimages.

Hitting a woman?

What a vile bastard.

But since I didn’t react as expected, Aiden’s bluster faltered momentarily.

Instead, his eyes roved around the room, and he clicked his tongue.

“What’s all this, a flower garden?

Must be swimming in money, huh?”

Does he actually think I bought these myself?

It doesn’t even cross his mind that maybe, just maybe, someone else might have sent them?

What a strange way to think.

I stared at him, lips half-parted, when Aiden stared right back at me as if I were the oddity.

“Not yelling at me for once?

Guess you really are sick.”

Yes, that would have been Amelia’s usual reaction.

And honestly, I couldn’t blame her for how she treated him.

Since I stayed quiet, Aiden scowled and prodded at one of the flower baskets with his foot.

“If you need flowers, just cut some from the garden.

Why bother with deliveries?

Making the kid run errands.”

“Who’s being bothered?”

“Uh, what… why’re you asking so many questions?

You little—!”

I knew exactly who he meant, but I feigned ignorance just to needle him.

He faltered, then snapped in irritation, raising his hand at me in a threatening gesture.

But realising he needed something from me, he lowered it slowly and finally got to the point.

“Hey… judging by all this, you must have some money to spare.

Lend me some.

I’m short this month.”

“My allowance isn’t even half of what you receive, brother.”

“That’s why I’m asking.

Better I use it than you wasting it on this useless junk, don’t you think?”

Again, he kicked at the flower basket.

Unbelievable.

A parasite through and through.

But picking a fight now would do me no good.

So I resorted to the obvious answer.

“I don’t have any.”

“What do you mean, don’t have any?”

“I already spent it.”

“On what?

What the hell did you blow it on?

Flowers like these, huh?

No wonder you’re broke.”

Wham!

Aiden’s kick sent the rose-filled basket sailing into the air.

Just as the door opened.

The person entering was showered in petals.

“Ugh.

What’s this?!”

“F-Father?”

It was none other than the Duke and Duchess of Wentworth.

“Aiden!

What on earth are you doing here?

Why are you in this child’s—no, in Amelia’s room?”

The duchess gasped, while the duke’s eyes blazed as he turned on Aiden.

Aiden stammered, flailing for an excuse.

“I-I… She was sick!

I just came to check on her!”

“If you came to check on her, then why is the flower basket flying through the air?”

A simple, obvious question—yet Aiden had no answer.

So, like the dutiful younger sister, I stepped in.

Cough, cough.

“Brother… was in some financial… cough difficulty… and came to ask me for help.

But I had so little to give… I’m afraid I couldn’t be much help.

Forgive me, brother.”

“You—!” Aiden’s face flushed red.

Cough, cough.

I quickly pressed a handkerchief to my lips, hiding the smile tugging at my mouth beneath a fit of coughing.

It was half a gamble.

Even if Amelia were deathly ill, even if Aiden was openly abusive, there was no guarantee her parents would side with her.

But the fact that the Duke of Wentworth himself had come into Amelia’s sickroom told me something.

He must have had important business with her—something that raised Amelia’s value in his eyes.

And thankfully, my guess was right.

The duke’s furious gaze swung toward Aiden.

“I already increased your allowance this month at your request.

And still, you came to pester Amelia?”

“F-Father, no, I-it’s not like that—!”

“Next month, it will be cut in half.”

“Father!”

“My lord!”

Aiden and the duchess cried out together.

Even I was surprised by how swiftly the duke acted, but I kept my head down, coughing faintly as if too weak to interfere.

Perhaps he considered it part of disciplining his children.

The duke glanced at me, then turned his wrath on his wife.

“And our daughter has been ill for days.

Why haven’t you summoned a physician?”

“Well, I… the maid said she didn’t seem that sick.”

Cough, cough.

“Father… I-I’m fine… really… cough, cough.”

Why this man was suddenly pretending to care for his daughter, I didn’t know—but I wasn’t about to waste the opportunity.

I let my frailty show in every breath, every cough, every trembling movement.

“Tsk.

At this rate…” The duke clicked his tongue, glaring down at me not with pity, but with thinly veiled displeasure.

“Father, look at all these flowers she’s bought!

If you’re going to cut my allowance, you should cut hers as well.”

“That’s right, my lord,” the duchess chimed in.

“What sick girl needs this many flowers?

Do you know how much they must have cost?”

The duke looked between the two of them as though they’d both lost their minds.

“Ha!

What nonsense are you spouting?

These flowers were sent by the Crown Prince.”

“…The Crown Prince?”

“Tch.

How can you live under the same roof and be so utterly oblivious?”

“The Crown Prince… why would he…?”

So they really hadn’t known.

In a way, it was almost impressive.

Now that they did, both Aiden and the duchess looked around at the flowers with newly calculating eyes.

“Out.

Both of you,” the duke ordered coldly.

“I have something to discuss with Amelia alone.”

Aiden stormed out, muttering under his breath, while the duchess lingered a moment longer, scrutinising the flower baskets with a thoughtful frown before following.

“Father?”

I looked up at him from the bed.

“Yes, Amelia.”

The Duke of Wentworth pulled a chair over and sat near the bed.

At least here, unlike in his study, he was actually looking at me.

But his gaze was far from gentle—more like he was reassessing my worth.

Behind him, lined neatly on the floor, the flower baskets flaunted their brilliant colours.

No doubt those flowers played their part.

Though, of course, they hadn’t been sent with anything as tender as affection in mind.

After a moment of silence, the duke finally spoke.

“You were right.”

I could already guess what would come next.

We’d never been ones for long conversations, after all.

“The Marquess of Moulton’s family.

Had I gotten entangled without looking closer, it would have been quite the nuisance.”

Feigning surprise, I answered, “Ah, so it was true.

I thought it was only a rumour.”

“Yes.

The Marchioness, bold as you please, staked the estate as collateral and joined a gambling ring.

Tsk.

The marquess himself doesn’t seem to know yet.”

The duke clicked his tongue, though there was a certain relish in his voice, as if the misfortune amused him.

“My goodness.

When he finds out, chaos will erupt.

Perhaps we should discreetly let him know?”

The duke’s lips twisted in a crooked smile as he waved his hand.

“No.

Leave that to me.

You needn’t concern yourself further.”

He was already plotting how to devour House Moulton whole.

I lowered my head in obedient acknowledgement.

“Yes, Father.”

“More importantly… are you well enough?”

The words carried no hint of worry.

If anything, his tone suggested: How much longer do you intend to languish like this?

“Not yet.

A little.”

“Recover quickly before he changes his mind.”

His eyes flicked briefly to the flower baskets behind him.

“Still,

I hadn’t expected this much.

Reports said the Crown Prince was avoiding you, but it seems relations aren’t as poor as I thought.”

“Well… who’s to say?”

“In any case, remember this.

A man is only as bound as a woman makes him.”

An antiquated line—but one heavy with meaning.

“You must capture him.

Without fail.”