Chapter 208
“…A meeting?”
Leroy’s hand, which had been undoing her buttons, stopped mid-action.
Iona, as if Leroy had no idea, looked up at him and spoke.
“Yes, he said he wanted to settle down here, so I thought I’d arrange something. Luckily, Sir Jonas offered to help.”
This wasn’t the first time Leroy had heard about Fin meeting someone.
On the day Viscount Ida died, during the journey to the Viscount’s residence, Jonas had already shared something about it. However, the shocking events that unfolded upon arrival had pushed their earlier conversation out of Leroy’s mind.
“Right, Jonas mentioned something about it in passing. How’s it going? Making progress?”
“No, Sir Jonas has been quite busy with other matters recently, so the meeting hasn’t happened yet. But he’s narrowed down some candidates, so we should hear good news soon.”
Iona’s face lit up with pride as she said this, her satisfaction evident.
Something about her pure expression made Leroy feel a pang of guilt.
Why had he been so petty, throwing childish fits of jealousy at such a wife?
All he needed to do was trust her and watch—she’d deal with any rivals herself.
Leroy tried to imagine Fin’s expression when he heard about this arrangement.
Being a composed gentleman, he likely wouldn’t show his feelings outwardly, but surely, he was disheartened inside.
Come to think of it, he remembered hearing that Fin had recently taken a sick day due to gastritis. At the time, Leroy had assumed it was from overwork and lack of exercise, but now he wondered if that wasn’t the real cause.
With a picture-perfect smile, Leroy said, “This is about someone you care for, so I can’t just stand by. Let me know if you need help.”
“Thank you. Um, but…”
After expressing her gratitude, Iona glanced down nervously.
Somehow, the shirt that had been covering her shoulders was gone, leaving her in just a camisole.
The culprit, of course, was the man standing right in front of her.
With a slightly troubled tone, Iona said, “I can undress myself, you know.”
“That’s not a bad idea. I’ll look forward to it next time,” Leroy replied with a playful smirk as he pulled her shirt entirely off her arms.
That wasn’t what she meant! What exactly was he “looking forward to”?
The thought of undressing herself while he watched made her cheeks flush bright red. She desperately wanted to avoid such an embarrassing scenario.
‘That’s why I stopped undressing in the first place. How did things turn out like this?’
Perhaps walking into the room on her own was the real mistake.
She should’ve done what she usually did—let him use the bathroom first. But exhaustion had clouded her judgment.
As Iona glanced around the room, trying to figure out how to salvage the situation, Leroy, as if reading her every thought, spoke with a teasing smile.
“The water’s going to get cold at this rate.”
“…Are you thinking of joining me?”
Iona asked in disbelief, refusing to accept the possibility.
Leroy couldn’t help but burst into laughter at her question.
When his laughter subsided, Iona retorted firmly, “I’m covered in dirt from head to toe. I’m filthy right now.”
“Then how about we get filthy together first?”
With that, Leroy skillfully began undoing the rest of her clothing.
Iona instinctively moved to stop him but hesitated, lowering her hands.
‘Is he really serious about this?’
Her body already ached from riding all night, and she wasn’t sure if she could handle the “intense exercise” he was clearly planning.
Even so, if it was what he wanted, she didn’t intend to refuse.
For Iona, there was nothing she wouldn’t do for him. Compared to her grander goal of vengeance, this was a trivial effort. Besides, she wasn’t one to shy away from enjoying such “trivial efforts” herself.
Resigned, Iona let Leroy take the lead.
Once he got what he wanted, he lifted her effortlessly and carried her to the bathtub.
He slowly lowered her into the water before sitting on the edge, still fully clothed, with his arms resting on the rim of the tub.
As he gazed at her intently, Iona crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly self-conscious.
She’d never realized how exposing it felt to be bare in front of someone else. Usually, in such situations, they were both too busy with other things for her to notice.
Stealing a glance at him, she asked, “…Aren’t you going to join me?”
His low chuckle reverberated again.
Leroy asked in his usual nonchalant tone,
“Do you want me to?”
Iona quickly shook her head.
Watching her, Leroy thought she resembled a puppy. Not the insulting moniker “the Crown Prince’s dog,” but rather an innocent creature returning home, caked in dirt, nervously gauging his mood. It reminded him of a puppy he’d seen at a relative’s house when he was younger.
Even their appearances were somewhat alike—white fur for the dog, silvery hair for Iona.
How could he give in to base desires when such a small, endearing creature sat before him?
Not that the desire wasn’t there, but Leroy believed in taking certain steps before indulging in such things.
“First, we’ll clean up, have a meal, get some rest… then…”
“…”
“Then we can save the truly filthy stuff for later.”
As he spoke, Leroy reached out with a wet hand, brushing back Iona’s damp hair. His tone may have been teasing, but his touch was gentle.
The sensation of his hand was so pleasant that Iona unconsciously leaned into him.
When she opened her eyes, she realized how close his face had gotten and instinctively pulled back slightly.
Leroy, as if waiting for this moment, kissed her lightly.
It was a simple kiss, soft and brief, with his lips retreating almost as soon as they met hers.
Leroy began to straighten up, preparing to stand, when Iona, almost without thinking, reached out and grabbed his hand.
Meeting his curious gaze, Iona instinctively licked her lips.
The kiss hadn’t been deep, and the spot where his lips had touched still felt dry.
She impulsively asked,
“Would you… join me?”
Leroy’s arm stiffened slightly.
After a moment of silence, he stepped closer, leaning over the tub and bracing himself on either side. His gaze roamed over her, lingering, almost grazing her skin.
In a low, husky voice, he murmured,
“Sometimes, it feels like you’re testing my patience.”
Iona thought this accusation was unfair.
It was always Leroy who provoked her first, leading her to expect something, only to back away with a gentlemanly façade. Was that truly the behavior of a nobleman?
“No,” she countered, “I just thought it wouldn’t be so bad to clean up and then fall asleep in my husband’s arms.”
Leroy smirked at her words, the corners of his lips lifting in amusement. After a brief pause, he replied,
“Well then, I’ll gladly oblige.”
Thanks to the experience he’d gained as a married man, Leroy knew many ways to bring his wife joy without pushing things too far. The problem was that these efforts often felt like a form of self-restraint.
He couldn’t heartlessly pull away from her outstretched hand, nor could he risk overexerting her by keeping her awake all night.
It seemed Leroy was destined to endure a difficult trial.
Suppressing a sigh of anticipation, he allowed himself to be drawn into her temptation.
****
“Are you bored?”
“No, this is nice and comfortable.”
“Would you like me to fetch a book for you?”
“No, but maybe you could bring me a needle and thread. I think I’d like to embroider something.”
Their conversation had naturally shifted into Bardem, causing Amaia to pause as she was clearing the table.
She turned to look at the poised and elegant lady sitting before her, admiration evident in her gaze.
The requirements for someone to impersonate Carmen were surprisingly stringent.
While physical appearance, such as build or hair color, could be disguised with clothing and dye, it was much harder to teach someone the grace of a noblewoman and fluency in Bardem within a short period.
Amaia had suffered countless sleepless nights worrying about who could fill Carmen’s absence until Iona presented a solution.
The substitute Iona had arranged quickly rendered Amaia’s concerns irrelevant.
“Where on earth did she find someone like this?” Amaia wondered, marveling at the stand-in.
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