Chapter : 37
Surprisingly, Samantha was the one who hadn’t changed at all. She was still innocent and naive, unaware of the ugliness of the world. Like a flower blooming beautifully in a warm greenhouse where no wind could enter.
“Yes. You haven’t changed at all. You’re still the Jackie I liked.”
Samantha’s voice turned faint, as if she were tracing back old memories.
“Even back then, when Elizabeth used to laugh and call me a rolling cake. No one would even talk to me because they were intimidated by Elizabeth’s influence—but you, Jackie, you treated me like I was normal.”
“Did I?”
“Yeah. That’s when I started liking you, Jackie.”
Samantha smiled softly. The affection in her eyes made Jacqueline feel strangely warm, as if she had buried her face into Colin’s body.
So Jacqueline ended up smiling too.
Reconnecting a bond she thought had been severed was a tiring process, carrying both comfort and bitterness—but it wasn’t as bad as she had expected.
Jacqueline exhaled slowly as she lifted her teacup to her lips.
Roman looked down at the garden visible beyond Windsor’s back. The study on the second floor of the mansion had a fine view, and the large greenhouse stood out especially clearly.
As he stared absentmindedly, Roman suddenly narrowed his eyes. Someone had appeared in the once-quiet garden.
It was Jacqueline and Benjamin, both wearing straw hats.
What are they doing down there?
He frowned slightly as he watched the two crouched under an almond tree. Their straw hats were pressed closely together.
He was curious, but the wide brims blocked everything from view. Just as he unconsciously leaned forward—
“Where is James Hemington?”
A cold voice cut through the air. Roman tore his gaze away from the window and scratched his forehead.
“He’s hired a lawyer, it seems. Apparently, he must have more money than he knows what to do with, despite being accused of fraud. I heard he’s hired two of the most expensive lawyers in the kingdom.”
He paused briefly, then added in a lower voice:
“One of the lawyers appointed by His Majesty the King is among them. The name was… Parker O’Brien, I believe.”
“I see.”
Windsor responded indifferently.
Roman continued, “But—”
He looked toward Windsor’s desk.
“From what I hear, the prosecution intends to request testimony from Miss Somerset.”
“Did she not already give a statement to the officers?”
“They seem to need her testimony for the trial.”
Windsor’s usually expressionless brow furrowed slightly. He nodded, signaling Roman to continue.
“As you know, in cases where evidence is unclear, witnesses are crucial. There’s nothing more persuasive than the victim herself appearing in court. It helps convince the judge. Besides, most nobles don’t even report fraud—but Miss Somerset was different. The prosecution believes she will cooperate actively in this trial.”
“Testimony…”
Windsor repeated the word quietly.
Roman nodded as if he understood what Windsor was thinking.
“But will Miss Somerset agree to testify? Even reporting James Hemington caused a storm of articles to appear—and not friendly ones at that. The same goes for society gossip. It’s rather cruel to pressure her into testifying.”
Windsor said nothing, staring at the empty wall.
He knew better than anyone what kind of rumors she had been subjected to.
Some said it was for compensation. Others claimed it was for attention.
Then he remembered her words—that to some nobles, honor mattered more than money. That must be why Lord Somerset had not acted even after being defrauded.
But Jacqueline had reported James Hemington anyway, fully aware of the consequences.
Windsor’s eyes sank deeply.
Had he, perhaps, pushed her into a corner?
At that moment—
“I will do it.”
“…Pardon? Do what?”
Roman blinked blankly, a beat late.
Windsor slowly turned his eyes toward him.
“The testimony. Inform the prosecution of an exact date and time.”
Roman blinked several times, then his eyes widened in shock.
“You mean… Your Lordship will testify?”
Windsor did not respond. He was not someone who took back his words, and Roman knew he never repeated himself twice.
Roman unconsciously stepped closer to the desk, then glanced out the window—but Jacqueline and the others were already gone.
“If you do this, you’ll become the main target. You weren’t even the victim of the fraud—it was only an attempted one.”
Roman scratched his head again, now clearly frustrated.
“Everyone’s already watching your movements. If you appear as a witness in court… the press and society will tear into you. Especially His Majesty the King.”
“I don’t care.”
“There’s no need to throw yourself to the sharks…”
Roman paused.
His eyes narrowed as realization struck.
“Don’t tell me… are you doing this in Miss Somerset’s place?”
Windsor frowned slightly at that.
A brief, chilling silence fell.
Roman straightened his posture and clasped his hands behind his back.
Windsor’s emotionless voice followed:
“I’m simply curious about how skilled the King’s lawyer is. If I can deal a blow to him in the process, it would be a useful preemptive strike.”
“…Ah. I see.”
Roman replied flatly.
For some reason, it felt like Windsor was hurriedly justifying himself, but Roman had enough sense not to say it aloud.
Windsor asked calmly, “How is our lawyer selection going?”
“Ah, you mean someone skilled who isn’t under His Majesty’s influence?”
Sensing Windsor’s mood had eased slightly, Roman relaxed.
“Not easy. If they’re skilled, they avoid the King. If they’re not influenced by him, they’re usually not skilled… I’m starting to wonder if such a person even exists.”
“Hm.”
Windsor knew it was not easy.
The King’s network was vast—far beyond his own.
His web was dense; only the smallest fish slipped through.
“Small fry, then.”
“Pardon?”
Roman tilted his head at the sudden remark.
Just then—
Knock, knock.
The sound of knocking broke the silence.
Roman quickly went to the door and opened it.
Jacqueline stood in the hallway, looking slightly startled.
“I came because I thought your work hours would be finishing soon. I didn’t expect you to have a guest. I’ll come back later if it’s inconvenient.”
“Oh.”
Roman smiled faintly, surprised she knew Windsor’s rigid schedule.
“Please come in.”
Windsor’s voice came from behind him.
Roman stepped aside.
“I’m finished here.”
“Thank you.”
Jacqueline entered gracefully. The door clicked shut behind her.
Roman left the room.
Jacqueline walked toward the desk.
“What brings you here? It’s a bit early for tea.”
“My tea etiquette is already excellent, thanks to you, Lord Preston. I won’t need further criticism. I came for something else.”
Windsor nodded.
“Speak.”
“Would it be alright if I go out this Sunday?”
Windsor looked at her steadily.
Jacqueline added quickly, as if it were an excuse:
“I have an appointment I can’t refuse.”
“With a friend, I assume.”
Windsor asked casually, recalling the visitor from yesterday.
“Yes… well…”
She trailed off awkwardly, avoiding his gaze.
Windsor nodded again, magnanimously.
“Do as you wish.”
“Thank you for your consideration, Lord Preston. I’ll return on time.”
She bowed and left.
Windsor checked his pocket watch.
It was time to receive William’s report on the estate.
He rang the bell on his desk.
Footsteps approached.
Jacqueline checked her reflection in the shop window one more time.
A young lady wearing a hat, parasol, and gloves looked back at her.
Out of fashion, perhaps—but not bad.
She lifted her chin slightly and walked inside gracefully. A staff member opened the door.
“Are you meeting someone?”
Before she could even look around, someone stood up.
It was Evan Knox, smiling brightly.
He had clearly been watching the entrance the entire time.
“I’ve found my companion.”
“I’ll show you to your seat.”
Jacqueline followed the staff to Evan’s table.
He adjusted his tie slightly, looking a little nervous.
“Miss Somerset, you are as radiant as sunshine today.”
“Thank you, Mr. Knox.”
She sat opposite him with a polite smile.
Formal greetings—something she hadn’t experienced in a long time. It felt almost refreshing.
Unlike the stoic Lord Preston.
Evan ordered coffee and looked at her again.
His blue eyes, like a summer sky, held a gentle warmth.
He looked so excited she almost worried he might float away.
Jacqueline imagined the disappointment that would soon cloud his face—and smiled faintly, a trace of bitterness in it.