----------------------------------------------------------------- Translator: Harry Potta Chapter: 16 Chapter Title: Resolve to Destroy ----------------------------------------------------------------- Due to the foul weather, darkness fell early over Great Hill, lending it an eerie air. Diane, who had been staring do...
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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Resolve to Destroy
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Due to the foul weather, darkness fell early over Great Hill, lending it an eerie air.
Diane, who had been staring down at Johann's shoe tips, slowly lifted her head.
He hadn't spared it a single glance when it had been hanging there.
What a truly strange man. Of course, that was part of Duke Johann Leopold's charm.
With no other choice, she resorted to an extreme measure.
"It's a painting by that artist."
His straight eyebrows rose slightly, as if asking who.
"Andrea Nikolai. The one I mentioned before."
The painter she'd mentioned before...
Johann narrowed his brow and stared at the spot where Olivia's portrait had hung. In its place, the Duke of Edinburgh seemed to gaze down with dignified authority, as if saying, What an idiot.
"Ah. That painter."
One of the names he'd brushed off—anything but Edgar Langcaster Lancelot.
About three months after the wedding, perhaps. He'd clicked his tongue at the bare walls of the empty Great Hill, home to the Leopold ducal family with no storied history, and it had been the painter recommended by the crown prince.
Top graduate of the Royal Academy of Art, winner of the grand prize at the salon exhibition—a capable artist, he'd been told.
It didn't matter who. Such a hassle. He'd left it all to Morris.
He'd simply commissioned three paintings and received a report that the artist had stayed in the annex for five months to complete them.
Johann slowly turned from the spot his eyes had been rubbing, chasing Olivia's afterimage, and glared at his own portrait.
He recalled the face of the man who had painted him.
He remembered a delicate, refined appearance, like some scholarly type who knew only art. He'd judged the finished work and thought the man had skill.
For five months in the annex...
Ha! Johann scoffed.
What an utter fool he was.
"Those things."
His gaze flicked to the paintings with clear annoyance.
"Get rid of them all."
Johann turned back with an expression devoid of emotion and ascended the stairs toward his study.
The broad leaves of the decorative tropical plant in the corner of the landing cast shadows that seemed to snag at his ankles.
'I love you.'
A hollow emptiness washed over him.
His wife's 'I love you' might not have been meant for him at all.
A woman sold into the filthy trap laid by his great-uncle for money. From Olivia's perspective, he was nothing more than a buyer who'd picked up damaged goods to secure a title.
So there was no reason at all for her to love him.
Shortly after the minor uproar over the portraits, Morris summoned Diane Brooke to his office.
"Have a seat."
Was there anyone who could perfectly mask their expressions? If anyone, it had to be Diane Brooke, Morris thought as he watched her settle into the chair opposite.
Whether she knew she'd overstepped or not, her attitude was brazen, acting as if nothing had happened.
Even when the duchess had been in residence, she'd always behaved like the lady of the house in her stead—a sight that had grated on him from the start.
"I called you here to confirm a few things."
"Go ahead."
"That day. The day of the lake incident."
Diane looked at Morris with a surprised expression.
"Why bring up that day all of a sudden?"
"Could you tell me your schedule that day, in chronological order?"
Diane forced the tension from her face and asked calmly.
"It's not hard to recount, but... this is sudden. Is something wrong?"
"The duke knows."
"His Grace?"
Morris nodded.
"That's odd. Why show interest in that day now, of all times?"
Her eyes drifted down slowly, as if reminiscing, but Diane's heart raced. Before her eyes unfolded the dark lakeside. The air grew heavy. The mist over the lake felt damp.
Olivia had no idea. The resolve Diane had formed upon seeing the ducal secretary recruitment notice in the newspaper.
To destroy her.
Thoroughly, perfectly.
"...It rained from the morning that day."
Diane began her account slowly.
"A carriage skidded on the wet road and blocked traffic, so I was about thirty minutes late. It was my first time being late since starting at the ducal residence, so I remember it clearly. But otherwise, it was just an ordinary day. For the madam too."
Diane went through her story methodically, while Morris took notes in his pad and occasionally glanced at her.
"When I arrived, there were two letters for the madam. One was a greeting from her family earldom, and the other had no sender, so I don't know. If I recall, she got upset after reading it."
"Any guesses who it might be from?"
"Of course. But for the lady's honor, please don't ask further. It's just my guess. My thoughts don't matter, do they?"
It was a pointed reference to Olivia's lover. Morris, sharp as he was, wouldn't miss it.
"It wasn't the first time something like that happened, so I didn't pay it much mind."
"Letters with no sender?"
"Yes. Two or three times before."
Diane had steered it so he'd assume they were farewell letters from lovers. She had a remarkable talent for twisting any situation to her advantage.
"She skipped lunch, so I brought food up and she seemed to be crying. Not a good look, so I didn't go in and just left."
"Is that letter still around by any chance?"
"No. She burned it."
"I see..."
Morris trailed off with a regretful look.
"She stayed in her bedroom, then called for me. When I went up, she said she needed to get a summer dress fitted."
"Was she alone in the bedroom?"
"With a maid."
"Anything unusual?"
"She was always so emotionally volatile, so nothing struck me as odd. You know how she was."
"Is that maid the one who went with the madam now?"
"Yes. Name was Anne, I think."
"When did Madam Gabriel arrive?"
"Around three. She looked through the new catalog, picked a dress, noted the madam had slimmed down a bit since last time, retook measurements, and left just before five, I believe."
Hmm. Morris hummed, rubbing his temple with the end of his fountain pen.
"Then the incident happened three hours later... What were you doing in the meantime, Miss Brooke?"
"As I said then, I was organizing ledgers in the office and left just before six."
"So you don't know the madam's movements after that."
"Unfortunately. I should have stayed..."
Diane furrowed her brows like someone full of self-reproach.
"She usually stays overnight at the estate when it rains. Like a few days ago."
"Of course. But I had to go to my family home that day."
Silence fell between them for a moment. Morris peered at his notes. The more he delved into the incident, the more suspicious points piled up.
"Doesn't that strike you as strange?"
Diane swallowed dryly and forced herself to ask back.
"What's strange?"
"That someone about to commit suicide would get clothes fitted."
That was Morris's common sense. He suspected that's what bothered the duke enough to order the investigation. It was a perfectly natural reaction.
"Maybe she got the urge to die after getting fitted. She was always so unpredictable, after all. The duchess."
Diane said it dismissively, with a subtle mocking undertone.
Yes. That's why I never liked this woman. Morris realized anew and pressed on with the next question.
"A few days after the incident, one of the maids quit. Do you know anything about her?"
One of the assistant maids helping head cook Mrs. Hanna in the kitchen, apparently.
"She vanished in the night, right? The maids said she was pregnant. Happens all the time, doesn't it?"
Servants often fell for each other. Most settled down, but if the partner was married, maids like that would bolt now and then.
"Hoo..."
Morris let out a long sigh.
He'd spoken to the butler chief, the head maid, and now the duchess's secretary since starting the investigation, but nothing substantial had come up.
"You may go."
Diane rose. As she turned to leave, Morris spoke.
"Delight, is it?"
Diane turned to look at him.
"The perfume."
"Yes, that's right. How did you know?"
Morris didn't miss how the woman imitating an elegant duchess flinched.
"I picked it out as a birthday gift for the duchess. Department store clerk recommended it."
"..."
"The duke is always so busy."
Morris gave her a small smile.
Diane returned the smile, bid farewell, and left the office. She walked the corridor with her back straight and poised steps.
Once inside her room, her face flushed crimson in an instant. Diane stomped to her vanity with heavy steps and hurled the blue bottle into the trash.
Madam Lauren burst in again with the completed dress. It was around five in the afternoon, an hour before the ball.
"My goodness! Eve Lauren!"
Elaine sighed in rapture.
On the bed lay the green dress neatly arranged, its waist adornments scattering iridescent light in the fading sunset glow.
Olivia, who had requested a simple silhouette with minimal exposure, eyed the dress with some embarrassment. For some reason, communication with the designer seemed to have gone slightly awry.
"What are you waiting for? Hurry and try it on. We'll be late."
Elaine, already dressed and present, signaled to Marie and Anne.
"But..."
"Come on, now."
Elaine grabbed the hesitating Olivia's arm with formidable resolve and handed her off to Anne.
A short while later, Olivia emerged from the dressing room.
Indeed.
Admiration rose from all around. The dress was perfection itself.
In the golden sunlight, Olivia's figure was dazzling.
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