Chapter : 48
After a moment, Evan—who had looked as if he’d just been struck in the back of the head—nodded with a faint smile. He rose from his seat a little late and took Windsor’s hand.
“Let’s proceed that way. I’m sure you’ll end up contacting me again.”
He spoke with a confident tone, his expression mild and composed.
Windsor, who had only faintly furrowed his brow, turned without another word and left the room.
Roman, who had been waiting at the door without Windsor noticing, asked, “Did your discussion go well?”
Then, noticing Windsor’s stiff expression, he glanced past him into the room.
“Oh? That person is…?”
Roman seemed about to recognize the familiar young man, but instead followed after Windsor’s retreating steps.
Escorted by the butler, Windsor boarded his carriage. Only after it passed through the gates of the Chamberlain estate did he finally open his tightly sealed lips.
“Look into Evan Knox. What kind of person he is as a lawyer, and…”
“And?” Roman prompted.
Windsor turned his gaze out the window and fell silent. Roman waited for an answer, but none came.
After a moment, Roman nodded. “Understood.”
The carriage moved slowly through the long private grounds lined with palm trees.
Cicadas screamed loudly. The season had already crossed into the threshold of summer.
*****
Windsor knew whose steady footsteps were approaching down the corridor, yet he did not lift his head. As if deliberately ignoring the sound.
The guest requesting entry knocked politely, and only then did Windsor slowly lift his gaze away from the densely written numbers on his desk.
The door opened, and Jacqueline entered the office in outdoor attire.
Windsor stared at her. Unlike her usual self—who would have walked in smiling brightly—she stood hesitantly by the door with her gaze lowered.
A cold, quiet laugh slipped between his teeth.
He watched her, wondering what expression she would show, what words she would offer.
After a brief silence, Jacqueline finally stepped forward. Still avoiding his eyes, she approached the desk.
“….”
She instinctively gripped her dress, as if nervous.
Suddenly, he recalled their last meeting here before she had gone down to Southpillo. Back then, she had not been in her right mind—half-mad after receiving news that her mother was critically ill.
And Windsor had calmly soothed her throughout. His voice had been steady, without fluctuation, but not cold.
That calm tone had reassured her. He had arranged the fastest train, booked a first-class seat, and instructed William to escort her to the station.
Without him, Jacqueline would not have reached Southpillo so quickly.
She tightened her grip on her dress and lifted her head.
“I’m back, Lord Preston.”
I’m back.
Only after saying it did she realize she felt relief.
Relief from what? From her mother? From returning to the Preston estate? Or something else entirely…
When her wavering eyes met Windsor’s, she froze.
His gaze was icy.
“Lord Preston?”
Only after a long pause did he speak.
“How is your mother’s health?”
At that, Jacqueline lowered her eyes again.
She could not meet his gaze.
Windsor had genuinely worried about her mother. And yet her mother had criticized him—pressuring Jacqueline to choose between them.
It was unbearable. Shameful. Miserable.
Her voice came out bitter.
“…Yes. Thanks to your concern.”
And she did not see the faint, cold sarcasm in his blue-gray eyes.
“Good. Nothing unusual happened there, I assume?”
That precise question made her grip her dress tightly again, wrinkling it further.
“….”
There had been many things. So many things she wanted to say.
But she could not say any of them to Windsor. That would mean condemning her own mother.
She could not betray Preston or Benjamin. And yet she also could not abandon her mother.
If even she turned away, her mother might truly collapse this time—perhaps even carry out her threats of suicide.
I’m a coward.
She smiled bitterly at herself.
Then she realized he was still waiting for an answer.
Slowly, she raised her head and met his eyes, forcing a smile.
“Yes. Nothing happened… My mother wasn’t in any serious condition either. Thank you for your concern, Lord Preston.”
At that moment, Windsor’s lips twisted.
He knew it was a lie.
His expression froze coldly.
Only then did he realize—he was disappointed.
Disappointed meant expectation had been broken. And expectation meant he had been hoping for something from Jacqueline.
I expected something from her? What?
Perhaps he had thought she might tell the truth. That she might confide in him about what had happened, even if she had met the royal lawyer unintentionally.
Foolish.
He clicked his tongue at his own naïveté.
His gaze turned cold.
“Miss Somerset.”
“Yes, Lord Preston.”
She nodded as if awaiting instruction, but he said nothing.
He should have dismissed her. He should have removed Jacqueline Somerset from the Preston estate.
He was not the kind of man to tolerate betrayal, nor one reckless enough to keep a ticking time bomb.
And yet—
If she were cast out, where would she go? A penniless noblewoman… who would she turn to?
Evan Knox’s face surfaced in his mind—the man who had confidently claimed he would make her his current fiancée.
It is none of my concern.
But even so, Windsor could not speak.
It felt as if something were choking his throat.
“Lord Preston?”
After a long silence, Jacqueline tilted her head in confusion.
“…”
Damn it.
Windsor clenched his fist, picked up his pen, and lowered his gaze to the desk.
His hoarse voice finally escaped.
“You may go.”
“Yes.”
She bowed politely, still confused, and left.
Once the door closed, Windsor lifted his head again.
His eyes fixed on the shut door, burning with restrained anger.
“…We should endure until we find the fourteenth tutor. Benjamin’s education cannot be delayed further.”
A flimsy excuse slipped from his lips.
Windsor clicked his tongue, loosening his tie as if suffocated.
Even so, he could not remove the source of his frustration.
*****
“Miss Somerset.”
“Ah, Benjamin.”
Jacqueline smiled warmly as she looked down at the boy who gazed up at her with round eyes.
Benjamin cautiously asked, “Are you alright?”
That was not something a child should be worrying about.
She smiled brightly and nodded.
“Of course I am. How were you these past two days?”
They walked side by side into the living room. Their steps matched naturally.
Benjamin, relieved by her expression, spoke quickly.
“Olivia came over again. She just barged in without warning, and William and I were really surprised. This morning, the countess sent an apology card and a set of 52 watercolor paints.”
“She sent paints?”
“Yes. We were supposed to collect cicada shells together, but since you weren’t here, we couldn’t slip past the nanny. So we ended up painting instead.”
“Painting… on your study room wall?”
“No. On canvas.”
Benjamin looked at her as if that were absurd.
Feeling slightly embarrassed, Jacqueline scratched her nose.
“Hmm, I see.”
“Olivia painted a cat. Her cat is named Maggie. It’s a long-haired white cat with a silver bell.”
Benjamin chose not to mention that Olivia had rolled on the floor laughing when she saw Jacqueline’s painting. He knew silence was sometimes better.
He liked Jacqueline. He didn’t want to make her sad—especially not when she already looked so troubled.
So instead, he smiled even brighter.
“Maggie is white, so she didn’t need coloring. While I was coloring, Olivia ate all the cookies by herself.”
“Did she? That must’ve been upsetting. I should see Olivia’s painting sometime.”
“Yes, Miss Somerset. Olivia was very impressed by your uncle’s painting. It seems others also think his art is excellent.”