Chapter 3 – The Man Named Bryant Clifton (Part 7)

He continued, looking at the wine in his glass.

“Unfortunately, when the fiancée died in an unexpected accident just before the wedding, Grand Duchess Elizabeth married Prince Logan in her sister’s place, taking her sister’s betrothed as her husband.”

“……”

“I heard Her Highness had a lover at the time.”

Bryant stopped there. He seemed to know more of the story but chose not to elaborate. He stared at his wine glass for a moment, then raised his eyes to look at her. Evelyn thought his faint smile looked somewhat bitter.

“When you’re in society, there are quite a few stories you have to hear, even if you’re not curious.”

The man added, as if explaining, and let out a short sigh. 

Was the alcohol affecting him?

His normally composed exterior seemed a little softer.

“People tend to think of nobles as if they live in fairy tales. Perhaps it’s because what they present to the outside world looks so good. But if you look inside a noble’s mansion, it’s neither as honorable nor as comfortable. Like the Blooming Mansion.”

Bryant smiled slowly. The Blooming Mansion. Evelyn returned a faint smile to him.

“Mrs. Higgins said she thought I’d be lonely living here alone, but it’s not much different from when I was in Elgagrove.”

“……”

“Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever not been lonely in my life.”

For a moment, Evelyn was slightly shocked. It was such a startlingly honest confession that the listener felt at a loss. She then prepared herself for a deeper conversation. When someone reveals a vulnerable part, there’s a natural impulse to show a similar part of oneself. It was a natural impulse.

“I must be drunk. I’m saying all sorts of things.”

“No, Mr. Clifton.”

“We should get up. It’s getting late.”

But the man didn’t seem interested in having a deeper conversation with her. By lightly pushing the remaining wine glass aside, he indicated his decision to leave. Evelyn was the one who found it regrettable.

She wanted to stay here longer. She wanted to have a deeper conversation with him. Looking at the side profile of the man who turned his head toward the window, Evelyn thought. It would be nice to stay a little longer together.

However, Bryant did not look at her. He only observed the pouring rain beyond the large glass window draped with blue curtains. Then, in a low, murmuring voice,

“It’s raining heavily. Such torrential rain is rare.”

With words that sounded like admiration or a sigh, the man stood up. Evelyn, watching him approach, hurriedly stood up as well. She regretted not waiting gracefully for him to come around and pull out her chair.

“The maid will show you to your room. If you need anything, just ask the staff.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Bryant smiled and began to walk. Evelyn followed him toward the closed door of the dining room. She visually traced the white shirt, navy vest, and black trousers he wore. The clothes fit perfectly, accentuating his upright posture. 

He’s really tall. And broad-shouldered. 

Evelyn found herself unconsciously appraising the man’s back.

Bryant Clifton had a robust build. Not quite hulking, but sufficiently sturdy. His frame itself was large, and his muscles were firm, not the typical physique of a gentleman. Yet, he appeared elegant, likely due to his demeanor. A composed expression. Unhurried gestures. An air of ease and dignity ingrained in him. The traits people commonly describe as “noble.”

Evelyn watched his back like that. The way he walked ahead. His elegant and neat attire. The posture that showed no signs of intoxication. The way he gripped the dining room door handle with his large hand. She observed all these aspects. Then, when she realized with some surprise and embarrassment that her gaze was somewhat voyeuristic,

“Miss Evelyn.”

He let go of the door handle and turned around.

Evelyn stood facing him. She felt somewhat intimidated, thinking she had been caught spying. When he turned toward her and started approaching, she seemed to sense what was about to happen.

And her intuition was correct.

As he came close, he lowered his head and slowly pressed his lips to her right cheek. The touch was moist and soft. Evelyn felt as if the fine hairs on her nape were standing on end.

It was no illusion. It was definitely a different sensation.

It was clearly different from the dry lips that had lightly brushed her skin when she first arrived at the house, and it was different from the kiss that had intermittently troubled her thoughts over the past ten days. This time, his kiss was much longer, wetter, and warmer.

Time seemed to stretch out. It felt as if it had stopped. Even after his lips slowly pulled away from her cheek, Evelyn couldn’t think of anything. She was frozen, having forgotten even to reciprocate. Their faces were still close enough to almost touch.

The man, who had been waiting for a moment, slightly raised his head. Their eyes met as if drawn together. Darkly dilated pupils and gray-blue irises. His eyes were gazing at her from an uncomfortably close distance. His breath brushed against her lips, and at that moment, Evelyn averted her gaze as if to escape.

The scent from the nape of his neck. The smell of perfume mixed with wine. The man’s warm body heat retreated backward.

“Goodnight.”

At his low farewell, she looked up again. As if waiting for that, Bryant smiled slightly. Then, without a fuss, he turned and opened the closed door. The hallway beyond was lit with lamps.

Evelyn felt as if her mind was half-empty. She felt this way until she was led by a maid to a bedroom on the third floor. The guest room was very cozy and well-decorated, but none of it registered with her.

Evelyn’s mind was filled entirely with imagination. The sound of a man’s footsteps approaching this room. Knocking on the door from outside, hesitating a little before opening it, their intense gazes meeting again, and the man rushing in to kiss her fiercely.

The scent of cologne from his warm shoulders. The smell of wine mixed with his rough breathing.

“Haah…”

Evelyn sighed unconsciously. Her breath came out in a thin, trembling stream. She wandered around the unfamiliar room for a while, unable to sleep.

*

… In hindsight, it was a very simple logic. Just as the opposite poles of a magnet attract each other. Just as a healthy stallion charges at a mare. An utterly natural attraction between the sexes.

… She desired him and wanted to be desired by him. She wanted to be both the subject and object of a fiery desire. In the face of such a blind yearning, the urgencies of reality held no power. There was no force capable of stopping the fantasy that had already begun.

… Louisa wanted to be loved.

<From “Blooming Mansion,” Chapter 3: Moments of Temptation>

*

The rain was pouring down heavily. It seemed as if the world had stopped due to the rare downpour. The streetlights in the park beyond the window appeared blurred.

Bryant drew back the curtain and pushed the window open. The damp, cold air rushed in. He brought the cigarette in his hand to his lips again. Inhaling deeply, he exhaled slowly. His dulled senses seemed to awaken slightly. Perhaps it was the external chill on his face, or maybe the torrential rain cooling his heated body.

Bryant took three consecutive drags from the cigarette. He even slightly bit the filter with his teeth. The more he did so, the sharper his senses became. The feel of skin against his lips. The soft, warm flesh. The scent of chocolate emanating from tightly closed lips.

The eyes that looked up at him, frozen. Brown eyes mixed with tension and a peculiar warmth.

When he met those eyes, Bryant felt a strong temptation. He thought about pressing his lips to hers and tasting the inside with his tongue. He wanted to grasp her slender neck and bury his nose in her chocolate-colored hair. The urge was so strong that he almost succumbed to it. If either the timing or the place had been appropriate, he probably would have.

“Hoo…”

He exhaled the smoke a little faster than usual.

The room where the woman was staying was at the far right end of the third floor. Directly above his head. If he left his room and went up the stairs, he could reach it in under two minutes. If he knocked on the door from outside, she would hesitate. That smart and sensitive woman would be able to distinguish between the knocks of the maids and his presence. But even if she hesitated a little, she would open the door. He knew she would, eventually.

Bryant knew. That what he desired, the woman desired as well. He had already sensed the woman’s animalistic attraction to him. It was indeed a very easy thing to do. Unless one was a novice, it was an exceedingly easy thing to do.

Therefore, he could also imagine what would happen next. Their excited lips meeting, wet tongues intertwining, hot hands lifting the woman’s chemise. The vision of her accepting him was so vivid it felt almost real.

“Hoo…”

Bryant inhaled slowly. He expanded his chest gradually and exhaled again. He brought the cigarette between his fingers to his lips and, exhaling a long stream of smoke, thought.

Is it okay to start this relationship?