Chapter 3 – The Man Named Bryant Clifton (Part 9)

When Evelyn arrived, three people were already seated at the breakfast table.

Breakfast was delicious. They had omelets with cheese, salad, warm whole wheat bread, and a variety of neatly cut fruits. The sweet and tart oranges suited Evelyn’s taste particularly well, and she nearly finished an entire one.

As they were almost done with their meal, having exchanged appropriate conversation, Paul Higgins asked,

“Sir, it’s a holiday, do you have any plans for the day?”

“I have to go to the printing house in the morning. I need to check a few things for the reprint of The Evergreen Forest.”

“Oh. Are they printing a generous quantity this time?”

“Of course.”

Engaging in conversation with the editor, Bryant reached for a plate at the center of the round table. Evelyn, with her teacup to her lips, followed his movements with her eyes. A cluster of grapes lay temptingly on the white plate. She watched as his long fingers plucked a grape and placed it between his parted lips, his jaw and temple muscles moving slowly. Only after this did she set her teacup clinking onto the saucer.

“You must offer it when it’s most desired. If you keep them waiting too long, it might cause resentment.”

Bryant said, turning his head toward her. A faint smile lingered in his blue-gray eyes. Looking into those eyes, Evelyn recalled that The Evergreen Forest was her new book. The one they were controlling supply for promotional purposes.

“Have you ever visited a printing house, Miss Evelyn?”

He asked. Evelyn, sensing the intention behind the question, shook her head.

“No, I haven’t had the chance yet.”

“Would you like to visit today? That is, if you don’t have any special plans for the morning.”

It won’t take long. 

He added as he continued.

“I’ll take you home afterward.”

The man’s face was calm and untroubled. It was a proposal he was confident would be accepted. Indeed, Evelyn had no reason to refuse.

“Yes, I’d like that. Thank you.”

However, after breakfast, when the Higgins couple left first, Evelyn had to face an unexpected variable. Bryant, who had disappeared after asking her to wait, reappeared with a car. In other words, he was driving it himself.

Seeing him in the driver’s seat, Evelyn was quite taken aback. 

This was akin to putting him in the coachman’s seat, wasn’t it? 

The seat next to the driver was meant for an attendant. What if sitting there awkwardly interfered with his driving? But she couldn’t very well sit in the back like a master. Her mind suddenly became very complicated, but she didn’t know the etiquette for such an unfamiliar situation.

The car came to a precise stop in front of the townhouse entrance. Bryant, having stepped out from the driver’s seat, walked around to Evelyn’s side and opened the passenger door, offering his hand.

“Please get in.”

“Is it alright for me to sit in the front seat?”

Evelyn asked with a rather serious look. To be honest, she was a bit scared. Bryant, seemingly pondering the meaning of the question, looked at her and then replied lightly with a smile.

“You may sit in the back seat, Miss Author.”

He probably thought it was a joke. Instead of explaining that it was a serious question, Evelyn quietly took the hand he offered. After getting into the car, she watched as Bryant came back around to the front. A man in gentleman’s attire sitting in the driver’s seat. Evelyn still couldn’t shake the feeling of incongruity.

“Are you good with cars?”

“Why? Are you worried?”

The woman, whose weak spot had been hit, closed her mouth. His intuition is really sharp. It seemed he understood even the words she muttered inwardly. At his low chuckle, Evelyn felt a bit embarrassed.

“Don’t worry. I’m capable enough to get you home safely.”

With a smile in his voice, the car started moving. Unlike Evelyn, who tensed reflexively, Bryant seemed at ease. He let the woman sitting next to him watch him for a while, then at some point chuckled while holding the steering wheel.

“Are you going to keep monitoring me until we arrive?”

“I wasn’t monitoring you.”

“But you were staring at me intently.”

“When did I do that?”

He didn’t answer. He just kept his eyes on the road with a slightly sly expression. Evelyn, feeling awkward, threw out a question that came to mind.

“Were you alright last night?”

“Why do you think I wasn’t alright last night?”

“You drank a lot of wine.”

“…Ah.”

“Mr. Higgins seemed a bit drunk even earlier today.”

“I’m fine with about three bottles on my own. More than that depends on my condition.”

“You have quite a tolerance.”

“It runs in the family. Not that it’s something to brag about.”

At that, Evelyn fell silent. She couldn’t help but recall the facts about his ‘family.’ Elgagrove. A southern marquisate known for producing fine wine. Moreover, she had to reconsider the status of the man sitting beside her, close enough for their elbows to touch.

Bryant Clifton was a nobleman. Even though he treated her with utmost courtesy and was willing to drive the car himself, he was the brother of a marquis. A man who didn’t suit a woman like Evelyn Dale, someone who couldn’t mix with her like white and red.

But what did that matter? After all, he was a bachelor by choice.

At that thought, Evelyn let out a small laugh. Following that, a deep sense of self-loathing washed over her. It was pitiful how she instinctively tied relationships between men and women to marriage. 

Are you still hoping? Haven’t you realized it yet? Even now?

Evelyn stared quietly at nothing in particular, pressing her lips together tightly.

After a long pause, she spoke again.

“There’s a saying in my hometown: Love is like wine.”

The man in the driver’s seat listened quietly.

“Wine is both bitter and sweet, isn’t it? At first, it stings the tongue, but it gradually softens. The more you drink, the more intoxicated you become, and the more absorbed you get, until eventually, you completely lose your mind. You reach a point where you don’t even know who you are.”

“…”

“When I was young, I thought that saying praised love, but now I think it carries a warning.”

“A warning?”

“It means not to get too carried away. Just like excessive drinking is dangerous.”

The woman spoke in a somewhat didactic tone. The man, who was watching the road, let out a short laugh.

“I think I understand why you have a cynical view of love, Miss Evelyn.”

“I don’t recall ever sharing my views on love with you.”

“I’d appreciate it if you remembered that I’ve read all your works.”

He continued, still looking ahead.

“The love in your novels is always destructive. Louisa from The Blooming Mansion killed the man she loved, and Polster from The Evergreen Forest killed the woman he loved. The love you depict always involves betrayal or doubt and ends in ruin.”

“…”

“Now I see that you imbue your works with a sense of caution. A warning not to get too carried away.”

He mimicked her tone. This time, Evelyn let out a short laugh.

“Is that why you chose to remain single, Mr. Clifton?”

“Could you elaborate a bit more?”

“Whether it’s betrayal or suspicion, love is bound to end, and you think it’s irrational to promise a lifetime because of that finite emotion.”

“Is that what you think?”

“…What exactly are you asking?”

“I’m asking if what you just said aligns with your own views, Miss Evelyn.”

Bryant asked, turning his head. Evelyn, who had been looking straight ahead, also turned to face him. In the stationary car, their gazes met. Close enough for their elbows to almost touch.

“Yes. That’s what I think.”

With a rather firm tone, the woman nodded.

“I see.”

With a slightly ambiguous smile, the man nodded.

Bryant continued to look into her eyes. For a moment, he lowered his gaze as if in thought, but soon met her eyes again. The woman’s brown eyes were steadily gazing at him.

“That’s not why I chose to remain single, but I completely agree with what you just said.”

He continued. Evelyn focused.

“Especially the part about love being a finite emotion. In my experience, ladies are often reluctant to accept that fact, which I find quite impressive.”

“Do you think less of women with romantic notions, Mr. Clifton?”

“Not at all. I’m rather inclined to pursue romance. The difference is, I enjoy those thoughts without applying them to reality. Romance is an illusion, after all. Separate from reality.”

Bryant resumed driving the car slowly as he spoke.

“If Louisa had known that, she could have simply enjoyed her passion with the Earl. She became unhappy because she harbored the desire to possess him eternally. She believed that was love.”

“You interpret the essence of love as a desire to possess.”

“You’ve hit the nail on the head. Yes, it’s a desire to possess. In Louisa’s case, I think that’s largely true.”

Bryant was serious. He seemed to find this discussion interesting. He always showed an intriguing attitude whenever a debate arose with her. Just as Evelyn herself did.

“Although the very object that the word ‘love’ refers to is, in fact, quite ambiguous.”

“Language can never fully express reality.”

“Quite right. Language is subjective.”

“What do you think, Mr. Clifton?”

“About what?”

“The subject that the word ‘love’ refers to. I’m curious about your perspective.”

“As I mentioned earlier, I think it’s passion.”

He answered without hesitation. As if he had often received this kind of question.

“Love is a temporary passion, overlaid with romantic illusions.”

Evelyn didn’t respond. She just looked at the man’s profile as he drove. His extremely rational definition sent a chill through her heart. Temporary passion. Romantic illusion. Wasn’t that precisely the essence of the ‘love’ she had experienced?

She was hurt because she dreamed of eternity. Her dreams shattered because she wanted possession. In hindsight, love was truly nothing more than a temporary passion. Love was just an illusion, a fleeting dream.