Chapter 7
Rowena slowly opened her eyes.
The moment she noticed that the air brushing past her head felt unfamiliar, her gaze fell on the ceiling, intricately decorated with ivory-colored moldings. She immediately sat up and looked around. Everything in the room was unfamiliar.
It was more luxurious than either Ravenhill or even the Bernier estate. The finely carved wooden furniture looked expensive at a glance, and the crystal chandelier hanging in the center scattered countless shards of light across the floor as it caught the morning sun.
‘Morning…?’
Startled, Rowena opened her eyes wide. Through the towering windows that nearly touched the ceiling, the sky was clear. The sunlight shone even more brightly.
A strange sensation brushed across her skin. She looked down and noticed that the gray-brown dress she had worn to mimic a maid’s attire was gone, replaced by luxurious silk pajamas with a subtle sheen. Her eyes trembled faintly as they followed the neatly buttoned closure.
At that moment, a gentle voice came from a corner of the room.
“Madam, are you awake?”
Turning her head, Rowena saw a woman with neatly tied-up brown hair. Freckles dotted her nose, and her long, delicate eyes gave her an appealing look. She appeared to be around Rowena’s age, and wearing a white apron over a gray skirt, she seemed to be a maid of the estate.
“My name is Haley. I have served the House of Duke Ainsworth for many years. From now on, I have been instructed to care for you directly. It is an honor to serve you.”
“House of Duke Ainsworth…” The words triggered a faint memory. She had indeed boarded the carriage with Arthur Ainsworth’s help. Then, while riding in the jolting carriage, she had felt dizzy… and apparently lost consciousness entirely.
“If you would wait here for a moment, I will bring the Duke.”
Still dazed and blinking as her mind slowly caught up, Rowena watched Haley bow lightly before leaving.
Not long after, a clear, light knock came from beyond the wooden door.
Knock, knock.
It was a sound lighter and more cheerful than she had expected.
“This is Arthur Ainsworth. I beg your pardon for entering.”
Rowena hastily pulled the blanket over herself. The pajamas she wore were modest, with no exposure whatsoever. The fabric was thick and smooth, concealing the curves of her body.
Even so, being seen by a man—who was not her husband—in such attire…
Before she could dwell on that thought, Arthur entered the room, and their eyes met. His golden hair, neatly arranged, framed eyes that at first seemed sharp but now softened gently.
“You’re awake. I’m glad to see your complexion has improved.”
“Th-this place is…?”
Rowena hesitated mid-sentence; her voice was surprisingly hoarse.
“This is my estate. You lost consciousness shortly after boarding the carriage, so we brought you here immediately. Do you remember?”
“No… I don’t remember anything after I got on the carriage.”
“I thought as much. You had a high fever throughout the night. It has now dropped to a mild one, but the doctor said you’ll need a few more days to recover, so it’s best not to overexert yourself.”
He approached leisurely and perched on a chair beside the bed. Rowena bowed her head slightly in his direction.
“I am deeply grateful for your kindness, Duke Ainsworth.”
“You need not be so formal. I simply did what was necessary.”
Arthur responded with a gentle smile. He was kind, and Rowena felt almost guilty for having no way to repay his favor.
“No, it was not something that should be taken for granted. And I am by no means someone of such significance to merit your formal attention. Please, speak freely.”
“…If that is what you wish, Madam.”
Arthur added with a small, knowing smile, “Then I shall gladly do so.”
A curious sense of strangeness stirred within her. Rowena blinked quietly, unable to pinpoint why she felt that way, and dismissed it as just a fleeting feeling.
“Duke Ainsworth, I must ask one more favor, if you would forgive my impudence.”
Arthur Ainsworth already seemed to have an inkling of her circumstances. He had mentioned he would not inform Ravenhill, and he had yet to call her husband even though she had collapsed—both signs that he understood the situation clearly.
“I wish to leave for Whistler while avoiding the attention of others… Could you perhaps help me depart quietly?”
“Unfortunately, that would be difficult.”
Rowena lowered her eyes silently. She wasn’t disappointed—she knew it was an unreasonable request.
Yet his next words caught her off guard.
“Don’t misunderstand. I’m not saying I won’t help you. I’m merely saying that Whistler is no longer a safe choice.”
“What do you mean…?”
“There are already people loyal to Killian Vale stationed there.”
Her green eyes widened with a flicker of realization.
“Not just Whistler, but Heriford, Plymouth, Dover… and even the major stations in the capital. If the stationmaster you visited yesterday at Branley was involved, you can imagine the situation.”
Rowena was ignorant, but not foolish. His words meant there was no longer any escape from Killian.
‘Why?’
Why would he go to such lengths to trap me in that prison-like mansion? He already has everything he wanted. There’s nothing left for him to take from me. What more could he possibly desire…?
Her fingers trembled, turning pale as she gripped the blanket. Arthur watched her quietly.
Resting an elbow on the armrest and leaning his chin upon it, he spoke softly:
“That said, Miss Bernier…”
Rowena flinched at the title. It had been a long time since she had been called that; ever since her marriage, it had always been ‘Mrs. Vale’.
“Instead of fleeing elsewhere, how about staying in this estate for a while, keeping yourself hidden?”
Suddenly, she understood the source of the strange sense she had been feeling. Arthur Ainsworth had never once called her ‘Mrs. Vale’.
“The arrangement would last… until the day you finalize your divorce proceedings.”
Rowena held her breath for a moment and looked into Arthur’s eyes. His gaze, as blue and clear as a cloudless sky, radiated warmth and kindness—so unlike Killian’s.
“…Why are you showing me such kindness?”
Yet even Killian once had eyes like that.
The man who had ruined her family, driven her father to death, and had an affair with her sister—he too had once smiled at her with warmth and tenderness.
“Does helping someone in need require a reason?”
Before his leisurely smile, Rowena pressed her lips tightly together.
She was certainly ignorant, but not foolish. Being rescued from danger and being allowed to stay in a part of the estate until her divorce was finalized were two entirely different matters. The former could be seen as a casual act of goodwill; the latter was not.
If anyone discovered that he was hiding her, Arthur Ainsworth would come into direct conflict with Killian Vale. That was not a risk to take lightly or without purpose.
“Is that really all there is to it?”
She asked quietly. Arthur slowly raised one eyebrow.
“Perhaps it’s better for you to accept it without questioning too much. Don’t you think so, Miss Bernier?”
The simple narrowing of his eyes instantly sent a chill through the room. The tension wrapped around the luxurious space like a tangible force.
But Rowena did not flinch. She met his gaze squarely.
“…That might indeed be wiser. I’m in desperate need of help right now.”
“……”
“But I no longer wish to be swayed by someone else’s desires while knowing nothing.”
A brief silence followed. His green eyes remained unwavering and steady even in the quiet.
Suddenly, Arthur laughed. The oppressive tension that had weighed over the room dissipated as if it had never been.
“That’s impressive.”
He laughed freely, clapping his hands lightly—pure laughter, devoid of mockery or sarcasm.
“If Miss Bernier is that honest, then I have no choice but to be equally so. You’re wondering why I am showing you such kindness, aren’t you?”
“……”
“Because you are Rowena Bernier.”
Rowena stared at him, not immediately understanding. He arched his eyes into a crescent shape and continued:
“I’ve thought it for some time. You are far too remarkable a woman to be married to Killian Vale.”
