Chapter 5

"…What?"

He, who regarded his employees as mere cogs in the mansion's machinery, never had the urge to ask anything when looking at a machine's parts.

What could he possibly be curious about? Sally Bristol's background and family? If that were the case, reciting the meticulously fabricated details would have sufficed.

But recalling his actions a moment ago, it might be a very vulgar and private curiosity.

Nausea and curses welled up inside her. Sally tightly shut her mouth.

"Perhaps…."

Winston, who had been staring intently at her eyes for some reason, finally spoke in a gentle tone. His question was neither vulgar nor excessively private, but Sally found herself wishing it had been.

"Have you ever been to Abingdon Beach?"

Abingdon Beach. The moment she heard those words, her heart sank.

'Dirty little pig!'

The mistakes of her inexperienced youth replayed in her mind like a faded film. That single day in summer threatened to steal all her time years later.

'No, if he's asking, it's just a suspicion, not proof.'

Fortunately, he hadn't tried to probe her with subtle questioning.

She had to remain as calm as possible. It was her only way out.

"Excuse me?"

Sally tilted her head as if in disbelief.

"No… My parents were poor, so we couldn't afford to go to such an upscale resort…."

This time, she let her voice trail off pitifully. She weighed down her eyelids and mouth corners, embodying the sorrow of Sally Bristol, a poor girl from a rural family with only a mother suffering from tuberculosis.

"……"

Winston fell silent again. He stared at her eyes as intently as before, as if he had just thrown a bomb in the form of a question. Was he looking for evidence of lies in her eyes, which held the turquoise sea of Abingdon Beach, or was he looking for evidence of the truth?

She wanted to close her eyes. But it wouldn't make any difference now.

Only when Sally's maid's blouse began to stick to her skin with sweat did Winston avert his gaze.

"Well, of course."

He seemed to believe he had made an unreasonable assumption and chuckled sarcastically before returning to the car.

The iron gate soon opened, and with a fierce engine roar, Winston passed by Sally. She watched the car grow smaller and muttered quietly.

'Damn my eyes.'

***

The wheels rolling on the neatly paved brick driveway gradually slowed to a stop. The iron gate at the end of the road was firmly closed.

Despite informing the butler of his arrival time in advance.

The driver glanced at Leon's expression in the rearview mirror and immediately honked loudly. Only after honking twice did a middle-aged man rush out from behind the bars to open the gate.

The car started moving again, and as it passed, the gatekeeper gave an unexpected salute, which Leon acknowledged with a smile, turning his gaze forward.

It was nothing new. The subtle neglect from the Aldridge Dukedom was nothing new.

'It's understandable.'

In the engagement deal, the immediate and clear benefit went to the Winston family. The Dukedom was merely investing in the future. So, it was only natural for the scales to tip in one direction.

To Leon, the neglect was merely amusing. It would have to be more than just a transaction, or at least a glimmer of interest, to hurt his pride.

'Ah, Mother would be furious.'

His slightly upturned lips soon drooped again.

The seemingly endless driveway finally came to an end. The magnificent mansion standing at the end was just one of the Dukedom's many villas.

Even the villa was designed to overwhelm those who entered, befitting the Dukedom's prestige. But it only worked on those who had something to gain or owed something to the Dukedom. To Leon, it was merely a nuisance.

As the car stopped in front of the mansion, the villa's butler slowly approached. While Leon's personal bodyguard, who was in the passenger seat, quickly opened the rear door, the butler smoothed his pomaded hair.

"Captain Winston, shall I show you to the parlor?"

The butler's condescending greeting was as slow as his pace.

Leon closed the file on his lap and opened the black briefcase on the seat next to him. When his bodyguard, Pierce, offered to help, he waved him off.

He put the file and fountain pen he had been reading on the way back in their place and picked up the black cap. He neatly placed the cap on his neatly combed hair and adjusted it.

"Captain, if you could hurry a bit…."

Only after the haughty butler bowed did Leon get out of the car and follow him into the villa. He dismissed Pierce, who offered to follow. After all, he would only be bringing a woman out.

"His Grace is waiting for you."

But the news that the Duke of Aldridge was at Camden's villa was unexpected. As he entered the parlor, the Duke, dressed casually, rose from his slanted position on the sofa, where he had been reading a newspaper.

"Oh, Captain Winston."

It was a formal title to address someone who would soon be family.

"Your Grace, it's been a while."

"Yes, are you here to pick up Rosalind?"

"Yes."

"Hmm…."

The Duke stroked his long, drooping mustache, his gaze openly scanning Leon's neck and below.

"I like your serious attitude, approaching a date as if it were a battle."

To the naive, the Duke's words might sound like praise. But Leon was far from naive.

He couldn't miss the Duke's disdain for his choice of a military uniform over formal attire for a date arranged by adults.

"I was delayed due to work."

He flashed a brief, embarrassed smile, but the Duke knew Leon had no interest in this date, or this deal.

"Yes, you seem very busy."

Actually, it was because he had to dig his eyes out twice for that annoying maid that he was late.

"Considering how punctual you usually are, it's surprising to see you late today."

It was an unexpected comment. The Duke knew the time of his appointment with the Duchess.

'Did he really wait? For what?'

He had a strong feeling it would be a troublesome conversation.

"Would you like a drink?"

There was no need to answer. It wasn't a question or an offer.

The Duke walked to the bar in the corner of the parlor and picked up a crystal glass. As the amber liquid poured into the glass, someone knocked on the parlor door.

"Your Grace, Miss Rosalind has arrived."

"Ah, come in."

The door opened, and Leon's fiancée, dressed and ready to go, walked in.

"Captain Winston."

"Her Highness, the Duchess of Aldridge."

Both addressed each other with formal titles, despite being engaged.

As they exchanged greetings, Leon couldn't help but notice the Duchess's attire. Her long dress, which barely showed her ankles, seemed outdated compared to the current trend of shorter skirts. It looked more stifling than elegant.

Rosalind Aldridge, who boasted immense wealth, wore only expensive items, but they made her appear dull and boring.

Boring or not, a mission was a mission. Even if it was a task thrown at him by the elders of his family to satisfy their own desires.

Leon approached the Duchess and extended his arm with grace. Her hand, resting on the inside of his arm, was so light he barely felt it. Her aversion to physical contact suggested she wasn't particularly enthusiastic about the date either.

"Your Grace, I'll have to take the drink another time. The cruise ship's departure time is approaching."

"Yes, have a meaningful time."

The only one who found this deal meaningful was the elders of their families.

In the car driving through the city to the river, no conversation passed between the two sitting side by side.

Unable to bear the awkward silence, Pierce chattered on. He lightly recommended the menu of the cruise ship's high-end restaurant and bar, adding that he hoped they would have a good time.

"I don't like alcohol."

The Duchess spoke first. This unexpected comment was likely due to her father offering Leon a drink at the villa or Pierce mentioning the bar's cocktail menu.

The Duke was known as a drinker. It was common for a daughter of a drinker to dislike alcohol.

"I don't particularly enjoy it either."

"Alcohol clouds one's judgment. While it's said to help forget life's pains, it only creates bigger problems. Especially in social settings, it's easy to lose self-control and become incapacitated."

Was she under the delusion that he was trying to get her drunk to do something? Leon grew increasingly annoyed as the Duchess, who usually spoke little, delivered an unsolicited speech.

He didn't want to waste time on a date any more than she did. But since he was in an inferior position in this deal, she seemed to think she could force him into a pregnancy to prevent the deal from being canceled.

'What a ridiculous notion.'

If he truly wanted to finalize the deal, it would have happened long ago. Even without resorting to something as disgusting as pregnancy, he had more than enough cards to play, regardless of the potential for being called despicable.

He had little interest in women's bodies, finding them unappealing. In the company of officers, it was quite common for high-class prostitutes with strong perfume to join drinking sessions, but he had never been physically attracted to any of them.

So why did he feel aroused by the scent of blood from that maid?

Staring at the Duchess's face, which smelled of powder, Leon repeated the same name in his tightly clenched mouth.

'Sally Bristol. Sally, what are you?'