Chapter 7.4

Natalie, seeming tickled by Edgar’s laughter, cupped her cheeks and slipped out of his embrace. She quickly darted into the narrow space between Edgar and the window. Edgar reached for her but only managed to grab her hand. However, he couldn’t pull her back to him.

Natalie stopped abruptly, her gaze fixed on something—or someone. Following her line of sight, Edgar saw Leonard standing there.

When Edgar drew back the curtain, Leonard’s gaze shifted to him. Leonard alternated between looking at Edgar and Natalie before speaking.

“I have something to say to Miss Maron.”

Leonard’s eyes fell on their clasped hands—specifically, Edgar’s hand holding Natalie’s. Natalie, noticing Leonard’s gaze, tried to pull her hand away. Edgar released her hand, letting it fall empty to his side. He clenched his now vacant hand quietly.

Natalie glanced at Edgar, her eyes seeming to ask for permission. Edgar smiled at her.

“Go ahead, Natalie.”

Natalie hesitated, standing still as she continued to look at him. Edgar took a step back, leaning against the window.

“I’ll be waiting here.”

He offered her a smile that feigned calmness. Natalie finally withdrew her gaze from Edgar. Leonard, confident that Natalie would follow him, led the way. As the skilled violin melody continued to fill the room, Natalie followed him out.

The two left through the drawing room door. As Natalie disappeared from sight, Edgar lowered his gaze to his hand. The nail marks left from his grip hadn’t faded, and now his palm stung with delayed pain.

The violin melody, which had grown intense, was approaching its end. The nearing conclusion of the performance made Edgar restless.

All Edgar could do was imagine what lay beyond the unseen door. Like in the tearoom or the theater, he pictured Natalie smiling brightly, no matter what Leonard said to her.

The cold air seeping from the window was sharp, not just chilly. The hope Edgar had held for Natalie to laugh joyfully at the piano now felt hollow. The thought of her smiling brightly was no longer comforting.

What had Leonard said to her? Had he praised her performance? Had his compliments made her smile? Or had he said the words Natalie wanted to hear the most? Perhaps he had confessed—or proposed.

The violinist’s performance was coming to an end, just as Edgar’s false romance was nearing its conclusion.

Hoping for it not to end was foolish. That meant Edgar himself was foolish. Unable to bring the stage he had set to a proper conclusion, he was left fearing its inevitable end.

He could storm onto the stage and deliver the lines that hadn’t been given to him. But what then? What would happen after he stole away the husband Natalie wanted?

One thing was certain: Edgar would no longer be the gentleman Natalie welcomed with joy. The carefully prepared play would be ruined.

He wanted to act selfishly but also wanted to appear as a good person. He wished to be the friend who could always help her but also wanted to disrupt everything. No matter what choice he made, it felt like the wrong one.

Edgar’s gaze lingered on the door Natalie had passed through. If Leonard proposed, it would all be over.

The tension that had built alongside the violin’s crescendo was sharp. Like the rising and falling notes, Edgar’s heart swayed uneasily.

The melody stopped. The performer bowed politely, and lively applause erupted.

Edgar’s shoes struck the floor as he stepped forward. His hurried steps carried him toward the door.

Amidst the applause for the flawless performance, Edgar’s disrupted steps led him toward Natalie.

***

Salinger turned back after stepping out of the drawing room. Natalie hesitated and stepped back, standing close to the doorway. The silence made her nervous.

“Please… speak.”

Unlike Natalie, Salinger remained composed as he began.

“Edgar has no intention of marrying.”

The sudden mention of Edgar’s name made Natalie’s eyes widen. Salinger maintained his upright posture as he continued.

“I’m saying this for your sake, Miss Maron. If you wish only for a fleeting romance and not marriage, then there’s no issue. But I doubt that’s the case.”

“…”

“Miss Maron, you would make an excellent wife. I will strive to be a good husband, and if we build a family together, we will lack nothing.”

His words, neither romantic nor poetic, were far from the proposal Natalie had dreamed of. Yet their meaning was clear.

Salinger was proposing to her. To Natalie.

Even if it was more of a suggestion than a proposal.

The gaze he directed at her was firm and unwavering. It wasn’t the look of someone in love—there was no tension or trembling in his eyes. It was calm, as though he were merely doing what needed to be done.

Caught off guard, Natalie’s mind blanked, and she couldn’t find the words to respond. She stared at Salinger in a daze.

“I’m grateful that you think well of me, but… I’m… Edgar… Edgar’s…”

Her words faltered between “I like Edgar” and “I’m Edgar’s lover.” Confused, she couldn’t decide how to respond.

As Natalie struggled to continue, silence filled the hallway. Her gaze wandered around Salinger’s neatly held cane.

“Miss Maron.”

Salinger called her name in a calm tone. When he stepped closer, Natalie instinctively stepped back, her heel catching on the threshold. She lost her balance and leaned backward, almost falling.

But before she could fall, someone caught her by the shoulders. Natalie turned to see who had steadied her.

The silence was broken by Edgar’s voice.

“Miss Maron, what happens next?”

Edgar directed his question at Salinger. There was no response. Edgar’s lips curled into a slight smile.

“Is it something I shouldn’t hear?”

Though he was smiling, Edgar’s face seemed sharp. His expression, though cheerful, carried a cold edge as he looked at Salinger. Faced with Edgar’s piercing gaze, Salinger stood silently, maintaining his upright posture.

Natalie found herself caught between the two men, unable to act. She couldn’t avoid Mr. Salinger’s gaze, nor could she leave Mr. Wharton’s side, as his firm grip on her shoulder held her in place. 

Mr. Salinger adjusted his cane and approached Natalie.

“Take your time to think about what I said. The answer doesn’t have to come immediately.”

His low voice carried a tone that implied the outcome was already decided, no matter how long it took for her to respond. Natalie stood frozen as Mr. Salinger passed by her and returned to the drawing room, remaining still until Mr. Wharton’s hand on her shoulder finally loosened. 

Mr. Wharton released her.

“It’s all going well, just as planned.”

His tone was indifferent, almost detached. Natalie gripped the spot on her shoulder where his hand had been. His soft voice flowed into her ears.

“Don’t worry. I’m not the kind of man who gets jealous just because my lover exchanged a few words with another man.”

To Natalie, his words sounded like a declaration that there was no reason to be jealous of a fake lover. The wariness toward Mr. Salinger was nothing more than an act, a role she played flawlessly as Miss Maron’s lover. 

It was all a performance to shake Mr. Salinger’s heart and place it in Natalie’s hands.

Natalie tightened her grip on her shoulder.

“…How generous of you.”

“I’m generous and patient. You can go back and talk to him some more if you’d like.” 

Mr. Wharton glanced toward the drawing room, as if he were suggesting she return to the person who had just left. 

Natalie looked at Mr. Wharton, who seemed ready to hand her over to Mr. Salinger at any moment. Words that had unsettled her mind began to resurface.

“I often hear stories about people dating someone easy to leave and marrying someone else based on conditions. It’s truly a pity for women.”

“People wearing things beyond their means always fidget nervously.”

Natalie quietly looked up at the man who seemed at times so close, yet infinitely distant. Her gaze soon dropped to the floor. 

There’s no reason to feel disappointed. This is only natural.

Looking at her worn-out shoes compared to Mr. Wharton’s polished ones, Natalie steeled herself once more. But then, she felt a soft, unmistakable sensation on the corner of her eye—his lips. She flinched and closed one eye. 

When she looked up, Mr. Wharton was smiling at her with gentle eyes.

“You didn’t think about me much today.”

It was a kiss that engraved once again the curse that she must think of him every time she opened her eyes. Natalie couldn’t escape the blue eyes that met hers, lowering themselves to meet her gaze. 

She felt as though she were wandering endlessly in a maze, unable to escape or move forward. 

The beautiful man smiled innocently, as if he knew nothing of love, teasing her every moment with, “Say you love me.” He wore the face of a charming boy, yet held the hearts of those in love in his hands. 

But if she were to confess her love, he would likely turn away, losing interest in a game he had already won.

Even so, Natalie resented her heart for pounding wildly whenever he looked at her. Before his cruel and beautiful smile, which would not allow her to say the words “I love you,” her heart lost its way once more.