Chapter 27

“…Who are you?”

“I am Thiago Salto, Your Grace.”

Thiago’s introduction was excessively brief. There was a subtle smile at the corner of his lips, making Clarette’s heart uneasy.

However, Duke Valentin spoke to him with a relaxed demeanor.

“Sorry, but I can’t recall your name by itself. Did you receive your invitation from the Bouvier Gallery, not from me?”

“Yes, that’s correct. I am just a humble painter, so it’s only natural that don’t know me, Your Grace. Besides, Clarette probably never mentioned me.”

At his meaningful words, the Duke’s eyebrows twitched slightly.

Thiago quietly watched Duke Valentin’s reaction, then slowly began to move. Before leaving the studio, he looked back at Clarette.

“My offer stands, Clarette. If you change your mind, contact me anytime. I’ll be waiting.”

Duke Valentin did not stop Thiago, nor did he demand an explanation.

It wasn’t because he wasn’t curious. Clarette realized instantly, as soon as their eyes met, that it was a matter of pride.

“Is that man a fellow painter of yours?”

Thiago couldn’t be defined simply as a colleague. When Clarette hesitated to answer, the Duke quietly added,

“Or perhaps, an old flame?”

Even calling him an old flame felt ambiguous. Thiago had never been her lover. But to remain silent on this question felt cowardly, so she explained honestly.

“He’s someone I used to like.”

She said it matter-of-factly, but for some reason, she felt embarrassed to look up and meet the Duke’s gaze directly. She avoided his eyes and hurried toward the door.

“Let’s return to the auction hall now, Your Grace. You shouldn’t be away from your seat for too long.”

“Wait.”

Just as Clarette was about to pass through the door and walk past the Duke, he suddenly grabbed her arm, stopping her.

“What…?”

When Clarette looked up in surprise, the Duke naturally moved behind her. While she glanced back, his fingertips gently touched the center of her back.

To the spot covered by her dress, where he couldn’t possibly touch her skin…

“Ah.”

Clarette belatedly remembered loosening the strings of her dress in the first-floor corridor. The fabric had slipped down, exposing her bare back and making it easier to breathe. She had completely forgotten, distracted by Thiago’s sudden appearance.

She had spoken with Thiago in that state.

With the door locked, just the two of them in the enclosed room.

“Your Grace, this is…”

“Don’t turn around. Just stay still. There’s no need to call a maid for this.”

The Duke began tightening the dress strings so her back would no longer be exposed. It was something Lionel had never done before, so his movements were somewhat slow, but he was careful and focused.

“Cough!”

Lionel accidentally pulled the strings too tightly for a moment, making Clarette cough. He loosened them to make her comfortable, then continued working. The slow sound of strings and fabric brushing together tickled her ears.

As she felt his hands moving over the fabric, Clarette awkwardly tried to explain.

“Your Grace, it might sound silly, but… nothing happened here, truly. I loosened the dress myself because I was uncomfortable, and Thiago had nothing to do with it…”

“Clarette.”

The Duke interrupted her with a low voice. She wondered what kind of expression he was making, but Clarette couldn’t turn around. Only the Duke’s voice continued from behind her.

“That man, right? Your father’s apprentice, the painter who made your portrait, Thiago Salto.”

“Yes.”

“As I expected. I had a feeling it would be him. Talented people always seem impressive, no matter who looks at them. Even more so if they’re of the opposite s*x.”

The Duke seemed to be dwelling on her admission that she had liked Thiago. Clarette felt a sudden anxiety and parted her lips, but the Duke, as always, continued asking about Thiago in his calm tone.

“When was that painting in the Rosenta Art Museum made? As far as I know, you’ve lived alone for three years. So it must have been painted before that?”

“Yes. Five years ago… I was twenty, and Thiago was twenty-three.”

“In the atelier? Since you were the model, there must have been many spectators.”

“No. The atelier was too crowded, so we painted it in my room.”

At her answer, the Duke’s hands paused. He was clearly picturing the scene. After a moment, he murmured in wonder.

“Your father let that happen? He must have really trusted his apprentice.”

There was no need to mention that her father had considered Thiago as a future son-in-law. But the perceptive Duke might have already reached that conclusion.

Worried he might misunderstand, Clarette blurted out,

“Your Grace, I don’t like Thiago anymore.”

His hands, which had been moving behind her, stopped completely. Perhaps her dress was now fixed. But since he didn’t say anything, Clarette stared straight ahead, organizing her thoughts.

Thiago, whom she’d met again, was still just as confident, self-centered, and cold as before. He still seemed to attract everyone’s admiration, just like the boy she had liked as a child.

But unlike Thiago, Clarette had changed. She still admired his art and respected his talent, but his cold nature no longer seemed appealing.

She wanted to be beside someone warmer, kinder, someone who could understand and support her worries.

For example, someone like Duke Valentin…

“It’s done.”

He finally removed his hands from her back. Clarette slowly turned around.

Duke Valentin was standing much closer than she’d expected, looking down at her. When she turned, their faces nearly touched.

He gazed quietly into her green eyes, which rarely avoided his, and spoke.

“Clarette, come here after the party.”

“Pardon?”

“Here, to your studio.”

Lionel glanced toward the still-open studio. As his eyes lingered on the empty easel and the chair in front of it, Clarette realized what he intended.

There was no playfulness in his expression. Nervous, Clarette murmured,

“But you still haven’t told me what you want in return for modeling…”

“I’ll tell you what I want.”

He gently closed the studio door. With a faint smile, Lionel’s low voice reached her.

“Tonight.”

* * *

Richard Crowley was thoroughly familiar with every part of Duke Valentin’s mansion. He knew the locations of all the rooms and staircases in both the main building and the annex, and even the secret spots in the garden and rear grounds.

That’s why, even now with so many guests filling the mansion, he could relax and smoke a cigar in a hidden corner of the rear garden that no one else could find.

With the beautiful Marian Belvard beside him.

“Thank you, Earl. Thanks to you, I was able to talk with Duke Valentin for a long time. I also got a rough sense of his personality.”

At Marian’s words, Richard smiled, enjoying the mild scent of his cigar.

In the empty spot in the rear garden, hidden by high walls, were old chairs that didn’t seem fit for guests. It was the perfect place for secret plotting.

“So, have you reached a conclusion? About what to do with the Valentin Duchy’s business?”

“I’m still thinking. By the way, does Duke Valentin have a fiancée?”

“No. I don’t think there’s even been any serious talk of marriage.”

“Really? That’s good, then—there’s still a chance.”

“Do you like him?”

“Yes, in several ways.”

“What ways?”

“Well, his looks, for one. He’s my type. Not that anyone wouldn’t like him. I prefer big men.”

Richard chuckled and glanced toward the annex. As he’d expected, Lionel was the center of attention for many women. He had thought that, left alone, Lionel would inevitably get tangled up in some romantic scandal.

Yet his cousin was somehow navigating social life without any trouble. The only remotely controversial thing was hiring the famous ‘Flower in a Frame’ as the resident artist.

‘But even that isn’t enough to cause a scandal.’