TTPD 18

Chapter 18

Poisoning Plan (8)

There weren’t many chances to compare, so he hadn’t realized it before.

But seeing Edith’s radiant face now reminded Grayson that she had worn the same clear expression when they first met.

‘Does she like taking walks?’

But they had walked along the Tevern River on their last date.

‘Does she like squirrels?’

Remembering how he felt when she uttered the words “squirrel family,” Grayson let out a soft laugh.

A squirrel family.

If she were a child, perhaps—but never in his life had he imagined hearing such a phrase from a grown woman.

A squirrel family.

What a peaceful and adorable set of words.

Grayson didn’t even notice he was smiling until he spoke.

“Miss Edith. There’s something I’d like you to promise me.”

“Yes, please go ahead.”

“I’d prefer it if we didn’t have sudden changes to our plans in the future.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t promise that.”

“Why not?”

“Because sometimes I might want to do this.”

“Do this?”

“I’m a woman afflicted with madness, remember? My mood changes in an instant.”

“Ah, madness.”

He hadn’t thought about how often she was called a “madwoman” in quite some time.

He hadn’t expected she would wield that disgrace so casually, and the thought amused him.

“I see. Madness.”

“You accepted this marriage knowing about my madness, Your Grace. So I believe this part is something you must endure.”

On their fifth official date, she seemed bolder than before—but he didn’t dislike it.

Their unpredictable exchanges were entertaining, and Grayson decided he could tolerate her madness.

Their conversation paused there, but it wasn’t awkward or dull.

The carriage rolled quietly until it stopped at the entrance of Pinero Park.

“My lord, we’ve arrived.”

With the coachman’s announcement, the carriage door opened. Grayson stepped down first and extended his hand toward Edith.

Edith did not take his hand right away.

She carefully gathered the basket-shaped bag and parasol she had left inside the carriage, checking them one by one before finally placing her hand in Grayson’s.

‘So it was a picnic basket. Not madness—a plan?’

He had never been particularly interested in women’s accessories, so even when she carried a basket that didn’t match her outfit, he hadn’t found it odd.

She left it in the carriage before entering the theater, and even while talking about wanting to walk in Pinero Park, he hadn’t connected her basket-shaped bag to anything.

‘Was there a reason she had to come to Pinero Park?’

Edith opened her parasol.

This time, she didn’t suggest sharing it with him.

The two walked side by side along the central path of Pinero Park.

On both sides stretched long flowerbeds newly arranged to welcome spring.

Even in the slightly chilly air, the blooming flowers proudly displayed their vibrant petals.

Grayson suddenly realized something.

‘When was the last time I walked a path like this?’

No—was this the first time?

He had always divided his time by the minute.

Leisurely walks had never existed in his schedule.

For physical training, he exercised intensely in the practice hall, so he had no reason to take strolls.

Walking down an empty path, slowly, with no purpose—he had always thought it a waste of time.

Something he would never do unless it was part of a date.

But seeing Edith walking beside him at an easy pace made even this useless act feel… not so bad.

“Your Grace Myers.”

Her gentle voice stopped him just as they reached the park’s central plaza.

Because the weather was nice, many people had come out for picnics.

Groups sat on neatly kept lawns, blankets spread under them.

But Edith, who had been walking toward her destination without looking around, flinched and turned at the unfamiliar voice.

A woman in a fluttering pink dress stood looking up at Grayson.

Her fair skin and half-tied golden hair shone under the sunlight.

“I never imagined I’d see you in a place like this…”

She smiled up at him with wide, bright eyes.

Grayson cast her a detached glance before speaking.

“Lady Mason.”

Only then did Edith recall who she was.

Belita Mason.

One of the women Lillian despised most.

And one of the names often mentioned as a suitable bride for Grayson.

Belita was well-known in society, but Edith—who rarely attended parties—was seeing her for the first time.

‘No wonder Lillian hated her.’

Belita’s slightly downturned eyes and soft features made her look gentle and lovely, like a young doe.

“The Elman tea you sent last time—I received it well. Its scent was wonderful.”

So… they exchanged gifts.

In reality, there had been an official transaction between Grayson and the Earl of Mason, and the department store under Grayson’s ownership had sent a courtesy gift.

But Edith, unaware of such details, could only misunderstand.

And that misunderstanding was exactly what Belita intended.

Belita couldn’t hide her delight at meeting Grayson.

The faint rosy blush on her white cheeks made even Edith think she looked charming.

“I’m glad it pleased you.”

“Anything Your Grace gives would please me.”

Even as Belita expressed her feelings in a voice as soft as a spring breeze, Grayson’s expression did not change.

“That is fortunate. It means I won’t have to think too carefully about future gifts for the Mason family.”

Even the implication—I could send you anything—did not break Belita’s smile.

“Whatever the reason, simply lingering in Your Grace’s thoughts is happiness enough.”

Edith clicked her tongue inwardly.

Both of them were impressive—Grayson for maintaining such coldness even before a beautiful lady’s honest affection, and Belita for taking such a chilly reply without flinching.

Yes—this was society.

Edith had sometimes been dragged to parties so Wyatt could show he did not discriminate against his legal daughter, but she usually left after showing her face.

She had never seen, up close, a setting filled with such elegant blades.

Grayson’s blade drew a line between him and Belita.

Belita’s blade was aimed directly at Edith.

‘She’s treating me as if I don’t exist.’

In this city, there wasn’t a single soul who didn’t know that Grayson and Edith were to be married.

Even common children ran around singing, “The duke’s been caught by the witch!”

Yet no matter the reason, even with Edith—his fiancée—standing right beside him, Belita did not spare her a single glance.

At that moment, Grayson’s hand naturally settled on Edith’s shoulder.

His arm wrapped around her lightly, almost protectively, drawing her closer as he spoke.

“Then we’ll be going.”

The instant Belita saw Grayson’s hand resting on Edith’s shoulder, her eyes trembled for the first time.

Belita’s expression flickered with disbelief before she quickly smoothed it over and smiled softly.

“I seem to have taken too much of Your Grace’s time.”

‘And mine as well.’

Even now, while Belita continued to ignore her completely, Edith silently applauded the unwavering rudeness.

“It’s fortunate Lady Mason is someone who worries about others’ time.”

Grayson’s words were a polite translation of Yes, you stole plenty of my time.

There was no way Belita didn’t understand it, but she continued wearing that sweet, gentle smile.

“Please allow me just another moment, Your Grace. We’ve already sent an invitation to your residence, but we haven’t received a reply yet. It would be an honor if you would grace our garden party with your presence.”

The weather was warming—soon the season when noble households hosted garden parties.

Unlike last year, Edith had received a flood of invitations this year; everyone was curious about the woman who would marry Grayson.

But every invitation passed through Wyatt before reaching her hands.

And Edith, not wanting to stir unnecessary trouble before the wedding, hadn’t objected to his handling of them.

As if she knew this very fact, Belita’s gaze turned to Edith for the first time.

“Lady Reynolds as well.”

Edith prayed Grayson would refuse.

She had never once experienced something good at a party.

And this time, she could already foresee what would happen—everyone would whisper, point fingers at her, pity Grayson, and search for any flaw to pry the two of them apart.

For someone who must become the duchess, this was an event she wanted to avoid at all costs.