19.
“Excuse me for a moment, madam.”
Standing outside the carriage, Ash swept Nina up in his arms like a princess.
“Ah…!”
Startled, she clutched at his shoulders.
His thick, solid arms wrapped firmly around her thighs, the broad muscles of his shoulders brushing against her palms.
Through the fabric, the heat of his body seared into her—enough to fluster her for a moment.
“P-put me down.”
Flustered, Nina squirmed, pressing against his shoulder in protest.
She had expected perhaps a polite escort, but this—this was practically a grand, over-the-top gesture.
“Don’t get the wrong idea.
Only until you recover.”
His expression was stiff, as if the entire situation displeased him, even as he carried her forward.
Romantic behavior, paired with words and a face that were anything but.
If that was the case, why not just let her walk on her own?
“I never asked you to carry me!
Who told you to do something I didn’t even ask for?”
Nina shot him a look of sheer disbelief, her expression nothing short of exasperated.
“So what, did you save me because I asked you to?”
“No, that’s not—!”
How was that any different?
“I don’t want to be left feeling indebted to you.”
So that was his intention—and he thought this would settle the score?
On second thought, maybe that wasn’t so bad.
After all, wasn’t that as good as an admission that he felt indebted to her?
This from the man who once couldn’t stand to brush shoulders with me.
She knew she shouldn’t take comfort in a kindness that would vanish the moment her leg healed.
But if he was paying this much attention, maybe—just maybe—there was a chance their relationship could improve.
Should I use my injured leg as an excuse… and build at least some sort of attachment between us?
People always said that grudges and physical closeness were frighteningly powerful ties.
Nina spun through countless “what-if” scenarios in her mind.
No… if I tried that, it would only look like I was using the rescue as an excuse to cling to him.
Whichever way she ran the simulation, it all ended in a bad ending.
So, cleanly, she gave up the thought.
***
The Count of Athelott’s estate, his study.
The count paced the length of the room, his expression grave.
Something unthinkable had happened.
When his nephew’s wife had rejected his proposal, he had been certain she would soon regret it.
Her relentless obsession was well known throughout society.
So too was the discord that had plagued their marriage for two years.
And yet—there were signs the relationship was beginning to change.
She had thrown herself, body and all, to save Ash.
He had attended the Duke of Grenville’s birthday celebration only to approach the Duke and Duchess of Taylor.
Who could have foreseen that he would witness such a scene?
“Should’ve just let him die right there, damn it.”
No matter how he thought about it, it galled him.
If Ash had died on the spot, the family would have passed to Ian, and he himself would have become the boy’s guardian—free to pull the strings of the Bayern house at will.
To watch such a stroke of luck slip away before his eyes—to seize both Ian’s inheritance and the Bayern house at once—made his stomach churn with frustration.
He had planned to persuade the Duke and Duchess of Taylor to make Nina write a statement for him, but if the two of them were growing closer, that plan would be impossible.
His fallback plan was no longer a fallback.
What in the world was he supposed to do now?
The most crucial piece in his scheme had always been his nephew’s wife.
What method should I use…?
As he stroked his chin, lost in thought, a spark flashed through the Count of Athelott’s mind.
Wasn’t his great-nephew about the same age as Ian?
I heard he’s at the academy, too…
The Count pulled a sheet of stationery from his desk and began scribbling furiously.
“Charles, send this to the House of Wulverny.”
If he couldn’t unsettle the guardian, then he would unsettle the ward.
He had no intention of giving up the diamond mine and the vast lands his great-nephew would inherit.
How could he possibly relinquish that fortune?
With that kind of money, the dream of elevating his countship to a marquisate wouldn’t be so far-fetched.
The Count of Athelott’s eyes gleamed with a viscous, greedy light.
***
Since Nina had been carried into the mansion like a princess,
the servants’ attitudes toward her had shifted in a curious way.
It wasn’t only because she had improved their working conditions and provided them with uniforms—word had spread that at the Duke of Grenville’s estate, she had thrown herself in harm’s way to save Ash.
Turns out, the madam isn’t quite the wretch we all thought she was.
That was the kind of talk circulating now.
It was a relief that her reputation had improved, but every time she overheard people whispering about her as though she were some sort of heroine, her cheeks burned with embarrassment.
On the doctor’s orders, she was to avoid walking for the time being.
So that morning she was eating breakfast in bed, the daily paper open in her hands,
“Milady, these are for you.”
when Marsha arrived carrying a silver tray piled high with letters.
“Letters?”
Could there be one from her parents among them?
Neville had promised to tell their parents that she was truly reflecting on her actions.
With that in mind, Nina had secretly been hoping for a letter from them, her face bright with expectation as she accepted the silver tray.
But contrary to her hopes, there was no letter from her parents.
Most were simple inquiries after her health or invitations to social gatherings.
Well… it’s only been a few days.
Hardly enough time for a letter to arrive.
Swallowing a bitter smile, Nina slit open several envelopes and skimmed through their contents.
They were from the acquaintances she had kept before her reputation collapsed—before she had gone about committing one reckless scandal after another.
How quick they are to shift their allegiances.
It seemed the events at the Duke of Grenville’s birthday celebration had already spread far and wide.
Some were clearly trying to secure a connection in advance, or at least test the waters.
If the couple reconciled and produced an heir, the hierarchy of society itself would shift.
Honestly… what’s the point of courting favor with me?
I’m on a one-year time limit anyway.
Such a waste of effort.
Clicking her tongue in sympathy for their pointless schemes, Nina dismissed the thought.
Just then—
“Milady, come to think of it, you’ll need to go to the capital soon, won’t you?”
“The capital?”
Lost in thought, Nina lifted her head at Marsha’s words.
“The charity event is in a month and a half.
This time, when will you be departing?
You’ll be leaving with the duke, won’t you…?”
At Marsha’s cautious question, Nina’s gaze grew suddenly serious.
In her past life, her husband had claimed urgent business and gone up to the capital ahead of her.
She could still vividly remember how she had raged, demanding if he thought it was something to brag about—that he hadn’t departed with his wife because their marriage was broken.
Back then she had assumed the “urgent business” was nothing but an excuse…
But no—there really had been a problem.
All the ingredients for the event had needed to be replaced.
Fortunately, he had managed to salvage the situation to some degree.
But on that day, she herself had grabbed the Duchess of Nod by the hair, and His Majesty the Emperor’s disappointment had been beyond words.
“Do you have any idea how important this day is, which comes only twice a year?”
“…….”
“And yet, Duke of Bayern, you let the storage be so poorly managed that the toil and devotion of farmers went to waste.
And you, Duchess—setting such an example by brawling in public…”
Her husband’s mistake had, at least, been managed in the end—disappointing, yes, but forgivable.
Thanks to her, however, he had been scolded alongside her by His Majesty.
To call it a scolding was putting it lightly.
Because of that disgrace, her husband had been stripped of his voice at the imperial council for a time, forced into humiliating silence.
…So it really was my fault.
This time, no matter what nonsense the Duchess of Nod tried to pull, Nina resolved she would endure it quietly.
Nodding in self-reflection, she spoke aloud,
“Well, unless something comes up, we’ll depart together.”
Of course, she knew he would head to the capital ahead of her anyway.
“Milady, what about your attire?
I think it might be better to choose something other than what you picked out last time…”
“I was thinking the same thing.”
In her past life, she had gone dressed as if she were on a casual outing, flaunting her disregard for others’ eyes.
And the result had been—
“Duchess, isn’t it uncomfortable to move around in that dress?
The fabric looks terribly expensive… what if it gets ruined while you’re working?”
“We’ll take care of everything, so please, madam, just sit and rest over there.”
Back then, when the ladies flashed their coquettish smiles and fawned over her, she had basked in the sense of superiority and done exactly as they said—rested comfortably.
Even if her husband ignored her, she had thought it only natural that others should bow and scrape before her, the precious daughter of the Taylors and Duchess of Bayern, and that menial tasks were, of course, beneath her station.
But in the end, that indulgence came back to poison her.