“Just say I collapsed and you brought me home. Got it?”

“Yes, I understand.”

Looking up at Dylan who answered obediently, Clara relaxed her arms wrapped around his neck.

His broad embrace was honestly comfortable. Sitting side by side with him on horseback would probably provide a very comfortable backrest. Of course, there was no particular reason to ride together.

“Clara! What is this!”

Countess Brock, who had elegantly twisted up her brown hair, grabbed the hem of her dress and approached quickly.

“So there’s another Clara.”

He meant she was the spitting image of her mother. Clara burst into laughter at his expression.

“I’ve been told I’m the exact copy of my mother since childhood.”

“I can see why. It’s like looking at your future.”

Countess Brock’s eyes sparkled as she watched Dylan and Clara whispering to each other.

“Weren’t you coming from the farm?”

Countess Brock asked while keeping her gaze fixed on Dylan.

“Mother, about that—”

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Dylan Berkshire.”

Dylan greeted her with a respectful attitude.

“Berkshire? From the Berkshire family?”

A young man from another family had suddenly appeared carrying her daughter. Countess Brock was completely bewildered. She sent Clara a look demanding an immediate explanation.

“Yes, that’s right. I’m the second son of the Berkshire family.”

“Ah, the one who…… recently bought Willingham Riding Grounds?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my, how nice to meet you. Did my daughter cause you any trouble? Did something happen at the riding grounds?”

Countess Brock quickly found the connection between the two.

“Well, you see, she rode too—”

Clara started to speak but rolled her eyes around. It was obvious that Countess Brock wouldn’t easily believe she was simply injured while horseback riding.

It had been five years since she’d been injured while riding. Knowing how skillfully her daughter handled horses, her mother wouldn’t be fooled.

Clara was berating herself for not thinking through her excuse more carefully when—

“Miss Clara was teaching me how to ride and got slightly injured because of me. She fell while trying to calm a startled horse. I’m truly sorry.”

“I see……”

Countess Brock’s eyes quickly assessed her daughter’s condition. She appeared fine on the outside.

“I’m not hurt anywhere, I’m fine.”

Clara promptly said.

“Really? I wonder if my daughter has been impolite in some way.”

After checking her daughter’s expression from the corner of her eye, Countess Brock glanced at Dylan and stepped aside with an elegant gesture.

“I’ll guide you to Clara’s room, would you mind taking her there?”

“Yes, if you’ll excuse me.”

“This way, please.”

Seeing her mother’s expression, Clara exhaled a shallow sigh. It seemed she wouldn’t be able to avoid a scolding.

“When you’re not yet married, isn’t it somewhat inappropriate for a man and woman who barely know each other to be together at night?”

Countess Brock gently warned.

“I apologize, I should have contacted you beforehand……”

“Mother, it just happened that way.”

Dylan and Clara spoke simultaneously. Noticing her daughter’s protective attitude, Countess Brock’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“So…… how did you two get to know each other? Are you friends? Or……”

Countess Brock, who was climbing the stairs ahead of them, launched a surprise question. Clara took a deep breath.

“We’re not dating yet.”

Dylan answered in an affectionate tone tinged with amusement.

“Be quiet.”

Clara, cradled in his arms, warned him.

“Why? Mother must be curious about my thoughts too.”

“Who’s your mother?”

Clara drew the line first. But Dylan responded without the slightest intimidation.

“It’s still wishful thinking for now…… but it hurts when you reject me so firmly.”

Countess Brock’s thin eyebrows twitched as she listened to Clara and Dylan’s conversation. When her eyes met Dylan’s, she quickly composed her expression.

“As you can hear, it’s a one-sided relationship. I’ve been secretly in love with Clara for a long time, and currently, I’ve just had my engagement interview.”

Clara lightly pinched Dylan’s forearm.

“Interview?”

Countess Brock asked, not hiding her puzzlement. At that moment, Clara realized that her father hadn’t yet posted the announcement.

“Ah, I heard the news that he was going to post an announcement.”

Dylan spoke slowly with a smile.

Clara narrowed her eyes into triangles as she looked at Dylan. What excuse? He was spilling everything truthfully.

⁕⁕⁕

“Why would you say something like that? Are you really going to get engaged to me?”

Clara glared at Dylan as he looked around her room from where she lay on the bed.

“Yes, I wouldn’t have done what I did last night if I didn’t intend to.”

“No matter what, I haven’t given permission yet. How could you speak that way?”

“I apologize if you felt pressured. But I truly hope it happens.”

Dylan slowly approached the bedside.

Sunlight streaming through the large window illuminated the tall man. Clara swallowed dryly at the strange pressure emanating from his sturdy build.

Last night came back to her. The firm muscles hidden beneath his neat clothing……

“Clara, it’s difficult when you look at me like that.”

“How am I looking at you?”

“With a very appreciative gaze.”

Dylan, sitting on the edge of the bed, reached his hand toward Clara’s face.

“Lustfully.”

His long fingertips brushed the corner of her crimson lips.

“May I kiss you?”

“Even if I say no, you’ll just do it forcefully anyway, won’t you?”

Dylan let out a pleased laugh.

“If I can kiss you even if I get slapped, then I must.”

Smooch. His lips lightly touched hers and pulled away. It wasn’t the deep, devouring kiss from last night.

Clara drew in a short breath at the strange feeling of disappointment.

“……Why are you so aggressive?”

“I told you already.”

Dylan added quietly with a serious expression.

“That I’ve liked you for a long time, Miss Clara.”

Clara felt her insides flutter again. An unfamiliar feeling, but not an unpleasant one.

Just then, a maid’s voice was heard outside the door. Clara turned her head, naturally pulling away from Dylan’s hand.

“Come in.”

The door opened and the maid entered.

On the tray the maid brought in was Countess Brock’s most treasured teacup—according to her, an elegant, pretty, and beautiful high-quality cup engraved with grape clusters.

Dylan must be a precious guest to her mother. Clara pointed to the small table beside the bed.

“Emily, could you bring it over here?”

“Yes, of course.”

The maid placed the teapot and cups on the table and left. When the sound of the door closing was heard, Clara spoke.

“My mother doesn’t have any ill feelings. If you felt she was rude, I’ll apologize on her behalf.”

“Not at all. I think her reaction was perfectly appropriate.”

Dylan poured tea into the cup on behalf of Clara, who was leaning against the headboard. Clara stared at his actions, which seemed as familiar as if he were in his own home.

His movements were efficient and even graceful. He had the bearing of someone well-educated in proper etiquette. It was impossible to imagine he was the same man who had barged in asking for an interview while exposing his intimate parts.

“Do you like chamomile tea?”

Dylan handed the teacup to Clara.

“No, I prefer cold water the most.”

“That’s so like you, Miss Clara.”

Dylan nodded and took a sip of tea.

Clara stole a glance at him as he slightly closed his eyes, savoring the taste. For a man who had sent lustful gazes and committed rude acts, he looked incredibly harmless now. Like a docile horse, perhaps. Last night he had been more like an untamed wild horse.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Dylan slowly lifted his eyelids and met her gaze as he savored the tea. Had she been staring too obviously? Clara hastily brought the teacup to her lips and then pulled it away.

“Ah, I was just curious about what kind of tea you like.”

“I don’t particularly like tea either. If I must drink something, I usually choose wine.”

“I see. Then what were you drinking every day sitting on the riding grounds terrace?”

“White wine.”

“How much wine do you drink in a day?”

I hope he’s not a heavy drinker. Clara sipped her chamomile tea and cast a glance at Dylan.

“I haven’t really counted, but I think I drink quite a lot.”

“I see……”

“Should I quit?”

Dylan asked, seeming to notice the subtle change in her tone.

“No, there’s no need to go that far.”

“I won’t do anything you hate.”

“Why are you willing to go to such lengths?”

“Please take it as a sign of my sincerity.”

What a strange person. Clara couldn’t find a suitable response and just drank her tea.

“Could you spread your legs a bit?”

At those words, Clara spat out the tea she was drinking. He wants to do it again? Asking so boldly? Does this man listen to me at all?

“Are you alright?”

Dylan hurriedly placed the teacup on the side table and wiped away the tea with a handkerchief.

“Is s*x all you can think about?”

Clara snatched the handkerchief from Dylan’s hand and finished wiping her face.

“I was going to apply medicine. I heard applying medicine helps the swelling go down faster……”

“Ah, I’m sorry. I thought……”

Clara immediately apologized, feeling embarrassed.

“It’s alright. It’s true that when I see you, Clara, my head does fill with those thoughts.”

Is this man really a beast? Clara raised her gaze again.

“It’s difficult to apply it yourself, and I wanted to do it personally. After all, I’m the one who caused the injury.”