There Is No Paradise Where You Escaped - Chapter 41

As soon as she returned to the room, Vivianne locked the door and sank to the floor, sliding down as if her legs could no longer support her. Her face, pale as a corpse, heaved with short, uneven breaths.

Finally, she had uncovered the true intentions of the Duke of Baytness. The bold touches, the embraces—each time, despite recognizing the passion burning in his eyes whenever they came into contact, she hadn’t been cautious enough. She had dismissed it as malicious suspicion, thinking it was merely a misunderstanding.

But all of it pointed to one thing: his bedroom, his bed, and his sheets. He had casually suggested they sleep together.

At that moment, she realized that Mayr’s earlier suggestion of becoming his mistress had been far more refined by comparison.

He had vowed to kill the sole daughter of a family he had promised to destroy—her. And yet, he now looked at her with arrogant eyes, offering her half of his bed as though she had no choice.

“Young lady, a man’s desires do not take into account the moment or the situation. They might whisper false love as if it were genuine, just to possess your body. That is why you must never, ever be swayed by their sweet words.”

Her mother, desperate to protect her beloved daughter and the family’s vast wealth as their ruin became inevitable, had arranged for early lessons on such matters from Vivianne’s governess when her debut into society approached.

Naive women were easily deceived by sweet masks. Her mother had warned her not to trust suitors too easily or to surrender her body and heart to their whispered affections. At the very least, she must avoid the worst-case scenario of falling for their schemes and losing everything.

So, even when she had craved safety and stability, Vivianne had refused every proposal that came her way and had kept her guard firmly up.

Now, she closed her eyes, pressing her hand against her chest to steady her racing heart. She struggled to suppress the echoing voices of her past and the crushing weight of the present. But the more she tried, the deeper the night seemed to grow, and those vividly blue eyes, burning with passion, only grew sharper in her mind.

 ────── ✾ ──────

The storm rattling the windows was fierce. On the other hand, the summer heat was waning, signaling the arrival of autumn. Once the storm passed, cold winds would soon come knocking at Rodinia’s door.

Edwin picked up the letter on the table. It was from the Baroness Baytness in Rottermond.

The letter began by asking if it was truly necessary to attend the Queen’s birthday celebration separately. The baroness then suggested that it would seem heartless for the master of Rottermond not to make an appearance. She proposed that he leave Rodinia early, spend five days in Rottermond, and then travel together to Farrington.

After addressing the main topic, she added a lengthy postscript at the bottom, nearly as long as the letter itself.

╔═

      Even if you do not bring Miss Aveline to the Queen’s birthday celebration, I recommend that you at least bring her to Rottermond. Wouldn’t she feel stifled staying only in Rodinia? Miss Aveline, who must have endured much emotionally, could use a refreshing trip. Bring Windler along as well.

                        ═╝

After reading through the postscript, Edwin set the letter down and reached for another one. But before he could pick it up, a knock came at the door.

To his surprise, Aveline stepped inside.

It had been days since he last saw Vivianne, who had been actively avoiding him as the summer heat faded. Even when she failed to appear at meals, he had let it slide. He assumed she would continue ignoring him, emboldened by Abernathy’s relayed messages.

“It’s been a while, Miss Aveline.”

“Yes…”

Her usual ivory skin, red lips, and lively rosy blush remained unchanged, even after several days. The only noticeable difference was the deepened shadow of caution in her gaze and her markedly reserved demeanor.

As he gestured to the full-length mirror, she approached with steps so slow that even a crawling snail could move faster. Standing in front of the mirror, he noticed that she barely reached his shoulder.

He had thought she was tall, but now that they were standing side by side, she didn’t seem that tall.

Vivianne stopped awkwardly a few steps away, unable to move closer. The mirror reflected only the left side of her face. The corners of her lips twitched uncomfortably, as though she was trying to steel herself or had something to say. Yet, with only half her face visible, it was impossible to discern her true intentions.

“… By the way, Your Grace,” she murmured. 

Her eyes dropped from his reflection in the mirror to the round table on the right. On it lay a measuring tape, a notepad, and a pen.

“I’ve never measured someone’s size before, so there might be errors. Wouldn’t it be better to leave this to a professional?”

Ever since realizing Edwin’s intentions, Vivianne had deliberately distanced herself.

She was in desperate need of the receipt he had promised, but she couldn’t muster the courage to confront him until she was ready. It would be reckless to jump into a wolf’s den without preparation.

She had thought long and hard about her options. For now, the wisest course was to guide him into changing his mind. She had been sketching out a plan to persuade him, but before she could gather the courage to voice it, Abernathy had suddenly summoned her to take measurements.

Vivianne thought today might be her chance, so she willingly stepped into the wolf’s den, opening the door herself. But once there, she couldn’t bring herself to speak. All she could do was mutter in a defeated tone that she had never taken measurements before.

“Today, I’ll find out if Miss Aveline has what it takes to become an expert.” Edwin smiled—a clean, flawless smile that was distinctly noble and elegant.

That smile had deceived many before, including Shaffer and herself.

Squinting her eyes, Vivianne snatched the measuring tape from the table and moved behind Edwin. Suddenly, having her view blocked, she felt a pang of bewilderment.

Was he always this tall and broad? Of course, she knew he was exceptionally tall and had a solid build. But seeing him up close, his imposing frame felt almost overwhelming. It wouldn’t have been strange for him to rule from the very top without question.

Vivianne stretched the long measuring tape across one shoulder to the other. It was unavoidable that she brushed against him.

The broad, well-structured frame and the firm muscles beneath his clothes were unmistakable. Once, in Preston, she had seen a wolf running across the snowy plains. Even from a distance, its sheer size had been intimidating. Now, standing so close to Edwin, she felt an eerily similar sensation.

After taking the measurement, Vivianne noted down his shoulder width on the notepad resting on the table. Then, with nervous eyes, she stood before him again. She thought perhaps looking at his face would be easier than his back, but even that wasn’t the case. His blatant stare made the nape of her neck burn.

Still, Vivianne forced herself to act as composed as possible, hardening her expression and pretending not to notice. She was determined not to play into his intentions.

“Could you… spread your arms out, please?”

He complied without hesitation, stretching his arms wide. Vivianne suddenly glanced up at him, finding the situation strange. In his cold, emotionless blue eyes, there was no passion—only a distorted reflection of her own face.

Vivianne quickly looked away and bent down slightly to measure his chest, slipping her hands under his outstretched arms.

Because she had kept her distance, her hands couldn’t quite reach, and she reluctantly stepped closer. The sensation of practically throwing herself into his arms was far from pleasant. It reminded her of that day by the lake—soaked, her nightgown torn, leaving her feeling naked and exposed in his grasp.

Once she finished measuring his chest, she turned back toward the table and exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. After writing down his chest measurement, she stood before him again, reaching out to measure his waist.

It was then that she felt it—a warm, soft hand brushing her cheek. Startled, Vivianne instinctively took a step back, only to find her back pressing against the cold surface of the mirror.

She stared at Edwin in shock, his hand now falling empty in the air. Despite her reaction, he remained unfazed.

That was what set off Vivianne’s anger, shattering the fragile composure she had barely managed to maintain.

“Your Grace!”

Her voice was clear and loud, each syllable clearly pronounced. Her expression was in stark contrast to Edwin’s serene smile and tilted head.

“You’ve been touching me far too often lately. Please, stop.”

“Why?”

Such a simple response to such a bold warning. It deflated her fighting spirit in an instant.

His expression and eyes seemed genuinely clueless, as if he truly didn’t understand what she meant. Vivianne was so dumbfounded and frustrated that words momentarily escaped her. After catching her breath, she managed to compose an appropriate response.

“Well… because it’s—because it’s unpleasant.”

“Then endure it.”

At that, Vivianne snarled fiercely. She slammed the measuring tape onto the table and planted her hands on her hips in a defiant stance.

Her aggressive posture only seemed to intrigue Edwin. His persistent, piercing gaze, as if he wanted to devour her whole, only made her angrier.

“Why should I endure it? I have no reason to!”

“Because it’s me, not anyone else.”

“Not just anyone, but you can’t either!”

Her protest came out as a mix between a roar and a scream, as fierce as a legendary dragon venting its wrath.

When Edwin didn’t respond and simply smirked, Vivianne became certain there was no reasoning with him. Furious, she spun around to leave.

But she couldn’t. His hand caught her arm, his grip unyielding as he pulled her back, shoving her into his embrace with such force that resistance was futile.

Vivianne wanted to fight back, but the more she struggled, the more she feared losing the last ounce of control she had over herself. And so, she endured—stiff and silent.

“Then try to make me stop touching you.”

“That’s not something I can do. It’s something Your Grace shouldn’t be doing.”

Vivianne glared at him fiercely, and a thin silence fell between them. The argument that should have continued abruptly stopped when Edwin did not answer.

As the silence deepened, her senses sharpened—the warmth of his body, his scent, the overwhelming closeness of him. 

Vivianne swallowed hard and shut her eyes, trying to focus through the intensity of being pressed against his towering frame. Her head felt clearer, but her erratic breathing betrayed her struggle.

“… Please let me go now. If Mr. Abernathy were to walk in, he’d call me an improper woman and point fingers. Don’t you realize? The more you act this way, the more it damages not just my reputation but yours as well. So stop asking me to come to your bed, stop claiming I’m yours, and stop—touching me like this.”

These were words she hadn’t planned to say while being held like this. Though she had prepared them for persuasion, much of what she intended to express remained unspoken.

As she resolved to reorganize her thoughts and address what she had forgotten, Edwin’s grip on her wrist loosened slightly—not enough for her to escape, but just enough to relieve some of the discomfort.

“Do you think I desire you?”

“… Then are you saying you don’t? If not, why? Why else did you ask me to come to your bed that night? And why are you holding me now, even though I’ve told you no? Look at us right now. This—this is wrong. Others may harbor such desires for me, but Your Grace, of all people, should not.”

Her flushed cheeks radiated warmth, and her lips, trembling as she passionately protested, caught his attention. They reminded him of unripe summer fruit: slightly bitter, sharp enough to jolt the senses, yet with a hint of sweetness from basking in the sun.

Edwin imagined what it might taste like—to bite into those lips, to leave his mark on her, to imprint himself within her entirely.

That thought alone made the idea of letting her go even harder. It was a contradiction, but that’s precisely why he had to let go. He feared that if he crossed the river of no return, he wouldn’t even regret it.

Edwin calmly released Vivianne. She sprang back as if recoiling from a flame, her wary eyes fixed on him.

Despite openly admitting his desire, his cold demeanor didn’t waver in the slightest, not even betraying the faintest ripple of emotion.

On one hand, Vivianne thought it might be better than a man who hid behind sweet words. But that didn’t make him any more welcome in her eyes.

The two stared at each other in silence.  As the silence dragged on, their growing tension slowly eased. And the fierce intensity in Vivianne’s gray eyes softened.

Edwin turned away, but she didn’t lower her guard, tracking his every movement as he opened the top drawer of a mahogany cabinet. From within, he retrieved a rectangular checkbook and a pen.

“Sit. You should at least be compensated for taking the measurements.”

He took a seat at the table and gestured toward the chair across from him.

Now that Vivianne understood the purpose of the measurements, the idea of a receipt felt anything but welcome. It was obvious what he was trying to do by offering it.

“Why are you writing me a receipt? Are you trying to compensate me for being touched?”

Her bold question caused his blue eyes to darken with a cold, piercing intensity. His expressionless face became unreadable, making it nearly impossible to discern his thoughts.

“How did the honorable Miss Aveline come to such an improper conclusion?”

“… I didn’t even finish taking all the measurements. Yet you’re offering me payment for it—it feels strange to me.”

“Who do you think you are?”

A cold sneer spread across his lips. The man who had burned with desire and possessiveness just moments ago was nowhere to be seen.

“Who do you think you are that touching you would be so satisfying I’d have to pay you for it?”

Vivianne’s face flushed a bright red. Though her lips twitched in embarrassment, her sharp, determined gaze remained unwavering, refusing to back down.

“I didn’t mean it that way. I said I didn’t want to be touched, so even if you gave me a receipt—”

“Miss Aveline,” he interrupted, his tone sharp and cutting. “Even if you offered to let me touch you in exchange for a receipt, I wouldn’t give you one.”

Vivianne felt somewhat reassured by this answer, assuming it meant he wouldn’t do anything morally wrong. But she couldn’t let her guard down completely.

“But I do desire you,” Edwin stated plainly.

His steady voice stopped there, leaving Vivianne hanging in the uneasy silence, wondering what he would say next.

“But I don’t covet you.”