Chapter 103 …
“Your Grace?”
With a loud bang, the office door was flung open roughly. The door had slammed into the wall so hard that the spot where the handle struck was slightly dented.
“Your Grace!”
But he seemed too urgent to notice even that. Logan rushed out without hearing Jeffrey calling after him.
“Mr. Manderton!”
Logan hurried to the garage, looking for the driver. Mr. Manderton, who had been carefully polishing the car’s exterior, ran over with a startled expression.
“You called for me, Your Grace?”
“Right now, the car—”
“Do you have somewhere to go? If you tell me—”
The driver approached the driver’s seat as he asked.
“No, I’ll go alone. Just give me the keys.”
Logan looked as though he didn’t have the patience to wait even that brief moment. Startled by the man’s strained, almost strangled expression, Mr. Manderton fumbled in his pocket and handed over the car key.
“Thank you.”
Logan immediately climbed into the driver’s seat and drove off. Mr. Manderton’s dazed face quickly receded through the rear window. But Logan had no room to dwell on it.
“….”
Through the open window, Logan rested his arm against his chin, his eyes trembling with deep confusion, desperation—and love.
<To His Grace, the Duke of Clavern,
No. You may find it rude, but today I want to call you Logan. Logan, the reason I am writing this letter to you today is…>
At that point, Eleanor’s neat handwriting wavered slightly. Her thoughts must have been in turmoil. Or perhaps it was her final hesitation—whether she truly ought to write such a letter.
<It is because I wish to confess my feelings.>
Yet despite all that hesitation, once she wrote that she had picked up the pen to confess, her handwriting flowed without pause.
<You must be wondering what on earth I’m trying to say when I’ve already left with my fiancé. You must be bewildered. I know. I find myself strange and ridiculous too. But I am certain this feeling is neither false nor mere lingering attachment. So before I leave, I wanted to tell you at least once.
Everything I said about never liking you was a lie, Logan. For the long three years, I was greatly shaken by you.
But while there was only one reason to give you my heart—love—there were far too many reasons not to. My memories and promises with Usher, and the vast gap between you and me. So I deliberately locked the door to my heart and tried not to look back at you.
And as I grew used to doing that, I came to believe that the fluttering and pounding I sometimes felt was not love. Whenever my heart raced because of you, I deceived myself into thinking it was merely a natural reaction to contact with the opposite sex.
Moreover, my ignorance about love helped reinforce that self-deception. When I thought about my first meeting with Usher and the moment I fell in love, I believed love was only something that completely overwhelmed and conquered me. It was easy to close my eyes.
But looking back, everything was obvious. I never felt such emotions toward Mr. Manderton, George, or any of the male servants in the estate. Though on the surface my feelings toward you might have seemed no different from what I felt toward them, they were entirely different.
I was always honest in front of you and never kept any secrets. Because I knew that no matter what I confessed, you would pity me and gently comfort me.
At a glance it may have looked like trust, but in truth it was something disguised as trust. It was me baring myself again and again to the very bottom and asking if you could still love me. And you said—without a single lie—that you would.
How could I possibly not fall for you?>
Logan practically leapt out of the car. Slamming the door shut, he strode into the hotel.
“I’m looking for someone. A woman named Eleanor Hudson.”
“I’m afraid we cannot disclose guests’ personal—”
The front desk clerk spoke with a polite smile, then widened his eyes as if recognizing Logan. How many men resembling the Duke of Clavern would be looking for the famously talkative Eleanor Hudson?
“Are you His Grace, the Duke of Clavern?”
“Eleanor Hudson. Is she staying at this hotel?”
Though the clerk had asked a question, Logan only repeated his own. The clerk hesitated—should he answer?—but if pressed by such authority, he would have no choice.
“Could you wait just a moment?”
The clerk flipped through the guest registry on the desk. Logan anxiously bit down on his lower lip. He didn’t even seem to notice that his usually immaculate appearance was in complete disarray, nor that he was soaked by the rain.
“Ah, she already checked out this morning—”
“Thank you.”
The clerk hadn’t even finished speaking before Logan turned and rushed out of the hotel.
Drip, drip. Raindrops soaked his hair and the shoulders of his shirt without mercy. Logan roughly wiped the moisture away and jumped back into the car, starting the engine.
If she had checked out, it meant she truly intended to leave—just as she had written in the letter.
Then she would be near Southern Station by now. She hadn’t left yet… right? Yes—she couldn’t have left yet.
Even as he thought that, his chest trembled with anxiety. Logan gnawed on his lower lip, unable to hide his agitation.
“….”
He had let Eleanor go because she said she felt nothing for him. Even if he forced her to stay, he would never gain her heart. He would only watch her cry.
He hadn’t wanted that. That wasn’t love.
He didn’t want the woman he loved to suffer in tears every day. So he let her go as she wished—so she could go to the person she wanted and live happily.
“Damn it.”
Logan muttered a curse, tapping the steering wheel restlessly. At the end of the alley, a carriage had stopped to pick up passengers, blocking the road. His chest burned at the thought of wasting time like this.
In the end, instead of waiting for the carriage to move, Logan reversed and cut into another alley. The hotel wasn’t far from Southern Station—if he could just get there, he felt he could somehow meet Eleanor.
<I liked you. No—I loved you. I still love you. So I hope you won’t look back on this as an unrequited love that was never returned.>
He felt as though he might see again the woman who loved him.
And if he did, he never wanted to let her go.
The reason he could send Eleanor away was love—and the reason he could not let her go was also love.
“Ah…”
Logan let out a small groan. As he passed over the rattling road, Southern Station finally came into view.
Soon. Very soon.
Thinking that, Logan drove straight ahead from the end of the alley.
<Please forgive me for sending this letter when everything has already been settled. I have no intention of shaking you or begging you to take me with you. After all, you must have already put your feelings for me in order.
I only wanted to tell you that your love was not lonely. You are someone worthy of being loved—and so I, too, held you in my heart. I wanted to say it at least once.>
At that moment—
“…!”
A boy suddenly darted out from the blind corner. Logan quickly jerked the wheel. With a harsh crunch, the car body crumpled as the wall of the building at the end of the alley rushed up before him.
<Thank you, and I’m sorry. And more than those feelings, I loved you. I love you even more now than when I did not yet understand my own heart.
From now on, with this earnest heart, I will pray for your happiness. Please always stay healthy and happy.>
“Eek!”
A woman passing on the street screamed in shock.
Under the crushing weight pressing down on him, Logan let out a faint groan. At the same time, with a loud bang, a carriage that had lost control slammed into the driver’s seat.
Logan felt sharp bursts of pain strike his head and arm as his vision blurred red.
<From Eleanor Hudson, who loves you>
He saw a beautiful woman.
With her cheeks softly flushed, carefully confessing her love.
He had to go—if he didn’t want to lose her.
He couldn’t let her go like this.
But there was a physical limit even his will could not overcome. Logan tried to move the fingers that barely responded, but all he felt was the strength draining from his body.
“Eleanor…”
His lips moved on their own. Even at the final moment, Logan softly called the name of the woman he longed for.
Even though he knew the woman who wasn’t here could not possibly hear him.
Like a madman.
As if answering his call, the Eleanor in his vision met his gaze and smiled.
Logan smiled back at her.
His eyes closed.
