Chapter 21
Rickman had forbidden Agnès from bringing any maids from the Everchen estate when she married him.
So, she had no one she could confide in — no maid she could even talk to about such things.
Apparently, it hadn’t been because Everchen’s maids were “unfit” for a count’s household.
Agnès bit back a bitter smile and answered obediently.
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good. Very good.”
Most women would have been disappointed, angry, or even burst into tears at a moment like this,
but Agnès showed none of those emotions.
Rickman seemed pleased by that. He patted her shoulder gently.
“I knew I chose well. If you raise our son properly, you’ll live your whole life as Countess Overhan — comfortably and peacefully.”
And just like that, ten months later, Agnès became Noah’s mother.
Rickman had planned everything with his usual meticulous care, so only a few people knew that Noah wasn’t truly Agnès’s child — only Rickman himself, Agnès, his secretary, the butler, a trusted nursemaid, and lastly, Noah’s real mother, Penny.
Whether Penny had told anyone else, Agnès didn’t know. She’d never met the woman — and had never wanted to.
Still, she often wondered.
Would a man as obsessive as Rickman really have allowed the mother of his illegitimate son to live freely somewhere?
The strange sense of unease she had sometimes felt near his study… could it be because of that?
Back then, Agnès hadn’t tried to investigate further.
After all, living as Rickman’s puppet meant her thoughts didn’t matter.
Besides, Noah was growing up so quickly — and she loved him so much that everything else faded away.
All she wanted was for him to be safe, to smile, to grow up healthy and happy.
But in the end, that blind affection hadn’t helped him at all.
This time, I have to do something, she thought. Even if it’s just something small.
Rickman had hidden the truth — that Noah was born from a commoner woman — with extreme care.
To him, that kind of thing was shameful, unworthy of his noble name.
And if there really was a secret basement connected to his office — if Penny was trapped down there —
then that, too, would be a stain on his “perfect gentleman” reputation.
Agnès planned to use that fact as a weapon.
She would negotiate with Rickman — demand to raise Noah herself until he reached adulthood.
Of course, if Dylan could find a safer, less dangerous way to bring Noah back, that would be ideal.
But this method… could make Noah discover the truth about his birth.
She didn’t intend to take the matter to court, but one could never be sure.
Noah believes I’m his real mother. If he suddenly learns otherwise, it will crush him.
So, her plan was simple:
- With Dylan’s power and connections, bring Noah back safely and quietly.
- If that fails, find Penny and use her to negotiate with Rickman — but keep the entire process secret from Noah.
In short, visiting this detective agency was just a kind of insurance.
After signing the contract Rebecca had handed her, Agnès stood up.
Fortunately, the investigation fee was within what she had secretly saved — money she’d been keeping for a future life with Noah.
Rebecca smirked and shrugged.
“Well, it won’t be easy, but I’ll do my best. This is what I do, after all. I’m pretty good at it. Take care, milady.”
With a cheeky grin, Rebecca opened the door for her.
Waiting outside were Lizzie and Pavel, who immediately hurried toward Agnès.
“My lady, are you all right?”
“Are you hurt?”
“Oh, please,” Rebecca scoffed. “You think I’d eat her or something? We just had a nice, civilized chat.”
She then turned to Agnès, grinning and rubbing her hands together like a fly.
“Give me a little time, and I’ll bring you some good news, all right?”
“I’ll be counting on you,” Agnès said with a polite nod and stepped outside.
“My lady, are you really all right?” Lizzie asked again, worried.
“I’m a little tired, but truly, I’m fine,” Agnès reassured her with a gentle smile.
She really was fine — the experience had been strange, even thrilling in its own way.
But before she could even enjoy the fresh air after leaving the dark, narrow alley, her good mood shattered completely.
“…Agnès?”
The voice came from a man she never wanted to see again.
Rickman.
As always, he was dressed in an expensive suit. His golden hair was neatly combed back, and his sharp brow arched slightly — the same as always.
Agnès hated that face.
That twisted arrogance, that cold, superior gaze that treated anyone weaker than him as something to crush underfoot.
Instinctively, she took a small step back — then straightened, forcing herself to stand tall and look him in the eye.
“…Rickman.”
“It’s been a while, Agnès.”
Unlike Agnès, who struggled to hide her discomfort, Rickman looked genuinely pleased to see her.
As his eyes slowly traveled over her, Pavel immediately stepped forward, hand on his sword.
“How dare you look at the lady with such disrespect. Avert your eyes immediately.”
Rickman barely glanced at him before turning back to Agnès, as if Pavel were an insect.
“Who is this?” he asked, his tone implying Pavel wasn’t worth an answer.
Agnès sighed quietly.
“This is Sir Pavel, a knight of House Basteron. Please show some respect.
Sir Pavel, this is… Count Overhan.”
At that, Pavel released his sword and gave a brief, polite bow — though his hand stayed close to the hilt, ready to defend her.
Rickman smirked at the show of caution, clearly amused.
“What business does a woman like you have in a filthy place like this?”
“A filthy place? I didn’t think it was—”
He cut her off with a wave of his hand.
“Enough. That habit of yours — saying things too honestly — I see you still have it. Not bad, though.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re fit to raise a child.”
Lizzie gasped in outrage, and Pavel’s expression twisted with disgust.
Agnès, however, grew calm. Her face turned pale, but not in fear.
She didn’t flinch or cry — she simply stood there, composed.
Rickman actually admired that about her.
He liked that she never raised her voice or acted like a commoner — always calm, always proper.
He smiled smugly, looking past her down the street she’d just come from.
“You wouldn’t be wandering around this alley for no reason. You came to a detective agency, didn’t you? Trying to dig up some dirt on me?”
“This has nothing to do with you.”
“Oh, please. I’ve heard everything — how you’ve been running around saying you’ll get Noah back. You even went to Countess Paula with some ridiculous proposal. So if you’re here, in a place like this, I can guess why.”
Rickman spoke as if he knew everything about her — and humiliatingly, he wasn’t entirely wrong.
He had always kept tabs on her, not out of affection, but because he saw her as one of his possessions — an important one.
Now that he’d figured out why she was here, Rickman’s lips curved into a crooked smile.
“Naive Agnès. Did you really think a cheap backstreet agency could get you the kind of information you’re after? That’s exactly why I told you to ask me first before doing anything foolish.”
“Whatever foolish things I do, it’s none of your concern anymore. I’m no longer Countess Overhan — and certainly not your wife.”
“Agnès.”
He gave a soft, mocking laugh and reached for her wrist — the same controlling gesture he had used countless times during their marriage.
His grip used to leave bruises; without thinking, Agnès flinched away.
“I won’t tolerate any more disrespect,” Pavel warned sharply.
For once, Agnès was deeply grateful that Pavel had insisted on accompanying her.
The bodyguard she hadn’t needed at the agency was absolutely necessary now.
When Pavel drew his sword, Rickman raised both hands and stepped back, pretending to surrender — though his smirk never left his face.
“Agnès, I told you before. Noah’s mother is Countess Overhan. Without me, you can’t be that.”
“…I am his mother,” she said firmly.
“You can’t just say that and make it true. You’re not that stupid.”
