Chapter 19 

Hystein was moving away. Rosalie grew anxious.

“Ah, alright. Don’t get mad. I’ll do as you say.”

Had something happened between Gérard and Hystein? As she hurried to get out of bed, Hystein turned to look at her.

Only then did his stiff expression soften. He approached the bed and gently stroked her cheek with his thumb.

“Let’s talk again tomorrow. It’s late now.”

His gaze softened considerably as he looked down at her. Rosalie, swept up in an indescribable feeling of bliss, simply nodded like an obedient child.

Hystein soon left the bedroom.

Not long after, Bibi returned and handed her a mug filled with a sweet aroma. It was a hot drink topped with marshmallows and thin slices of chocolate.

“Mmm…”

The taste was so rich it made her eyes pop. At home, even tea had to be steeped several times. This luxurious flavor, with no skimping on ingredients, was a rare treat.

She drank without thinking, focusing only on the taste, then set the mug down. Sleepiness returned, and she yawned and lay down.

She drifted easily into sleep, and when she woke, it was early morning.

***

As soon as Rosalie regained her senses, she felt noticeably lighter. Today, she really had to go back and reassure Gérard and Angela.

She got out of bed and stood by the window, basking in the warm sunlight as she admired the lush garden of the ducal residence.

A carriage stopped at the entrance of the mansion in the distance. At that moment, swish.

“Excuse me.”

Suddenly, the curtains were drawn shut and Bibi, who she hadn’t noticed entering, bowed her head hurriedly.

“My Lady, you still need to rest. Please, return to bed.”

“No, I’m fine now.”

“It only feels that way for a moment, My Lady. Please, I beg you. If you stay here, I’ll be scolded.”

Bibi’s face showed clear distress as she pleaded. Rosalie reluctantly stepped back toward the bed, then changed direction.

They’d been subtly steering her like this since yesterday.

“Bibi, I’ll go tell Hystein myself that I’m well. So, could you give me some clothes to change into?”

Hystein was a bachelor, so there probably weren’t any women’s clothes in the mansion. Then again, given his rumored affairs with Inès, maybe there were.

She felt a flash of jealous anger, but soon remembered Inès’s death and felt ashamed and sorry. Awkwardly, she pointed at the wardrobe.

Bibi, as if she’d heard something she shouldn’t, was startled and quickly stepped to the door. She avoided Rosalie’s gaze, clasped her hands and bowed her head.

“I-I’m sorry… Miss Rosalie, you cannot leave this room. It’s the master’s order.”

***

29 hours earlier.

After hearing the news of Rosalie’s disappearance at the clubhouse, Gérard frantically searched for her with Marquis Lamon, then ran into a policeman who had come looking for him.

The policeman explained that the maid attacked by the suspect had been taken to the hospital, and that Angela was trembling in fear.

“We’ve sent out a search party, so don’t worry about Miss Rosalie. It might be better to reassure your wife, who’s alone.”

“Yes, Gérard. I’ll make sure to bring Miss Rosalie back.”

Accepting the advice of the policeman and Marquis Lamon, Gérard hurried back to the townhouse. Angela, surrounded by policemen, clung to Theo, trembling.

“Oh, Dear! Why did you only just come home? Rosalie, where is Rosalie?”

“We’re still looking for her. But you must have been so frightened. I shouldn’t have gone out today…”

“Enough, who could have expected this? I was so scared earlier.”

Angela burst into tears as soon as she saw Gérard. On the hallway wall by the entrance, the maid’s bloodstains still hadn’t been fully cleaned. Gérard listened to the policemen’s explanations in silence.

The maid had suffered injuries requiring six weeks of recovery. If the suspect wasn’t caught, the Malève family would have to cover all medical expenses.

What should he do? With no maid to work starting tomorrow, he’d have to go to the employment office himself at sunrise. The nanny wouldn’t return until the afternoon.

But could he see Rosalie again before morning?

Gérard tried not to imagine the worst. All the women caught by that man had died with one side of their faces ruined. If Rosalie were found in such a terrible state…

“No, Rosalie will be alive. Right, Dear? It’s all my fault. If only I’d been home…”

Gérard’s eyes reddened. He and Angela hugged each other, praying for Rosalie’s safety. They ignored the policeman’s suggestion to rest.

About three hours passed.

“Sir! Please come out for a moment!”

A rookie policeman burst into the townhouse, panting. Angela and Gérard looked at each other, their faces stiff from dried tears.

Soon, the officer who’d gone out at the rookie’s request returned.

“I’m not sure how to tell you…”

He spoke with difficulty, his voice full of regret.

“They’ve found a man, presumed to be the suspect, at a mill on the outskirts of Rodin. He’s still breathing, but was beaten so badly he hasn’t regained consciousness.”

“That’s not important! What about our Rosalie?”

“A handful of red hair was found, so it seems Miss Rosalie was there, but when we arrived, only the suspect was present.”

“D*mn! What does that mean? Is Rosalie already dead, d-dead, she couldn’t be…”

“No! That’s impossible! We’ll do everything to bring her back safely.”

The officer went out again to confer with his colleagues. Gérard and Angela spent the night wide awake.

When morning came and sunlight filled the living room, the policemen withdrew and Countess Aloua and Jeremy arrived in a rush.

“We heard the news! What happened? How could Miss Rosalie…”

Countess Aloua looked gaunt, as if she’d aged overnight. It was understandable, since the woman she’d hoped would become her son’s wife had disappeared.

But surely they looked even worse. Gérard sighed deeply as he supported the staggering Countess and watched Jeremy drop his cane.

The young man, always a bit awkward, had dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept at all.

“All night… since Miss Rosalie disappeared at midnight until now. Eight hours with no trace?”

Jeremy, struggling to help his mother, retrieved the cane from the sofa. Seeing Gérard barely able to stand, Jeremy spoke.

“That’s right. There were male and female footprints nearby, and the police believe the woman’s were Rosalie’s. The sizes match. But first, please sit.”

“I-I’m fine. But why is there still no news?”

“It rained all night. The footprints weren’t clear enough to track. The traces were all washed away.”

“Were the man’s footprints the kidnapper’s?”

Jeremy, unusually, met Gérard’s gaze directly. Normally, he’d look away in fear even when greeting him, so Gérard was a bit surprised.

“We can’t be sure. The police are considering the possibility of an accomplice.”

“But thinking of an accomplice now doesn’t make sense…”

Jeremy muttered, lost in his own thoughts. Countess Aloua sat on the sofa, drinking tea Angela had brought.

“I’ll send the Earldom’s private soldiers. I want to see Miss Rosalie as soon as possible. I hope that monster hasn’t done anything unspeakable to her.”

“There were no signs of that at the scene! Neither Inès nor Countess Marti showed any signs of being assaulted.”

Gérard was grateful for the Countess’s offer of private soldiers, but had to suppress his anger at her concerns about Rosalie’s chastity.

He knew he couldn’t rebuke her for such words.

“…Was that man at the clubhouse too?”

As Gérard clenched his fist and swallowed hard, Jeremy, who had been leaning against the wall lost in thought, raised his pale blue eyes.