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Chapter 45
When mealtime arrived, people began to gather in the dining room one by one.
“Is your room comfortable?”
Emily asked as she naturally took the seat beside Killian.
“Yes, it’s fine.”
He wasn’t just being polite.
Perhaps because he was the husband of their lady, the accommodations were generous—spacious, with the room’s condition in perfect order. The garden view from the windows wasn’t bad either.
“That’s good to hear.”
Tonight’s dinner was attended by Emily, Killian, Pete, and Baron Roman and his wife—long-time retainers of House Sinope. That made five in total.
“My wife and I cannot tell you how excited we were to see the young lady again.”
For Baron Roman, who was normally reserved and gentlemanly, even this much emotional expression was rare.
“I’m glad as well, to see you both like this.”
Seeing the baron’s genuine delight in welcoming her, Emily smiled brightly.
“Dear.”
At that moment, the baroness tapped her husband’s arm. As if suddenly reminded, the baron clapped his hands.
“Ah, that’s right. I practiced calling her by the proper title before coming here, but fell back into old habits. I should now call you Lord of the Domain.”
“Please call me whatever you’re comfortable with. That title still feels strange to me as well.”
“Even so, we must observe proper etiquette.”
The baroness, like her husband, was graceful and cultured.
“I couldn’t attend the wedding because of my health at the time, so I must also offer my greetings now, to the marquis.”
She inclined her head respectfully toward Killian.
“I hear you’ve come together to help with the business.”
At her words, Pete rose to his feet.
“My name is Pete Donahue.”
The baron stood as well, shook his hand, then sat back down.
“With two capable gentlemen from the capital here, we feel so reassured.”
Thanks to the couple’s warm and friendly attitude, the dinner atmosphere quickly grew cheerful.
The baroness glanced at Emily and Killian sitting side by side.
She had heard that Killian was of common birth, yet nothing in his appearance or bearing resembled a commoner.
He was noble in demeanor, exuding dignity. His intelligent, sharp gray eyes added further to that impression.
At first, she had nearly fainted upon hearing that the young lady was marrying a man from the mafia, but seeing him now, her fears seemed needless.
Killian tended to his wife with gentle care, and the subtle air between them clearly showed that the two cherished each other.
“What are your plans for tomorrow?”
The baroness asked, and Emily replied.
“I’m planning to visit Toto’s shop tomorrow. I want to try his carrot cake.”
“Then I’ll warn him in advance. If you just show up, you may not even get a bite because of all the tourists.”
“Is it really that popular?”
Pete naturally joined the conversation.
“You’ll understand once you try it.”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Donahue doesn’t care for desserts,” Emily explained with a smile.
The baroness chuckled.
“My husband won’t touch sweets either, but he ate that cake, didn’t you, dear?”
“Haha, that’s true.”
At that, Pete shrugged.
“Well, with such high praise, I suppose I must try it too.”
“You’ll be surprised,” said the baroness, then turned to Killian.
“And you, Marquis? Do you like cake?”
Emily also looked at him curiously.
Killian usually ate desserts when they were served, but his expression was so unreadable that it was hard to tell whether he enjoyed them or not.
“I eat it if it’s there.”
“So you’ve never been particularly impressed by desserts?”
“That’s right.”
“Then you must try it tomorrow as well.”
“Yes, I will.”
Watching Killian converse casually with her household, Emily felt her chest grow warm and tender.
After dinner, the Roman couple departed, and it was time for Emily to personally show Killian around the mansion.
House Sinope had sixty rooms in total, so it wasn’t possible to tour them all. They only visited the count couple’s chambers, Emily’s childhood room, the reception room, library, ballroom, and the long gallery before heading to the garden for tea.
“This charming girl must be you as a child, my lady.”
In Emily’s room, Pete held up a small framed photo.
“Yes, that’s me.”
The girl in the photo held a bouquet bigger than her face and beamed with a radiant smile.
“You were born exceptional, even from a young age,” Pete said.
Killian too peered into the photo.
Her features were already striking for a child, her skin porcelain white, her smile pure and bright—a beautiful, innocent little girl.
The thought that such a pure girl had married someone like him, so stained by the world, filled Killian with guilt.
When he stared too long at the photo, Emily grew embarrassed and snatched it from his hand.
“Ahem. Shall we see the next room?”
Killian seemed intent on missing nothing, taking in each place she introduced with keen attention.
When they visited the study her father had used often, he even sat in his chair and admired the garden view as though to experience it himself.
Emily was glad he listened so attentively and joined the tour sincerely.
At that moment, the nanny appeared, carrying a picnic basket.
“My lady, since the weather is so fine, why not have tea on the island?”
In the eastern garden was an artificial lake with a small island at its center.
A pavilion with a foreign air stood there, making it a perfect spot for tea if one rowed across by boat.
Emily checked the time.
“But the sun will set soon.”
Once the sun went down, the boat could not be used.
“Oh, it stays light long these days. It will be fine.”
The nanny thrust the picnic basket into Emily’s arms. Pete, quick on the uptake, discreetly excused himself.
“I’ll turn in early to rest. You two should enjoy yourselves.”
“Why? Won’t you come with us?”
“There’s plenty to do tomorrow, so I should get some sleep.”
He glanced at the nanny, who had been silently glaring at him as if to say, Get lost.
“The boat only holds two anyway—perfect! Off you go, just the two of you.”
And so, swept along by the nanny’s insistence, Emily and Killian soon found themselves at the boat.
“Do you know how to row?”
Killian answered not with words but by stepping aboard first.
“Take my hand.”
He reached out. The same large, firm hand that had held hers before wrapped warmly around her own.
After ensuring Emily was steady, Killian untied the rope and took the oars.
Rowing looked simple but was heavy work, difficult to steer. Yet Killian moved the boat with practiced ease.
“Have you rowed before?”
“Yes, sometimes.”
Today he wore a white shirt and dark navy trousers. The summer jacket he’d worn for form’s sake was set aside.
Each time he pulled the oars, the muscles in his arms flexed visibly.
When Emily dropped her gaze in fluster, she was met instead with his taut abs and strong thighs.
Look at the scenery, not him!
She shook her head quickly and tried conversation.
“Aren’t your arms getting tired? Should I try rowing?”
Killian glanced at her slender wrists and arms. She’d be lucky not to drop the oars entirely.
“I’m fine.”
With his refusal, Emily resigned herself to admiring the scenery. Soon she peeked into the picnic basket the nanny had packed. It brimmed with drinks and treats.
“You’ll be hungry after rowing. Fortunately, she packed plenty.”
Killian cast a glance inside.
“That’s a lot for just two.”
“The nanny always over-prepares.”
The lake wasn’t large, so the boat reached the island quickly. The island held only the pavilion and its surrounding garden.
Glass walls had been fitted between the pillars, giving it the feel of a greenhouse.
Again with Killian’s help, Emily stepped ashore, then hurried to lay out the food and drinks on the tea table.
“These are made from carrots grown on our estate.”
She handed him a glass of carrot juice. Killian disliked strongly flavored vegetables, but he had no trouble with carrots.
He downed it in a single gulp.
“How is it? Does it taste like when you were young?”
“Yes.”
Though she hadn’t made it herself, Emily felt oddly proud.
But as soon as they arrived, the sky darkened. Heavy clouds rolled in, dimming the island.
The nanny insisted on this picnic because of the nice weather… Emily frowned.
Setting down a scone, she peered outside. Raindrops began to fall.
“We should return before it pours.”
“Yes, let’s hurry back.”
They quickly packed the food and rushed down to the dock.
But when they arrived, Emily gasped.
The boat was gone—its mooring rope gnawed through, likely by rodents, and it drifted on the far side of the lake.
“Wait here.”
The boat hadn’t floated too far. Killian decided to retrieve it himself.
The nanny, honestly… dragging us out here for a picnic in this weather. As if some romance could possibly—
