Chesterfield Mansion: The House of the Man Who Hates Me - Chapter 31

Meanwhile, Celian bowed her waist.

“I apologize for the intrusion. Please continue your conversation comfortably.”

That was all. Celian disappeared as quietly as she had appeared.

After she had completely vanished behind the corner, Izer turned back to Ophelia.

“What an unpleasant reunion. I thought you two were friends.”

“With ‘that’?”

Her voice was full of contempt.

“If you call a lady of similar age with whom you’ve exchanged a few words a friend, then maybe we were friends. It might have been like that in the past, but now we’re not on the same level, are we?”

“……”

“I’m disappointed, Izer. To think you’d associate with something so beneath you. I’ll overlook it, thinking it’s just a moment of entertainment.”

It was absurd. A mere Montes daring to insult a Berienne. Izer chuckled and spoke.

“Ophelia, Celian’s status is far higher than yours. At least that woman……”

That woman is… what? His words got stuck. What was better about Celian Berienne compared to Ophelia Montes? Of course, Celian was superior to Ophelia in terms of appearance, personality, and normal thinking patterns.

But what Izer was about to say wasn’t just about such trivial things. What impression did he actually have of Celian?

Ophelia, who had been staring at him, smirked and raised her heels. Seeing Izer’s face change to a disgusted expression as soon as her lips touched his cheek, she smiled seductively.

“Right, things like status don’t matter. What’s important is that a Montes suits a Chesterfield.”

Izer glared at her but couldn’t deny it. A Montes did suit a Chesterfield.

They were so alike. In their superficial appearances, their vulgarity, their foolishness.

* * *

Celian Berienne had stayed out overnight.

After staring at the main gate all night with sleepless eyes, Izer accepted the fact as dawn broke.

Celian, who had gone out, hadn’t returned home. This meant she had spent the night outside. Since she wouldn’t be bold enough to sleep on the street even in summer, it meant she had stayed at an inn or someone’s house.

‘An inn?’

Celian didn’t spend money unless absolutely necessary. Every time she walked around in that dress that had gone out of fashion twenty years ago, he was overcome with the urge to tear it apart and dress her in new clothes, but he stopped, thinking it wasn’t his concern.

Sometimes he deliberately stuffed bills into her clothes when she took them off. It was an insult to her and meant to remind her of her position. But that money just went into her money box, and there was no change in Celian’s clothing.

It was hard to imagine that such a woman would spend money to sleep at an inn. How long had it been since she had obediently returned home saying she had nowhere to go, and now she was impulsively staying out overnight?

Then was it that man’s house after all?

‘Is Beth still at Doctor Owen’s house?’

A young woman who came to ask for just one night’s stay at a house where a man lived alone. It wasn’t hard to imagine what might have happened between them.

The result was predictable. But it was tricky to jump to conclusions about the process. Would Celian have undressed first, or would Doctor Owen have undressed her? Seeing the bruises all over her body, would the brown-haired young man have been angry, aroused, or pitied her?

Would that kind doctor have behaved like a gentleman in bed, or would he have become a bastard like Izer himself, who was only outwardly a gentleman, and crushed her?

Many questions followed. How would Celian explain her situation of coming out recklessly when she had nowhere to go?

Above all, what was the reason for that woman’s sudden decision to stay out overnight?

‘Is her pride still alive?’

Meeting Ophelia must have been a big shock to her. More precisely, the fact that Izer had a fiancée. Of course, she neither knew nor needed to know how carelessly their engagement had been made, how it was just for show, and how it was destined to break.

‘I was going to tell her in detail how f*cked up this engagement is.’

Izer’s misfortune was the shackle binding Celian. That woman, though foolish, was kind. She accepted her responsibility for his misfortune, and the result manifested as violent s*x.

If he were to specifically mention the circumstances of this engagement, tears would flow down her face, which already showed clear signs of exhaustion. The man thought, sitting at his desk and picking up a pen, that she might even willingly offer herself if he made her bend over the desk, without a word of protest.

But that woman had escaped from his misfortune through the cute act of staying out overnight. As if she had no intention of exchanging words with him. It was like punishing an unfaithful lover.

To exaggerate a bit more…… it was just like she had run away to have a retaliatory affair. The man who had been moving his pen meaninglessly raised his cold eyes from the desk.

“Did you enjoy your night out?”

Celian stood with her head bowed. This woman moved so silently. If it weren’t for the knock, he would have been startled by her ghost-like appearance.

“I’m sorry for leaving without informing you. The madam gave me permission……”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“……I had a good time.”

There was no strength in her voice as she answered. Izer put down his pen and stood up. Standing behind the woman who couldn’t move until he gave permission, he lowered his head and buried his nose in her nape.

She smelled of cheap inn soap. It was a scent he had never smelled on Doctor Owen or Dr. Caleb. There were only the marks he had left the night before yesterday where he parted her hair, no traces of anyone else’s lips.

His erect c**k was wedged between her split buttocks. With underwear, cotton pants, skirt, and more underwear between them, the thick shaft slowly rubbed between her buttocks.

Izer pondered as he kneaded the woman’s br*easts with his idle hands. Should he remove the few pieces of cloth separating them and claim what was his? But it was morning now, and he still hadn’t heard the reason why she had left the house.

While he was contemplating and moving his genitals back and forth, the woman’s body lost its strength. She went limp in resignation, breathing heavily, looking like the Celian Berienne he knew. After twelve hours of acting like a sulking lover, her return to her proper place and submissive attitude softened his heart.

Instead of removing the four layers of cloth, Izer took a gentler action more suitable for the bright morning.

The buttons that tightly constricted her neck were undone. The dress that fell down got caught at her hips. After the corset that had been squeezing her chest fell to the floor, what remained before him was a half-naked woman.

The bright early summer sunlight thoroughly illuminated her exposed upper body. The protruding neck bone and the spine where each segment seemed countable, the ar*olas located in the center of her br*east mounds that were admirable every time he saw them, the n*pples that were swelling in real-time under his gaze. The man who had been appreciating all of this brought his lips to her back. Even on the hard bones, only his traces were abundant.

The man who had been rubbing his lips on her neck that smelled of cheap fragrance asked,

“Have you eaten?”

“……”

Instead of an answer, her stomach growled. Izer sighed and stepped back. The fact that she had stayed at an inn meant that this woman had made up her mind to spend money. She probably couldn’t afford to eat as well.

The bell rang. The head butler wasn’t surprised to see Celian in his bed first thing in the morning. Izer ordered, confirming that Celian had covered herself up to her neck with the blanket.

“Bring breakfast to the room.”

* * *

A strange event was occurring in the room of a young man who considered himself peculiar. A white bread was placed on the empty plate in front of Celian, who was sitting silently.

The man who had personally placed the bread on her plate nodded.

“Eat.”

“……”

“It’s not tasty eating alone. Eat.”

The white bread was soft. Milk and coffee, suitable for breakfast, were each in cups waiting for her choice.

It wasn’t unusual for Izer to eat in the bedroom, as nobles often do. It was just that using the furniture for its original purpose, which had been used for lying down, sitting up, or leaning on, was a first, and the unfamiliarity was disconcerting.

Of course, this furniture would only be used for its intended purpose until the meal was over. He had given her bread, but he hadn’t given her permission to dress properly. Therefore, while chewing bread with her chest exposed from early morning in front of the tea table, Celian tried to avoid the persistent gaze following her naked body.