“Bella.”

As Bella finished getting ready to go out and started down the stairs, the landlord stopped her.

“I received a call for you. From a man named Jack Hunter.”

The moment she heard the name, Bella’s hand froze.

Although she had expected him to call at least once, now that he had, a sense of unease settled in her chest.

Was he going to question her about what had happened with the duke?

Bella’s expression darkened as she remembered the scene at the restaurant.

“Thank you for letting me know.”

She answered calmly, but her voice was stiff.

The old man did not press her further. He simply nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

Bella nodded quickly to his retreating back and stepped outside. The letter intended for the Countess was inside her bag. She felt she would not be able to breathe easily until it had been posted, so she quickened her pace.

Following the streets she had started to recognize, she caught a tram bound for the busy district where the post office was located.

No matter how many times she saw it, the capital still felt foreign to her, with its crowded streets lined with towering buildings and endless streams of vehicles passing one another without pause.

Just before reaching the post office, Bella slowed to a stop in front of a shop window.

A pure white dress had caught her eye.

A wedding gown.

Its silhouette curved gently around the waist, the fabric gathering and reflecting the light. Layer upon layer of lace created a soft, luxurious fullness.

As she stood gazing at it, lost in the sight, a long-buried memory rose quietly to the surface.

“What category should this go under?”

“What do you think?”

Bella asked, helping the Duke sort through the photographs.

The hall had been set up to look like an aisle, with an open path running through the center and chairs arranged on either side. The aisle was adorned with hundreds of flowers. It didn’t feel like an ordinary salon; it felt as though it had been set up for a special occasion.

“Set those aside separately. If there are similar photos, file them together.”

Logan said, briefly glancing at the photograph in Bella’s hand. Then he returned his gaze to the documents—only to set the papers down a moment later.

“I’m thinking of starting a wedding business at the Fraser Hotel.”

“A wedding business…?”

Seeing the interest in Bella’s eyes, the duke continued his explanation.

With the onset of the Industrial Revolution, a new class of wealthy commoners began to emerge. Like the nobility, they too desired weddings of equal splendor. For a once-in-a-lifetime ceremony, they wanted a venue more extraordinary than an ordinary church or town hall.

“Memories may fade with time, but the emotions tied to them remain. I intend to create a wedding that can only take place at the Fraser Hotel — a place that couples will never forget. A place that couples will never forget.”

He spoke with unwavering conviction. The confidence in his voice — that of a man who already held the future in his hands — made others believe him without question.

“If you were to marry someday, where would you want it to be?”

He suddenly asked Bella, who had been setting aside photographs of potential wedding venues.

She studied the pictures spread out in front of her. Blue, yellow, purple — sometimes a combination of two colors — each creating a different atmosphere. After a moment’s thought, she lifted a photo that had been partially hidden beneath the others.

“Here.”

A reception hall adorned entirely in white flowers. It most closely resembled the emperor’s wedding she had once read about in a book.

“Of course, it would cost a fortune to use this many flowers.”

Bella let out a light laugh. Given the cost of such a venue, she knew that getting married in such an extravagant place was out of the question. But what if it didn’t cost anything?

“What about you, Your Grace?”

“I’ve never given it much thought.”

“In that case… Lady Amelia likes yellow, so perhaps your wedding could be decorated with yellow flowers. I think that would be lovely.”

Bella murmured softly, idly brushing the corner of the photograph with her fingers.

Someone had once said that the reason the duke came to Rosedale, after such a long engagement, was to discuss marriage.

“Well…”

When he heard Bella’s words, Logan’s expression became unreadable. He neither agreed nor disagreed. He seemed lost in thought for a moment as he studied the photograph she had chosen.

That was where the memory ended.

Back in the present, Bella tried to pull her gaze away from the shop window, only to see her reflection in the glass.

Hanging beyond the pane of glass was the wedding dress that had captured her attention, and for a fleeting instant, her own figure overlapped with it.

The soft curve of the waist and the flowing skirt created the illusion that she was wearing it herself. But the illusion faded quickly.

Her dark, lifeless hair, like exposed roots, and her plain, worn appearance were completely out of place beside a gown that seemed to hold light within its fabric.

Pushing aside this pointless fantasy, Bella tore her eyes away without hesitation and resumed walking.

As though the day she would wear such a dress would never come.

***

The moment she returned home, the landlord stopped her again.

“That man Jack Hunter called once more.”

Without thinking, Bella’s gaze drifted towards the telephone behind him.

He couldn’t even wait half a day before calling again. It startled her, although she had expected it to some extent. She had already sensed his temperament; the way he spoke, as though she were one of his prospective wives, revealed a possessive streak.

“If he calls again while I’m away, may I ask you to tell him not to contact me anymore?”

Bella chose her words as carefully and politely as possible.

Although she intended to refuse him, she wanted to be prepared in case he called again. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who would give up after one rejection.

Using the number on his calling card, she called and left a message saying she would soon be returning to Netherwell and he should not contact her again.

Although she had not yet received a reply from the Countess, she had already finished preparing to leave.

Even after she had made her refusal unmistakably clear, Jack’s attempts to reach her did not cease.

Sometimes he left brief messages. At others, he pressed for a response, his tone edged with something almost threatening. At other times, he called with casual familiarity, as though nothing had happened, saying he merely wished to meet and exchange greetings.

Each time, the landlord firmly cut him off and warned him not to call again.

But Jack refused to give up.

“Be careful. A man like that can come to your door. Keep your eyes open whenever you go out.”

At first, the landlord seemed openly annoyed. However, as Jack Hunter’s calls became more frequent, he seemed genuinely concerned for Bella’s safety and warned her.

In the capital, where crowds were large and incidents were common, it was a dangerous place for a young woman who had just arrived from the countryside.

“Yes. Thank you for your concern.”

Bella thanked him sincerely for his concern. At the same time, she felt guilty for causing him trouble by forcing him to deal with Jack Hunter’s incessant calls, despite her temporary stay.

Since she was planning to leave as soon as the countess replied, Bella decided to meet Joshua before returning to Netherwell.

She arrived at the café they had agreed on and an employee led her to a seat near the back.

After ordering a cup of black tea, she waited quietly for Joshua, her gaze drifting between the customers coming and going and the passing scenery beyond the window.

By the time the bottom of her teacup was visible, she glanced at her watch.

The appointed hour had long since passed.

Yet the seat opposite her remained empty.

‘He must be busy.’

After waiting for over an hour with no sign of Joshua, Bella stood up. It had not been easy for him to find the time, given his school commitments. She understood.

As she left the café, she strolled slowly through the bustling district, taking in the sights. Crowded streets. Couples passed by, laughing softly. The noise and movement brushed past her.

Then, among the people spilling onto the street, she spotted a familiar face.

Bella instinctively slipped behind a lamppost to hide.

‘Jack Hunter?’