Chapter 57 – Lovers of the Century

The scandal of the Duke of Guienne and the up-and-coming painter from the countryside began in a small printing house in Laurent. The rumor spread quietly, but quickly. It was not strange. The citizens of Laurent had always been deeply interested in the private life of the Duke, who owned that splendid hotel. And if the other party was not Madame Eleonore, long publicly known as his lover, but some mysterious new woman, then all the more so.

If one wished to find them, there were more than enough witnesses. There were dozens of spectators who had seen the Duke of Guienne rush in to save that woman at the racetrack that day. The rumor, gradually embellished, began to take shape.

‘The famous Duke of Guienne of Laurent, city of cities, and an obscure painter from some backwater no one has even heard of!’

It would not have been an exaggeration to call them the most ill-matched couple in the world. Especially when everyone in this city publicly knew who the Duke of Guienne’s previous lover had been.

Most of the newspapers that printed such opinions without hesitation were hardly respectable enough to be called a press at all, mere low-grade gossip sheets. And yet as long as they printed the Duke’s name, the copies sold out the instant they were put on the street. They sold so furiously there was scarcely time even to restock the stands.

By the time the whispers that had begun below the surface were gradually rising above it, fortunately or unfortunately, a larger scandal broke out and the rumors about Sasha quieted down.

《Madame Eleonore Affair Scandal!》

The newspapers quickly changed to new headlines.

<They say Madame Eleonore had an affair with the owner of a sugar company! One of the famous patrons of Corbisier Theater.>

The citizens of Laurent clicked their tongues at the boldness of Madame Eleonore, who had dared to stray while involved with the Duke of Guienne.

<Good heavens, then only now do I understand that scandal with the Duke of Guienne and the obscure painter not long ago.>

<How on earth did the story leap to that?>

Reflecting public sentiment, the newspapers hammered at their typewriters until their hands burned. Follow-up articles came out at unprecedented speed. The headlines were sensational, but the point was mostly the same. The love affair between the Duke and the actress, which had stirred Laurent despite the difference in status, that couple of the century, would they overcome the scandal and succeed in reuniting?

<Still, there is a child between them, is there not!>

<Is there any guarantee that child is the Duke of Guienne’s?>

<That only makes it more remarkable. If he would even accept another man’s child, then how deeply must the Duke of Guienne love Madame Eleonore?>

* * *

Madame Eleonore, all but the lady of Corbisier Theater in truth, knew better than anyone how to make use of gossip surrounding her. She was a woman born with an innate talent for turning crisis into opportunity.

Eleonore already knew that, in any case, the Duke of Guienne would never bother to explain the scandal. That man had always behaved as though, rather than let the revelation of the former Duke’s illegitimate child damage the family and the business, it was better simply to throw himself to the press as prey.

Of course, Eleonore knew why that man behaved that way as well. The Duke of Guienne was a man who knew, irritatingly well, that his worth would not be diminished in the least by something as trivial as a third-rate scandal.

‘Even so, it is still a pity to let a man like that go.’

When the scandal broke, Eleonore had expected that the Duke of Guienne would come looking for her in anger, or at least show signs of being stirred. Regrettably, there was still no sign of that.

Eleonore clicked her tongue. Then again, some men caught fire late. The very thought of that arrogant man realizing his feelings too late and begging at her feet was thrilling.

Even after the scandal that had set the whole city talking broke out, the Duke of Guienne did not come to see her, nor did he leave even a single letter. Only one thing changed, the increase in her allowance. When the Duke doubled the living expenses he sent each month, Eleonore had no difficulty guessing it. He had taken her affair with the owner of the sugar company as her own way of protesting that the money was no longer sufficient.

‘Or could it be that he somehow discovered that I was the one who first sold the scandal story to the newspaper?’

But a few days later, when the newspaper that had first bought the article shut down without a whisper, she realized with a chill down her spine that it was the latter after all. She had done it in complete secrecy, so secretly that not even the newspaper itself had known.

“Eleonore! What on earth is all this! What crazy thing have you done again while I was away!”

The theater manager, who had been abroad soliciting donations and only belatedly returned after hearing the news, came looking for her with froth at his mouth. That shrill shouting made her head pound. Eleonore reflexively frowned, then hurriedly smoothed the wrinkle between her brows.

‘Explaining things to the Duke can wait. I should deal with what is urgent first.’

Really, for a foreigner who never would have touched this much money if it were not for her, he made a fuss over every little thing. For a man of such thickened size, he had a liver no bigger than a bean.

“George, do not worry so much. I have a plan.”

Eleonore persuaded the man rushing toward her in a gentle voice.

“What is it?”

Shaking her head, Eleonore brushed off the shoulder of George, who had come running in such haste that he had not even dusted off the dirt from the station. George scowled. He knew perfectly well that it was dangerous to be too easily taken in by this woman’s confident words. She was the kind of woman who always believed everyone else was in the palm of her hand, and who would one day be caught in her own cleverness.

“Promise me you will not rush and will at least hear me to the end first, George. And one more favor, do not put me under stress. The lovely canary of Corbisier Theater cannot sing if her throat is damaged.”

George swallowed an exclamation. It could not be denied that Eleonore possessed a face so pure and beautiful it could make a man’s heart tender in an instant.

Well, of course she had. That was why, when she debuted in the perfectly suited role of a tragic heroine, she had exploded into popularity. But after ten years or so, other outstanding actresses were replacing her in that place. The age of Madame Eleonore was fading, unnoticed by no one and yet right before everyone’s eyes.

‘A rise takes no time at all, but a fall is even quicker.’

Eleonore knew that better than anyone, and so she had clung desperately to her relationships with patrons. The woman who could not forget the glory of the past and whose standards had risen to the very edge of the sky indulged in luxuries beyond her means.

And yet despite the public rumors, she was not in truth the Duke of Guienne’s secret lover. Eleonore had never once given a clear answer, but George had known by instinct.

‘If that were not so, if they were really that devoted despite the difference in status, how could he never once have come to the theater to see her.’

Others thought that the security at Corbisier Theater was so tight that the two of them could meet there in secret without anyone knowing, but George, as manager of the theater, knew the truth. The young Duke of Guienne never once paid a covert visit to the theater to see the soprano.

George cast Eleonore a quick sidelong glance with his small eyes. In any case, judging by how composed this woman still looked, this did not seem likely to be the moment of her downfall. At least not this time.

“All right, so tell me first. If it turns out to be nonsense again this time….”

With a sigh, George dropped himself into the chair opposite Eleonore and asked, drawing deeply on the cigar he had lit. Smiling brightly as though she had expected this, Eleonore explained the plan she had already prepared.

Convincing George was not very difficult. Just as Eleonore wanted, she was able to put on a new production starring herself at Corbisier Theater. And as always, luck followed her once again. Just as it always had every time she threw her decisive move at a moment of crisis.

Tickets for the new performance of the charming star who monopolized the love of Laurent’s richest and most distinguished gentleman sold as furiously as the number of newspapers carrying the scandal.

* * *

As she passed through the lobby, Sasha did not know where to rest her eyes. It was because every newspaper people were holding had the name of someone she knew printed on it.

Here, and there too, if it was a newspaper published in Laurent, then every single one had that man’s name printed on it. The strange thing was that even amidst all that, not a single photograph of him appeared anywhere, which made it all the more peculiar when one considered that the face of Madame Eleonore, the other half of the scandal, was printed huge in every paper.

Barely making it through the lobby and arriving at the restaurant, Sasha rubbed her eyes. The very subject of the scandal was sitting there eating breakfast as calmly as ever. It was the first time she had seen him since they had parted at the racetrack like that. He looked astonishingly unaffected.

“Is it really all right for you to be sitting here eating like this right now?”

Looking around her, Sasha lowered her voice and asked.

“There are your friends.”

Rather than answer, Robert pointed behind her. As though the question she had just asked was not even worth a reply.

Sasha turned to the direction his finger indicated. Inside the basket set upon the table, round, appetizing brioches were gathered together, giving off the scent of butter.