Chapter 80
The party ended so peacefully it almost felt anticlimactic.
Though sharp gazes trailed Marsha throughout the evening, such scrutiny meant nothing to her.
“At least my lie didn’t get exposed,” she murmured softly as they walked down the corridor back to her room.
“Still bothering you?” Claudio arched a brow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
“They’re probably less curious about whether you’re truly a noble lady,” he said, “and more interested in what kind of reward the Railford family will get.”
But Claudio knew the real question on everyone’s mind.
They want to know if I’ll make her my duchess.
His eyes slid toward Marsha’s face. He had noticed it earlier, but now it was impossible to ignore.
“You don’t look so well.”
“Me?” She halted in front of her door, surprised. He stopped too, nodding.
“Be honest. Something happened while I was gone from the ballroom, didn’t it?”
“You’re asking me that again? I told you, nothing happened.” Marsha smiled faintly and reached for the doorknob.
“Thank you for escorting me. Then, good—”
“Wait.”
His voice stopped her hand. Marsha’s eyes widened as she looked up at him. Claudio, unusually hesitant, opened his mouth but then clenched his fingers into a fist to restrain himself.
“…Have a good night.”
“Why are you saying a simple good-night like you’re delivering a military report?” she teased with a shrug.
“Good night to you too, Your Grace.”
When Claudio nodded, Marsha slipped inside. Left standing in the corridor, Claudio covered his mouth with his hand.
I should’ve thought before holding her back.
But the sight of her smile had lifted his spirits. He hadn’t wanted the moment to end, so he clung to her with nothing at all to say.
And yet… she never asked about Lady Hermes.
He had expected Marsha to bring it up. He had even prepared an excuse: that he had invited her but only the marquis had come, so there was no need to worry anymore.
In truth, I never invited her at all.
If Marsha learned that, she would surely say the entire party had been pointless. Well, what of it? He could simply admit she was right and that he had been mistaken.
Even if the pretense of her acting as the Railford daughter became unnecessary, Marsha wouldn’t leave the ducal estate. She was too responsible, too mindful of the contract she had signed. Besides, after playing her role publicly, she would want to carry it out to the end.
The problem is me.
When would he finally be able to tell her—
Why have I kept you by my side?
Claudio hated delays, loathed retreating. Yet with Marsha, he couldn’t help moving carefully. Because it was her. Because she was the one person he held as truly special.
…Still, I don’t intend to drag this out forever.
He resumed walking, his steps weighed with reluctant regret. She was no longer beside him, and with each step away from her, the ache of missing her grew.
I really am in deep.
When did it come to this? Claudio chuckled at himself, but there was no dislike in the sound.
At his office door, he encountered Urian carrying reports.
“Did the party end well, my lord?” Urian asked, following him inside.
“As expected, with her absent, there was little trouble.”
A few drunken fools had clung to him, overstepping their place, but nothing unbearable.
“But Marsha must’ve been exhausted. They were staring at her so blatantly.”
Urian gave a rueful smile. She wasn’t someone who enjoyed such attention; she must have suffered through it.
“Anyway, what was it you came for?” Claudio asked.
“I found someone who recognizes that tattoo.”
“Oh?”
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