Chapter 49

Even then, Carlisle did not stop moving his waist, kneading the br*asts swaying in the air as if wringing them out. Yvonne was utterly helpless before the pleasure flooding over her so strongly it made her head spin.

“Haaah…. Mmngh-!”

As his s*x repeatedly rubbed against her tightly packed interior, her vision swam. Her body, struck by cl*max once again, trembled violently. She tried somehow to hold on to her senses, but Carlisle did not miss the opening and drove into her again.

Lewd sounds burst from the friction of their bodies. Her white thighs, spread wide from the excessive pleasure, shook uncontrollably.

“Hng… s-stop, please…!”

Carlisle’s firm hips, devouring Yvonne’s body as if driving her onward, moved tirelessly as though they knew no hesitation. Veins stood out on the thick arms wrapped around her slender waist.

Carlisle’s gaze grew fiercer as he neared the end. As cl*max surged violently within her, the strength drained from Yvonne’s body. Almost at the same moment, a low, boiling groan burst from Carlisle’s mouth as he released with relief.

“Haa. Haa.”

Yvonne’s body trembled at the burning sensation. It felt as though she were realizing all over again what this deal meant, that this man truly wanted an heir.

When Yvonne, lacking even the strength to move a finger, tried to turn over, her shoulder was caught and she was laid flat on her back. Her breath, still not settled, came out in ragged gasps.

“Hng… if you’re done, move away.”

“That would be difficult for now. I hear you shouldn’t move until it settles into place.”

As if leisurely enjoying the aftermath, Carlisle held her heated body close and did not let go, as though afraid it might cool too quickly.

Her lips parted at the strange warmth she felt deep inside, but then a voice cold enough to chill away that lingering heat rang out.

“Endure it even if you hate it terribly. It’s not as if I’m doing this because I enjoy it either.”

Absurdly enough, at that single remark, the warmth of his body that had felt so hot only moments ago now seemed cold.

* * *

The servants of the ducal residence were in confusion at the fact that the Duke and Duchess had been sharing one bedroom for several days now.

On one hand, they were flustered because they did not know how to react to the reconciliation between the two. On the other, they were worried that the Duchess might remain at Glade Hills forever like this.

Among them all, Harold, who carried himself proudly with the confidence of having watched over this place for more than thirty years, could not make sense at all of his master’s change of heart. Having recently gone through several subtle clashes of will with the Duchess, he was beginning to resent his master’s continued silence.

‘How long must I keep watching that young girl run wild like this.’

A kind of anxiety he had never once felt even in the past, when he had not known what sort of mistress he would be made to serve, weighed heavily on his shoulders. Having secured all the powers of the lady of the house, she was taking back one by one the duties Harold had long handled himself. It was clear that she intended to take the entire running of the mansion into her hands.

What in the world had she returned thinking.

For several days now he had been quietly trying to determine what scheme the Duchess must be harboring, but he had yet to find anything particularly suspicious, and that only made him more frustrated.

After instructing that the garden fountain be cleaned, he stepped inside through the entrance, and the passing maids bowed their heads to him.

He gave a dignified nod and, standing beside the broad drawing room, straightened his attire. While checking his neat reflection in the mirror, his gaze was suddenly drawn to the central staircase.

The long staircase leading in from the entrance split into two on either side and rose to the second floor, centered around the giant portrait of the Duke and Duchess hanging on the wall straight ahead.

And it was on the middle landing, right where that portrait hung, that the incident that day had taken place.

He remembered clearly the day before the Duchess had left the mansion.

Aah!

At the time when everyone had been bustling about preparing dinner, he ran at the sound of a woman’s scream and found two women collapsed on the marble floor of the first floor.

The Duchess and Vivian Alois.

It had not been difficult to understand what had happened. The argument born from the Duchess’s inferiority toward Vivian had clearly escalated all the way into a physical struggle.

It was only natural that Vivian, who had not regained consciousness, had to be prioritized over the Duchess, who had come to with groans.

Since it had been an urgent matter, Harold immediately carried Vivian on his back and ran in search of the physician, then returned alone afterward, but the Duchess was gone.

‘If you mean the Duchess, she just left in a carriage, saying she had somewhere to go.’

Since she had recovered enough to stand up and even go out herself, he had thought there was nothing seriously wrong with her side. In the first place, the Duchess had surely been the one to pick the quarrel first, so it had been perfectly reasonable to prioritize Lady Alois’s precious guest.

At least, until one of the maids cleaning the marble floor where the two had fallen asked a question.

‘Butler, there’s blood here.’

‘Blood? Fortunately, Lady Alois was said not to have suffered any particular wound….’

Having said that much, he realized that the bloodstain the maid pointed to was not where Vivian, whom he himself had picked up and carried, had been lying.

It was where the crouched Duchess had been groaning.

He had felt that something about it was not quite right, but someone seriously injured could never have gotten up perfectly fine. Thinking that, he instructed the servants to keep absolutely quiet about what had happened. Even so, the strange unease had stayed with him all day long.

Even if the Duchess had been badly hurt, it would have been no more than the consequence of her own actions. Clicking his tongue at the cunningness of the woman who had run ahead first to make excuses to the Duke, Harold instructed the physician to focus on treating Vivian.

Naturally so, since if it came out that the Duchess of Polshared had injured Lady Alois, who had come as a guest, it would be a matter that would greatly damage the standing of the family.

However, even by that night, when he had escorted the recovered Vivian all the way back to the Marquisate, the Duchess had still not returned. There was no word from her even by the next day, and until the moment he faced the Duchess when she finally returned around noon, Harold had prepared a suitable answer in case she said something about the incident.

But the Duchess said nothing and left carrying only one small travel bag.

Only then, struck by a strange feeling, he asked her destination for the first time, and the Duchess wore an expression he had never seen in his life. In that instant, a chill no less frightening than that of his cold master sent a cold sweat down his spine.

‘Congratulations, Butler.’

‘Wh… what do you mean.’

‘Just as you wished, you’ll never have to see my face again.’

Two hours after the Duchess departed, muttering those incomprehensible words, the article came out, and Harold was aghast.

Pregnancy and miscarriage.

The maids and servants who read the paper with him were equally shocked at first, but then all shook their heads, saying it could not be true.

‘Isn’t that absurd? What miscarriage, and what pregnancy? If she’s going to lie, she should at least make it believable.’

Everyone in the mansion believed the Duchess was lying. He had been one of them as well, but the red drops of blood on the white marble kept clouding his thoughts for days.

Fortunately, a few days later a correction article appeared stating that the husband’s violence and the miscarriage, which had been cited as grounds for divorce, were false claims by the Duchess, and only then was Harold completely freed from the impossible assumption that had plagued him, even if only briefly.

And so, just as everyone had returned to their peaceful daily routine, the shameless woman who had nearly brought a great scandal upon the Duchy of Polshared returned.

That day, rather than report the accident in the hall to the Duke, Harold settled it quietly himself. That was because Lady Alois had requested that it be passed over in silence, saying he had no intention of making an issue of it.

At the time, Harold had even admired Vivian’s kindness and promised to do so. But now that things had come to this, he could not help feeling deeply uneasy.

If the Duchess’s claim had not been false.

“Oh, what nonsense am I even thinking.”

The moment that thought arose, Harold shook his head sharply and erased it.

‘The Duchess has a body that finds it difficult to conceive.’

Had that not been exactly what the physician of the ducal residence, who had examined the Duchess after her marriage into the house, had said.

“Yes. It can’t be.”

No one knew better than he did that the pregnancy and miscarriage could not possibly have been real.

As he recalled once more how distant the couple’s relationship had been at the time, to the point that they could barely even face each other, a trace of relief spread across his face.

There was no way Harold, who had served the Dukedom of Polshared over several generations, could have made such a mistake.

He pushed the memory of that day, which strangely grated at his mind, deep back down inside it once more.