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Chapter : 20
“What is all this?”
“Can’t you tell just by looking? Today’s papers and the letters you’re supposed to read.”
Lauren unfolded the newspaper first. It was a gossip rag she had never once cared to read, filled line after line with stories about the Earl of Collins.
“You read papers like this?”
“Quite a number of people in society are devoted readers of that newspaper.”
“Let’s see… ‘How a penniless baronet’s daughter seized his heart’… Hmm. It goes like this, does it?”
“Yes, like that. Isn’t it exactly the kind of thing people go wild for? A man mad with love and a woman without a penny to her name.”
“I think the ‘love’ part could probably be removed.”
“Just finish it.”
More worthless drivel followed—closer to a romance novel than a news article. While Lauren read, frowning deeper by the line, Cedric picked up an envelope and turned it over several times in his fingers.
“What are all these letters?”
“Check for yourself. Faster that way.”
She finally picked one that caught her eye. It was sealed with a crest she had never seen before.
She opened the top drawer and took out a letter knife. The dull metal slit the paper cleanly.
The contents were simple: a sticky sweet greeting overflowing with flowery expressions, followed by congratulations on the marriage.
“Don’t tell me all of these say the same thing?”
“That’s right. The senders differ, but the wording will all be similar. Like a pack of dogs.”
He grabbed the letter knife lying in front of Lauren and opened three envelopes in a row, stacking them aside without reading even half. A few he tossed straight into the wastebasket the moment he recognized the crest.
“You’re planning to throw them all out?”
“No. A few can’t be ignored. This white one, the one with the eagle seal, and…”
Most of the crests were unfamiliar. Cedric sorted through the letters, pulling out the important ones, then paused and looked at her.
“You really don’t know, do you?”
Lauren hesitated, then nodded, brow knit.
Naturally so. She had never even stepped a toe into society. Lauren Bailey considered herself lucky simply to recognize the royal crest.
“The next headline will probably be ‘Earl Collins and His Idiot Bride.’”
Cedric did not miss the chance to tease.
“We’ll see about that… I happen to know something far more important.”
She replied calmly.
“Something more important?”
“Like how to tie a knot that never comes undone…”
“Are you serious?”
“Or how to make a husband with a single revolver.”
“…Honestly.”
She never lost a verbal match. Cedric looked away and returned to sorting letters. Soon, three or four lay in a neat pile in front of her.
“Read at least these. And remember the names and crests. Apart from that—”
Cedric suddenly stopped speaking. Slowly, he reached for a pale pink envelope that had been buried at the bottom.
“…This one is important too. More than the others.”
It bore no seal. The palm-sized envelope was decorated only with tiny lavender motifs—no writing anywhere. Yet Cedric’s expression soured.
“There isn’t even a sender written.”
“The envelope alone tells us. And the sender knows that I’ll know.”
Thud. He tossed the envelope onto the table and handed Lauren the letter knife.
“I have no idea who sent it, you see?”
She grumbled as she tore the flap open. A soft floral scent drifted up immediately.
Someone who even perfumes her letters. Must be very particular. The paper was neatly folded.
“Want me to read it out loud?”
“Do as you like.”
Cedric perched on the edge of the desk. As Lauren skimmed the top lines, her expression twisted strangely, as though she were suppressing laughter.
“To the Earl of Collins.”
She began reading the very first line, voice trembling with barely held mirth.
“The next line says, ‘Are you out of your mind?’ All right, continuing—”
She didn’t even finish the first syllable of the next sentence before Cedric snatched the letter from her hand. Too fast for her to react.
Lauren burst out laughing, unable to contain herself. Ignoring her giggles, Cedric bent over the desk and read to himself.
Below the rude opening—‘Are you out of your mind?’—was a long tirade of nagging.
The tone smoothed toward the end, but the entire contents were essentially:
“What do you mean you’re suddenly getting married? I will meet this woman at once.”
Cedric pressed his fingers hard into his temples.
“So? Who is she?”
“It’s… complicated.”
“But shouldn’t I know? Sounds like she wants to meet me, not you.”
Cedric leaned toward her, bracing himself with one arm on the desk, shrinking the space between them.
“Smile.”
“What?”
“Like a dim-witted lady. You know—the foolish, innocent type. No scowling or sly snickering.”
“As always, your manners are impeccable, Cedric.”
His green eyes stared into hers from beneath messy hair that clearly hadn’t seen a brush this morning.
“Better to play the idiot than get caught out. My aunt has a sharp eye.”
Aunt. Lauren immediately understood.
If anyone’s nephew suddenly announced a secret marriage, “Are you sane?” was a reasonable response.
There would be no avoiding this visit. Lauren crossed her arms as the worst possible scenarios crowded her mind. Cedric seemed to be thinking along the same lines; he could not look away from the letter.
“We should… prepare answers in advance.”
He folded the letter back into its envelope and concluded:
“You’ll have three seconds to respond.”
“Three seconds?”
Lauren barely had time to understand before questions came—sharp like an interrogation.
“Where did we first meet?”
“…At an illegal gambling den.”
“And why are we getting married?”
“I gently suggested it. That we ought to marry.”
“Gently suggested? You held me at gunpoint.”
She shrugged, unbothered.
“Forget it. Next—imagine my aunt asks how you and I became acquainted.”
“If I get stabbed, your nephew dies. A curse. Something like that.”
“Is that really what you intend to say?”
“…When Cedric is hurt, I hurt too?”
“That one is marginally better.”
A barrage of impossible questions followed. Every answer unfit for polite company. Cedric tapped the desk with the envelope.
“Lauren. Do you want to end up with shackles instead of a wedding ring, and a prison cell instead of an aisle? At this rate, reading the gossip aloud would be safer.”
“Fine, fine. So what we need is… fabricating a past?”
Cedric reached for a pulp novel Lauren had shoved aside earlier. The cheap paper crinkled. Rapturous Love. Once he saw the title, he smirked knowingly.
“How fortunate. You already have reference material.”
“Excuse me?”
“We need a story good enough to satisfy my aunt. If we plan carefully, we can reuse it until the day we divorce.”
Lauren didn’t disagree.
“If we get caught lying, we’re doomed either way. Fine. Let’s make it convincing.”
She plucked Rapturous Love from his hand. It was about a serial killer who found pleasure in murder—the title drawn from the line ‘Murder is as rapturous as love.’
No need to mention that part.
