The next day and the day after that, her routine remained unchanged.

She washed the day’s laundry, hung it out to dry in the breeze, carefully folded the sheets once dry and stacked them neatly to one side. The work of at least three maids fell entirely upon her shoulders. From morning until evening, she moved without ever fully straightening her back.

As she returned from hanging out the washing, she rubbed her aching wrist, which had begun to throb after only a few days of relentless labor.

A faint bruise still lingered there — the mark left by the duke when he had seized her wrist days earlier.

She had feared she might run into him again in the rear garden.

Fortunately, she had not seen him since that day.

‘I suppose I should be relieved.’

Her gaze drifted to the spot where she had first crossed paths with him.

Although she hadn’t seen him since then, she noticed that the ground in one particular spot had become worn, as if someone frequented it to smoke.

However secluded the rear garden might be, there was only one person on the estate who would smoke there.

The Duke of Fraser — the only smoker.

‘Perhaps I should ask the head maid if my work area can be changed.’

Unfortunately, the route from the laundry room to where she hung out the washing took her straight past the spot where he stood.

She always scanned her surroundings carefully, determined not to cross his path by accident. However, she could not promise that an incident like the last one would never happen again.

She did not know when the guest would leave.

For now, her only option was to avoid him.

“Ha…”

She let out a long sigh and wrapped her handkerchief tightly over the yellowing bruise.

***

As they walked towards the rear garden, Vincent carried on talking to Logan as if they had never shared a moment of silence. As always, Logan’s replies were brief and reserved.

It was clear that he was a lawyer — Vincent never seemed to stop talking, even outside of work.

Logan considered telling him to be quiet. But if he did, Vincent would surely sulk and complain for the rest of their stay. So instead, Logan said nothing.

“There’s a nobleman called Count Denver who owns land near Ron Harbor. The location is excellent. But the old man is as stubborn as hell. His children want to sell, but he refuses to let them. He’s attending the party this time, so maybe you could try persuading him. Ah! I left my lighter behind.”

With the tip of his cigarette resting between his lips, Vincent searched his pockets and frowned.

“Careless as ever.”

Remembering the day he himself had left his lighter behind, Logan handed his own to Vincent.

‘Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her since that day.’

His thoughts naturally turned to the maid he had encountered by chance here.

Although he had visited the rear garden several times during his stay, he had not seen her again since that first day.

Not that he would have had anything particular to say if they had met.

Nevertheless, each time he came here, his gaze would unconsciously follow the path down which she had disappeared.

He could not forget the way she had looked up at him with her innocent eyes.

“Oh?”

Vincent followed Logan’s gaze and let out a quiet sound of recognition.

Someone was approaching the rear garden.

It was a woman wearing a plain, colorless maid’s uniform and sporting long, slightly unkempt hair. There was nothing particularly striking about her appearance, yet her innocent face held one’s attention.

It was her.

At the sound of Vincent’s voice, the maid lifted her head.

The instant she saw the two men standing side by side, she turned sharply, as if to flee.

But Vincent’s reflexes were quicker than her attempt to escape.

“It’s been a while. Have you been well?”

“A-Ah… hello, Young Master Vincent, and… Your Grace, the Duke of Fraser.”

Unable to ignore the young master who had greeted her so warmly, the maid slowed her pace and went over to him.

Just as before, she was carrying a large basket of dried laundry. She carefully put it down and bowed to the two men.

“I haven’t seen you around lately, so I thought you might be visiting your grandmother again. I’ve only just returned to Rosedale after a long time away, and I was worried that I wouldn’t get the chance to see you again. I’m glad I did!”

“The madam has gone to the villa in Headwork to recuperate, so I’ve been helping to manage the estate in her absence. My lady’s birthday month is always especially busy.”

She forced a small smile, carefully hiding her unease.

She hadn’t seen Young Master Vincent much since he left the estate early to study. Even so, of all the people on the estate, he was perhaps the only one with whom she felt even a faint sense of familiarity.

She could not ignore his kindness.

Deliberately turning away from the sharp, piercing gaze she felt on her, she continued speaking to Vincent.

“You’re just the same. Though you look a little thinner, perhaps?”

“I’m always the same. You, Young Master… seem to have changed a little.”

Except when she greeted him, her eyes had remained fixed on Vincent.

Now, her gaze fell upon his hand.

White smoke curled upwards from the cigarette perched between his fingers.

“I thought you didn’t smoke.”

“Haha—working in the capital, you know…”

Vincent gave an awkward laugh and hid the hand she had noticed behind his back.

As if that were not enough, he ground the cigarette b*tt beneath his heel.

“They say smoking is bad for one’s health, but I’ve heard that gentlemen sometimes have no choice—it’s necessary for social connections.”

“I suppose that’s true. I don’t smoke much either. I only stepped out for a moment because of work. Isn’t that right?”

Vincent turned towards Logan as smoothly as water flowing downstream.

It was as though he was suggesting that the reason for smoking lay with him.

Logan raised an eyebrow at this transparent excuse. When Vincent caught his eye, he brushed it off with a grin and turned back to the maid.

“You were working just now, weren’t you? I hope we’re not keeping the busiest person here waiting.”

“Not at all. I’m more worried that I might be disturbing you both and wasting your valuable time.”

“No, no. It’s just nice to see you again after so long.”

“Then… may I take my leave?”

“Of course. We’ll see each other again.”

Just as she had done when they first arrived, the maid bowed deeply. Then, lifting the heavy basket, she disappeared down the path.

Logan, who had been watching the scene unfold in silence, crushed the cigarette b*tt in the metal case before taking out and lighting another cigarette.

“You seem rather close.”

His voice was low as he struck the flame.

“We grew up together in the estate. We’re about the same age, so we used to play often. Though, to be honest, I was the one who teased her.”

“When you were children?”

“Until I left for boarding school.”

“Were her parents servants here?”

“No, my mother brought her back from an orphanage. She was supposed to stay at my grandmother’s house, but I insisted she stay here instead. However, when I left for the capital, she went back to my grandmother’s.”

“I see.”

Logan exhaled a thin stream of white smoke, and for a moment the image of another girl flashed through his mind.

It couldn’t be her.

But what exactly was he hoping for?

As the maid spoke easily with Vincent, Logan found himself wishing she would glance at him, even once.

The way she reacted to him — so distant and unlike the natural ease she showed with Vincent — stirred something in him that felt dangerously close to jealousy.

It was absurd.

She was just a maid in the Count’s household. Of course she would be more familiar with Vincent than with him.

‘Jealousy.’

The thought was so absurd that he couldn’t help but laugh hollowly.

She was just a maid

A woman he had met by chance. Yet, once he had fixed his attention on her, she refused to fade from his mind.

In fact, during the days when he hadn’t seen her, her presence had grown stronger, quietly and persistently, fueling his curiosity.

Her reddened hands.

The way her cheeks had grown hollow in just a few days.

Perhaps that was what unsettled him.

“That maid.”

“Hmm?”

“I want her assigned as my personal attendant.”