《Salvation Equation》 Chapter 0 ¡°Did you think that if you behaved like a prostitute like that, a handsome prince would appear?¡± Count Nottingham sneered with a cold face. He approached with his crutches. He laughed even louder when Madeline reflexively backed away. Her back teeth trembled and she got goosebumps. ¡°Why do you look even more ridiculous this close up?¡± ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t¡­¡­.¡± But Madeline¡¯s voice lacked authenticity. Her voice was disturbed, rustling like a dead leaf. Madeline Nottingham was 28 years old. Six years had passed since she was married to Count Nottingham. In words, it was a marriage, but in reality, it was nothing more than a coerced contract. At least that was what Madeline thought. At least that¡¯s what Madeleine thought. This was not how a proper marriage should be. Her husband could not be this cruel. She was born into a wealthy and aristocratic family, but she could not deny that the only thing she had left was a monstrous man in front of her and the haunted house. Reality was harsh, and her husband was even harsher than that. He wasn¡¯t likeable to begin with. There was nothing cute or human about him. For Madeline, it was easier to hate the man than to love him. The one-legged Count Nottingham drew closer and closer to her. The huge scars drawn horizontally and vertically across his face were vivid and wrenching as he got closer. He was emaciated, but the skeleton itself was huge and menacing enough. A hybrid of werewolf and vampire, he looked like a ghost that shouldn¡¯t exist. Madeline shuddered and groaned at the sight of her staggering husband. Before she knew it, the Count, who was approaching, snatched her skinny white wrist with one free hand. ¡°I wonder how you cried under that man.¡± Despite the obvious taunting, the man¡¯s face, seen up close, was already red with murderous intent and madness. His dark green eyes were like a beast, his concave cheeks were pale, and his scars were too clear. ¡®It¡¯s a monster.¡¯ ¡°Get your hands off me!¡± Madeline let out a suppressed groan as fear and horror overtook her. But the man did not care. ¡°Was the Baron nice to you? I guess I whispered love to you. With that snake-like tongue¡­¡­.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t say a word about him!¡± ¡°¡­¡­¡± The man¡¯s hands started to gain more strength as he heard those words. Physiological tears began to flow because of the pain. More importantly, no matter how coldly Count Nottingham treated her, what Madeline had committed was wrong. She herself knew that her secret meeting with the Baron was not justified. Although she did not have a physical relationship with him, in her heart she had betrayed and betrayed her husband, the Count, many times. ¡®Did I love Arlington? It¡¯s more than that¡­¡¯ ¡®Think of it as revenge.¡¯ Madeline shook her head in her mind. It didn¡¯t matter if she loved the Baron or not. All that mattered was that she hated the man in front of her and wanted to hurt him. She hoped that he would be furious and collapse. The other person wasn¡¯t important. Of course she was going to pay the price. Madeline vowed to bear the shame and disgrace herself. But she didn¡¯t think that such a resolution would provoke the man in front of her. ¡°¡­You can¡¯t get out.¡± A low, cavernous voice rang in her ears. ¡°Not even if you die, not even if I die. Even if this bloody haunted house collapses. You are not getting out of here.¡± The words sounded so horribly evil. Her wrist hurt. ¡°No. Let go of my hand!¡± ¡®B*stard¡¯. Madelaine screamed out loud. But no matter how loud she shouted, the servants didn¡¯t seem to hear anything. They were the ghosts of Nottingham¡¯s mansion, and they were as good as hands and feet to the man. It was their duty to hear and not listen to the spectacle of all this. Horrible loneliness and shame strangled Madeline. ¡°I¡¯m going to run away! From you, this disgusting place¡­¡­.¡± Madeline¡¯s lips twisted. Hatred finally overcame fear. She will be free. She will truly escape from the grip of that disgusting man. ¡°You can¡¯t trap me.¡± She¡¯s getting out of here. This terrible mansion. This haunted house. Madeline stepped back again. She was going to turn her body around and go down the stairs. But there was something strange. Her retreating foot hovered in the air, and then she fell. It was a fall. Thud. Thud. Thud. At the same time as the sound, she began to roll down the spiral stone staircase. The house¡¯s hunting trophies (horse, deer, tiger, wolf, and lion) watched the scene without a care in the world. The beast¡¯s cries were heard. The shock was repeated and Madeline¡¯s mind began to darken. The pain was destroying her. This was the end. Madeline Nottingham, or rather, Madeline Loenfield, had fled the affair and ended up dead. In her flickering consciousness, Madeline heard someone crying out her name over and over again. It was horrifying, but on the other hand, it was also refreshing. If she hurt him even this much¡­it seemed to clear her chest. But like a ball rolling down a spiral staircase, had fate fallen somewhere else? When she woke up, she was not in heaven (which of course she thought she couldn¡¯t go), purgatory, or hell¡­. She was back when she was seventeen. In the gorgeous, beautiful Loennfield mansion. Spring of a seventeen year old. Just as what had not yet died was revived, Madeline¡¯s seventeen-year-old life began again. Chapter 1 **** ¡ª Our marriage was a failure. Your heart has not been reciprocated. I could sympathize with you, but I couldn¡¯t love you. Maybe that¡¯s what I decided to do. You may have closed the door to your heart and decided that I was a monster and that I was the sacrifice of a burnt offering. No one was innocent in this transaction from the start. Isn¡¯t it funny? In spite of all this, I hate you. In the end, our marriage was bound to fail. * * * It took Madeline two full days to accept the reality that she had returned to the past. She didn¡¯t know if she should be scared or delighted that she had returned to 11 years ago. She was happy, then scared, then happy again. Was it because of overly intense and complicated emotions? Her unusual behavior as she appeared drew the attention of Loenfield mansion¡¯s servants as well. Madeline burst into tears as soon as she saw her butler, Fred, also amplifying the concerns of her employees. ¡°Mis. After all, you have a cold¡­ ¡± The expressions of the butler and maids were a sight to behold. After making a fuss for a while and worrying the staff inside the mansion, Madeline decided to keep quiet after her butler Fred said that he would eventually call her doctor. When she came to her senses, her own behavior was a bit awkward, but she didn¡¯t withdraw from getting attention. What she had now was her precious second chance. She couldn¡¯t waste her precious opportunity to live as a crazy woman. The morning of the third day. She finally calmed her mind and looked at herself in front of the mirror. She had a youthful, young face rather than maturity. Madeline Loenfield from a time when she was docile and bright and knew nothing of darkness. Her honey-blond hair, her blue eyes gleamed with playfulness, and her rosy cheeks were fine and soft. She was a completely different person from her past self, a woman who was so gloomy and cold after a series of misfortunes. ¡®But¡­.I have no intention of living in pure silence again.¡¯ Madeline bit her lips as she looked at her face in the mirror. Even if she sees it, she pretends not to see it, if she doesn¡¯t know, she doesn¡¯t know. She¡¯ll live that way and she¡¯ll never be unhappy again. ¡®I will take care of everything I need and live only for myself.¡¯ The downfall of the Loenfield due to her father¡¯s gambling debts had her married someone who she had never seen before¡­She had no intention of repeating all those mistakes again. But¡­ At seventeen, there was no time. The Loenfield, seemingly glamorous, was financially precarious. There was still a little over a year left before the reality was fully revealed. After Madeline¡¯s mother died five years ago, the Baron had been walking on an endless downward spiral. Baron Loenfield was spending his money like an unbridled pony, and the wealth of the rural aristocrats was fading away. As Madeline sighed, recognizing her sobering reality, her door opened and her maid Cassie entered. Cassie was a docile, good-natured maid who served Madeline for a long time. Her freckled face was friendly and kind. She was also the last servant to be fired after the Loenfield family went bankrupt. She looked at Madeline with her very worried look. ¡°Lady. Are you okay now?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Madeline¡¯s cheeks were red again. The morning after her regression, as soon as she woke up, she cried in Cassie¡¯s arms, and her face went hot thinking about that. ¡°Is the Baron arriving today?¡± ¡°¡­.¡± There was no reason to set the date. Now, the father must have been on his way back from a tour of another continent with his friends. Madeline¡¯s father, Baron Loenfield, claimed to be a lover of art and philosophy. In his spare time, he toured southern Europe saying he would imitate Seon-hyeon who left for the grand tour. ¡®Grand tour, like the 17th century¡­¡¯ Madeline¡¯s face darkened. She seemed to have to go through the accounting books right away. If such a thing even existed. Not sure how to interpret Madeleine¡¯s complicated expression, but Cassie just brushed her hair. ¡°Perhaps he met a nice gentleman in Italy. It was said Italian men were really cool.¡± ¡°¡­¡± Even if he had made friends, he would have been an empty-headed Gangjeong. Baron Loenfield was high-eyed and vain. The Baron¡¯s output was getting more and more generous, but he was anxious to maintain the huge mansion¡­ It was like he was swimming in a bubble that was slowly fading away. She got to know herself after a few days of returning to the past¡­ Madeline herself was no different. It was a hard truth to face. Madeline Loenfield was the beneficiary of that calm bubble. There, she grew up as a flower in a nice greenhouse. But how would a flower in such a greenhouse know how to survive alone? When Madeline¡¯s mood subsided noticeably, Cassie spoke more with excitement to change the mood. ¡°Perhaps the Baron will tell you an interesting story.¡± The Baron and Madeline were close to each other. After the death of her sensible and strict mother, the two continued role-playing, substituting and fulfilling each other¡¯s fantasies. Perhaps that was why the two became increasingly ignorant of the world. They believed that they could protect the pride of aristocrats in a rapidly changing world. ¡®But in the end my father abandoned me.¡¯ Madeline looked into the mirror with a calm face. There sat a weak-looking girl. In the morning of her past life, the Loenfield¡¯s mansion was confiscated by debtors and banks. The Baron was found hanging in his study. His will didn¡¯t even mention Madeline¡¯s name. It was only for her that there was written content that lamented her own honor and life. At first glance, the Loenfield was seemingly perfect and the locals envied. It was a pity that the Baron didn¡¯t have a son, but his daughter was pretty, and her title and wealth looked pretty good. Besides, he raised his daughter well and married her to a wealthy home, and she was his lucrative business. But to the country folk, Loenfield was still a local, bold sensation. Madeline, who knew what was going to happen next, was only anxious. But she didn¡¯t want to make it obvious. So she waited for her father as she dressed as usual, drank her tea, and read her book. But the letters couldn¡¯t catch her eyes. Madeline, feeling frustrated as if her heart was tightening, put on an outing dress and sneaked out of the house. Fred, the butler, would always nag that she had to be accompanied by a friend or a maid. Despite of the time, it was also a very polite greeting. * * * Going outside, the fresh air was cool as if it cleaned Madeleine Loenfield¡¯s lungs. But as she walked, she could not be bright and cheerful. She looked like a seventeen-year-old lady on the outside, but her insides were already in a state of disrepair, and she was very confused. Madeline walked along the promenade leading to the beech forest. Will she be able to live a different life this time? Can she save her father? Will she be able to save the family? But she felt frustrated, as if she had missed something important. After going up the hill for a while, she saw a carriage in the distance. The carriage was recognizable at a glance. It was a black carriage owned by the Loenfield estate. Madeline waited for the carriage to draw near. The carriage stopped right in front of Madeline. She was standing slumped. She did not know how to treat her father, whom she saw again in nearly 6 years. Will she be happy? Will she be disappointed? Or¡­ ¡°Madeline. You are here, walking alone.¡± ¡­ maybe nothing. She looked at her father¡¯s brightly smiling face as if nothing had happened, and she thought nothing of it. It was empty. Everything faded in her, as if her hatred and her longing were worn out and polished away. Did she have this face? The well-proportioned face of the handsome man was faded due to his characteristic frivolity. Madeline inherited his blonde hair and blue eyes. Her father smiled, revealing his white teeth. Madeline also smiled reflexively. ¡°Father.¡± But¡­. ¡°Madeline, we have a very special guest today. Now, let me introduce my friend. Master Nottingham.¡± ¡°¡­¡­ ¡± It was just before Madeline¡¯s face began to lose color, at that moment, a man sitting across from Baron Loenfield, waving his hat with his hand, offered a ceremonial greeting to Madeline. The man she saw for the first time¡­. Madeline tilted her head. The man in the carriage was tall and had broad shoulders. Judging from the title Master, it seemed that he was at least the son of a Count¡­ Jet-black hair and emerald eyes gleamed. The overall impression was thick, but the facial features were applied to create a sophisticated atmosphere. He was a cold, handsome man. However, he looked a lot like someone she knew. It was an unknown face. ¡®No, Master Nottingham?¡¯ As realization began to dwell in awareness, Madeline¡¯s complexion face began to turn pale. The handsome man in front of her was her past husband, Ian Nottingham. ¡°Come on, get in the carriage. I have a lot to tell you.¡± When Madeleine didn¡¯t say anything, the Baron was perplexed. Originally, Madeline would have greeted him and smiled broadly like a friendly child. However, for some reason, her lips were stiff, so it was difficult to even smile. For nothing, the atmosphere inside the carriage became more subtle. The cool Baron Loenfield trembled at first. ¡°Originally, she¡¯s not such a shy kid¡­ Madeline, are you feeling unwell? Master, I¡¯m sorry. The child is not shy.¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s fine.¡± The man replied dryly, without looking at Madeline. He really didn¡¯t care too much. If she procrastinated more, she thought it would only attract the attention of the man for nothing. Madeline smiled foolishly and sat down next to her father with the help of the coachman. Chapter 2 *** The man sitting across from Madeline was quiet. That one thing was the same as before. Even in her previous life, her husband was very quiet. He rarely even said a few words in a row, like when he grabbed Madeline¡¯s wrist and pursued her. But now his silence didn¡¯t feel as forced as it had before. It just gave the impression that he was a quiet type by nature. Thanks to this, Madeline had to listen to the Baron babbling about Italy. In the past, she would have made a pleasant comment about the Renaissance painters¡­ But now she couldn¡¯t concentrate on the conversation because all nerves were on her ex-husband. The Ian Nottingham in front of her now was Ian Nottingham, but he was not Ian Nottingham. This contradiction-filled sentence was true in the paradox Madeline faced. The man in front of her now did not look unhappy or distressed. He was the epitome of the perfect gentleman: young, handsome, and competent. The Count¡¯s son who expected only the best in future, which was spread out as plainly as a fine carpet. It was itself. Confidence erupted from his upright posture. There was a marked difference in attitude between him and Baron Loenfield, a provincial aristocrat who made a lot of noise. Before the regression, Ian Nottingham wouldn¡¯t even make eye contact with Madeline. He didn¡¯t even like to be in the same space as her, and when she touched the back of his burned hand, he would scream and get angry. His posture was always hunched. The difference between this Nottingham and that Nottingham was too vivid. In fact, it wasn¡¯t an exaggeration to say that she was mistaken for others. She was looking sideways at the man, and Madeline and Ian Nottingham¡¯s gazes met. Madelaine turned her head quickly, but it didn¡¯t help that she had already been found out. Then an unbelievable scene unfolded. The man smiled slightly at her. It was as if it was natural for Madeline to stare at him. The emotionless face seemed much more plausible and handsome as the warmth of the smile spread. ¡®Does he think I¡¯m not talking because I¡¯m shy?¡¯ As far as Madeline was concerned, it was rather fortunate if he misunderstood her that way. In reality, the current situation was very strange and uncomfortable. Perhaps it was a physiological rejection. Or should she say that she felt like she was seeing something that didn¡¯t fit the logic? She was curious. The Ian Nottingham she knew was an unhappy man, a man who had to be unhappy, but the man in front of her now was a young, confident, and promising man. He was a glittering figure of a man that Madeline, the daughter of a country nobleman, would not have looked at. She had to accept the fact that he was the man right in front of her before the war destroyed him. It was a fact that she dared not try to confirm. Madeline Loenfield could not close her eyes or open them completely in the face of that truth. She knew the ending. For a moment, she felt sorry for the man. It was dangerous. She should stay as far away from him as possible. Madeline repeated in her mind. * * * * -22-year-old Madeline. Madeline didn¡¯t mean to hate her husband from the beginning. She knew that she could not love him, but she still wanted to make it work. She already knew that love was not essential between a husband and wife. Even if they didn¡¯t love each other, she wanted to be a good couple. Lead the wounded man to the right path and be loyal to him. Make him better. She wanted to be a wise wife who people would admire. But her naive dream had hit the rocks and shattered, as it always did. She didn¡¯t get along with him from the beginning. The Count had not appeared in her bedroom since the first night. She was confused as to whether she should be relieved or distressed. Sleeping together was hard to even imagine, but still, such a rejection was insulting. Not only on their wedding night that he did not come, the Count did not want to spend any time with Madeline. They always ate their meals in separate studies and never spent time together over tea. Of course, they didn¡¯t play tennis or discuss family affairs. It wasn¡¯t until a month after the wedding that Madeline spoke to him for the first time. Even that was closer to a meeting than to an ordinary conversation. She sat leaning back in the big chair in her study and said to the man who looked up at her like she was a ghost. ¡°You seem to have forgotten that I exist.¡± Did he laugh? No, he did not laugh. His gaunt, pale face was lit from the fire of the stove. ¡°I haven¡¯t forgotten.¡± He said in a tired and weary voice. Madeline bit her lips in frustration. ¡®Lie. You¡¯re messing with me.¡¯ She wanted to tell him off somehow, but she didn¡¯t want to expose her weaknesses that badly. The more angry she got at him, the more desperate she would look. ¡°It¡¯s boring.¡± It was the best protest she could muster. ¡®It boring,¡¯ she said, pretending to be a timid woman. Madeline became a little scared when the Count didn¡¯t respond to anything she said. She really thought that he might be Frankenstein¡¯s monster from the war trenches, as the rumors said. It seemed that he would stand up soon and strangle her. He didn¡¯t say anything for a really long time. As if the dead were looking at the living, he just looked at his wife without any vitality. He grinned. With a warped smile, he turned his face to Madeline. Then a part of his face appeared, disfigured and distorted by huge scars and burns. Unable to breathe, Madeline walked straight out of that cursed room. Her steps were fast as she walked down the hallway. She wanted to cry out like a child, but she was no longer a child. She was scared. No, she was more ashamed than scared. He just scared her like that and she ran away in fear. A coward. Madeline blamed herself. The next day, the butler of Nottingham mansion presented her with a small puppy. This was as good as an insult. ¡®I cannot be your husband, so if you are bored, take the puppy and play with it.¡¯ His gift was a declaration of sorts. Madeline held the trembling little puppy and closed her eyes. She just wanted to turn into a little ball and disappear from the world. * * * Madeline was back to seventeen years old now. She couldn¡¯t accept the fact that Ian Nottingham was the man in front of her before the war destroyed him. She couldn¡¯t believe he was such a healthy man. She had never known him to be such a spirited man. It was a fact that Madeline didn¡¯t dare try to confirm or know. ¡°Are you sick?¡± There was a hint of annoyance in her father¡¯s voice. Now he seemed to want to buy Ian Nottingham¡¯s attention to the maximum. He wanted to show off his pretty daughter sooner. He didn¡¯t seem to think about how much that action would make the man laugh. Madeline, with older mental age and experience, found her father¡¯s actions to be very childish. She began to see little by little what she could not see before. She reflected on her previous life. Even before the war, the Nottingham enjoyed the most power in the country. Along with the great success of their investments in America, they even had the title of ¡°war heroes¡± and grew in stature. Although there was no war at this point in time, it was said that the family was still very powerful in the past. Of course, the head of that powerful Count family became an incredible recluse, and all sorts of rumors spread. Rumors that he was manipulating world affairs behind the scenes. Count Nottingham and his family company were dizzyingly wealthy, and Madeline couldn¡¯t even begin to estimate their wealth. She was able to buy everything she wanted in her previous life. Custom-made clothes from various designers. She could even get jewelry quickly if she wanted it. However, she quickly got tired of it. It had never happened before that her father would bring Ian Nottingham to her with his mouth full. The Loenfield and the Nottingham family knew each other but it was only a shallow exchange of one-sided knowledge of things by her father. The reason why Madeline was able to marry Ian Nottingham before her regression¡­. All because he was badly injured in the war. In fact, he was an opponent who couldn¡¯t be underestimated. No, frankly, even now she couldn¡¯t understand why he had chosen her. When Madeline was silent and lost in thoughts, the Baron let out a series of unsatisfied coughs. Ian Nottingham, who stared at him, opened his mouth. ¡°I have heard that the Baron is interested in riding.¡± It was a sudden change of subject, but the Baron was happy to bite the bait. Soon after, the two men talked about riding. About the difference between a hackney and a thoroughbred. They had a dialogue about what kind of harness they liked. The Baron had no athletic aptitude, but simply liked riding aesthetically. On the other hand, Ian who opened the conversation seemed to be more interested in the sport itself. It was an unexpected discovery for Madeline. It couldn¡¯t be said that Ian was active. He had been confined to the mansion for the entirety of their married life. He didn¡¯t walk around the mansion, he only stayed on the upper floors. He only went out to do business. The carriage soon arrived at the mansion while the two men were talking about horse breeds. * * * When Frederick, the head butler of the Loenfield family, saw the three of them, he bowed politely. ¡°Did you have a good trip?¡± ¡°Of course, Fred. I met Master Nottingham in London. I brought him all the way here because he was just in the area on business. Prepare the best refreshments for him. ¡°I will do as you ask.¡± Madeline tried to make up an excuse that she wasn¡¯t feeling well. But the Baron was unfazed. ¡®Play the piano, which you played very well. Show him the pictures.¡¯ There was a hint of coercion and pressure in the Baron¡¯s words. Whether it was the first time she had seen her father in ten years or not, it was annoying. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± (Ian) Ian Nottingham, for his part, first made his intentions clear. He seemed fine, and the bickering between the father and daughter was a bit irritating. ¡®I really don¡¯t understand you,¡¯ the Baron snapped at Madeline quietly, then disappeared into the parlor. However, Ian Nottingham did not give Madeline a glance. Chapter 3 *** Madeline stole a glance at the two men drinking tea as she walked up the stairs. By all accounts, it was a one-sided conversation. It was her father who did all the talking. Ian looked travel-tired and seemingly bored. His hair was thick and black. Long legs crossed, fingers tapping, a relaxed figure as he listened to the Baron¡¯s words. Madeline had never seen her ex-husband like that before. She breathed a sigh of relief. She hoped she would never see him again once he left the mansion. She repeated as she climbed the stairs. ¡®Let¡¯s not see each other again, even in our dreams. It wasn¡¯t a good relationship. We¡¯ll be happier if we¡¯re separate.¡¯ Before the night was over, Ian left the Baron¡¯s mansion in his carriage. Seeing the carriage disappear into the distance, Madeline prepared to go to bed. The wind was cold. ¡®Perhaps I¡¯m doing something wrong.¡¯ Perhaps she had to actively intervene in the man¡¯s life now that she was getting a new life. But the worries were fleeting. She did not have the extra power to save him in this life. Starting with not being tied to him, Madeline was going to start her life over one by one. * * * -26-year-old Madeline. (The past) Four years hav passed. She has been married to Ian for 4 years now. Four years she has been locked in this mansion.. And, four years the world has changed rapidly. Reading the newspaper the butler had given her, Madeline was amazed at everything. What was happening in London transcended Madeline¡¯s imagination. Women cut their hair as short as a boy¡¯s and walked around in skirts that showed their knees. Men and women alike would gather in one place to dance. The dance halls were not like the elegant ballrooms of the old society. American jazz was whirlwind popular. If her father knew about this, he would have been terrified, but what could he do? He died and those who lived will only move on. No one could change the flow of time. It was inevitable that the aristocracy would disappear into history. The world really changed quickly after the war. Like a board on a gramophone, like a spinning wooden horse. Only Madeline seemed to stay in the past. She felt like an audience member sitting in a theater that had finished showing the film. Rather, she wondered if she was more isolated than Ian Nottingham. She may be taking it easy in this birdcage-like prison without realizing it herself. Regardless of the changes in the world, she had always been materially blessed here. Shortly after she arrived here at Nottingham¡¯s mansion, Madeline began to create a rose garden. To be honest, at first she had some kind of childish expectations. Sne thought that one day, if the garden in this ruined mansion was brought to life, Count Nottingham would get better. She hoped he, who was physically disabled, would enjoy looking at the roses. She hoped that he would feel pure beauty and life, and that he would be relieved of some of his pain. It seemed good to watch the roses grow and talk about them with each other. Now she knew that it was a useless hope. The Count was thoroughly indifferent to her interests. It was sad to see that it was his utmost good will to ignore even that. Thus, this project was just a way to pass the time for her own enjoyment. A small hobby that protected her from the noise of the times. It was nothing more, nothing less. ¡°Hello, Mr. Homer.¡± Ben Homer was the gardener at Nottingham mansion. He was the only servant hired directly by Madeline when she heard there was no one to tend the garden. It was a rare permission granted by the man who wished to keep all his servants thoroughly under his control. ¡°Why, Lady?¡± Ben Homer approached Madeline. He was a surprisingly delicate old man, despite his rugged appearance. When she saw him carefully handling the buds with his crude fingers, she naturally felt a surge of respect for him. ¡°Doesn¡¯t this branch somehow look like someone broke it on purpose?¡± It was a gorgeous cream-colored Mansfield rose. A carefully nurtured flowering branch had been broken off. It was obvious that someone had deliberately broken it. ¡°Oh, it looks like it. That¡¯s outrageous.¡± The old man clicked his tongue. ¡°People don¡¯t even walk around here. Who¡­?¡± The Nottingham mansion was famous in the area as the ¡®Cursed haunted mansion¡¯. Even the villagers were afraid to visit the house because of the stories about the deaths of people in the family, cursed by the spirits of the Victorian era. In fact, Ian Nottingham, the master of the house, was much more frightening than the Victorian spirits. He would not be interested, but in the village the Count was the main character of all kinds of monstrous tales. There were rumors that he was a bloodthirsty pagan, and there were stories that he spoke with the ghosts of his dead siblings. It was strange to trespass on such a man¡¯s land just to get a single rose. Who could it be? Madeline felt more strange than offended that the rose was broken. If someone plucked it, she hoped that one flower would bring them happiness. Madeline just kept silent with a simple wish. * * * -17-year-old Madeleine. (The present) Madeline went back and forth between hope and despair dozens of times a day. At 17, she had to debut. She will soon present herself in London¡¯s society. But if she continued like this, her own debut was bound to be ruined. It was a future that she knew but could not change. The reason why Madeline Loenfield¡¯s social debut was was because of the war that would soon break out. It would be only a few months away, it was doubtful what could be changed at this point. She would not have to meet Count Nottingham, but her father¡¯s bankruptcy and suicide seemed inevitable. She had to admit it frankly. She and her father, Baron Loenfield, were outdated dinosaurs. It was perhaps only natural that they should disappear into history. Therefore, they had to live with the times. Madeline stayed up all night recording the family¡¯s money and property. There was no way she could understand accounting methods such as double-entry bookkeeping, so she had to make lists. She wrote down the expenses of the house on one side and the assets of the house on the other. The conclusion was obvious¡­spending had to be greatly reduced. If they sell the house, sell the estate, and live in a small cottage, they might be able to survive. The house had to be sold when there was someone willing to buy it. She didn¡¯t think she would get a decent price if she sold it to the Americans now. But the most important thing was to correct Baron Loenfield¡¯s habit of spending and gambling. That seemed like something that would be hard to change even if the sky split in two. Madeline was sitting in the waiting room, brooding, when the Baron came to her. ¡°Madeline, my daughter. You must finally present yourself, mustn¡¯t you?¡± ¡°¡­¡­.¡± She just now came to the conclusion that they should also dispose of their London townhouse. The look in her father¡¯s eyes was odd. He had a very handsome face for some to see, but to Madeleine he only looked sly, as if he were plotting an artifice. But what needed to be said had to be said. ¡°Should I go to London?¡± The social world would soon collapse anyway. Her father¡¯s face twisted with astonishment when he heard her words. ¡°Are you depressed these days, my dear?¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°You spend all day fumbling with papers and nagging about cutting back on spending. Hey, that¡¯s not like you. It¡¯s already strange that you¡¯re acting like a commoner, you won¡¯t even get married. Are you going to be a nun?¡± ¡°I never said anything about not getting married¡­..¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you say you won¡¯t be making your social debut? Did you have a fianc¨¦ that you had decided on? Madeline. Get a grip. If you have a secret lover¡­¡± ¡°There is no such thing!¡± Madeline was really starting to get angry now. No matter how much she tried to make his father look good, he had gone too far. ¡°I set up a townhouse in London, and it was all for you.¡± (Baron) ¡°Now that the subject is out, we should sell the townhouse.¡± (Madeline ) ¡±Nonsense!¡± (Baron) ¡°And if you plan to invest in wine, don¡¯t.¡± (Madeline) Now she was a totally distraught daughter. But if she was going to throw out her dignity and her appearance anyway, she should have thrown them out properly. Her father, who got hit but the mark with Madeline¡¯s words, grabbed the back of his neck as his blood pressure rose. ¡°No, how do you know that? I have never told you about my business ¡­¡­¡± (Baron) ¡°That investment has no future.¡± (Madeline) ¡°I don¡¯t know if you read my letters secretly, but that is truly despicable and disappointing behavior. It was a decision to be made through Mr. Morton, the attorney, and no bother. It is not a subject of interest to a Lady.¡± (Baron) Madeline jumped up. Even without looking in the mirror, it was obvious how her face looked. ¡°If father pays for that liquor business, I¡¯ll¡­¡­¡± ¡°¡­¡­.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t go out into the social world. Forever!¡± ¡°Hmmm.¡± The Baron was utterly stunned by the harsh words that came out his daughter¡¯s mouth. The noble, elegant, gentle, and kind Madeline Loenfield had become a vulgar commoner in the Baron¡¯s eyes. ¡°I will not even marry.¡± ¡±¡­what? That¡¯s too much. Madeline!¡± Her father started talking at length about how good the chateau arrangements were in France and how believable the farmer was. They didn¡¯t need it. The land would be ashes by war anyway. Madeline said with clear pronunciation. ¡°If father continues to be stubborn, I don¡¯t have a choice. I¡¯ll become a nun.¡± ¡°Madeline Loenfield! This is unbearable! You are grounded!¡± Her father started screaming. ¡®¡¯I¡¯ll be grounded forever, I don¡¯t have a dowry anyway, and I can live as a celibate.¡¯¡¯ Madeline shrugged and went straight up to her room. Her father was yelling at her from behind. And so began two weeks of intense hunger strike. There was nothing the Baron could do. The social season was about to begin. In the midst of all this, the Baron retracted his investment decision, perhaps fearing that his daughter would go on a fasting struggle with her hair lost, or indeed become a nun. He burned the contract and even sent a letter to the lawyer in front of Madeline. In any case, he was a man who loved his daughter dearly. His weakness saved himself this time. Although she announced the hunger strike, Madeline secretly went down to the kitchen at night to eat crumbs. Having stopped a definitive doom, Madeline Loenfield felt a little relieved, if not completely. Can she just sell the mansion, the townhouse, and the estate now? Perhaps that would prevent bankruptcy. And then she will marry a good man and live happily ever after¡­. Would that be the end of it? They will live happily together. And then? Somehow, she felt extremely anxious in the back of her mind. ¡®¡­¡­Madeline, you are under no obligation to save others.¡¯ There was no reason for her to dare to step forward and help Ian Nottingham with his unfortunate fate. However. At this rate, Ian would be going to go to war, and he would get shot, get burned, and seriously injured in mind and body. If only she could say one word and change that future¡­. Chapter 4 *** *At the beginning I forgot to mention the author¡¯s note : *T/N: Songs, artists, authors, books, quotes¡­. mentioned in this novel are from real authors. This novel took place before and after WW I. *** ___ Madeline, age 24. (The past) From waking up to going to sleep again, life was lonely for Madeline Loenfield. There were no servants around her, except for the caretaker of the garden. Still, she was provided with good food, hot tea, and a comfortable place to sleep. It was a convenience calculated with precision to avoid even the slightest inconvenience. Madeline thought she was like the mythical Psyche. Psyche was served by formless ghosts in a temple dedicated as a monstrous offering. Madeline was also in a similar situation because she was cared for by silent shadows in the mansion. Mythological metaphors came to her mind many times. She thought of Crete¡¯s labyrinth as she wandered around the mansion. There were numerous rooms in the viciously large space, and each room had a different story. Secrets she must not know. These were memories that would disappear under the dust. And just as there was a minotaur at the center of the labyrinth, there was a Count at the heart of the mansion. The floor where the Count lived was a forbidden place. It was a place where only a fixed fraction of servants could enter and leave. Madeline, despite being his wife, did not visit that floor. Although the Count did not forbid Madeline to come and go, she felt the unspoken pressure that said ¡°This is not the place for you.¡± It was also an unspoken rule at Nottingham Mansion that she was not to engage with the Count, just as he was not to engage with her. There were many portraits in the mansion. Ian Nottingham was the 10th Count, so it had to go back hundreds of years. Portraits of men and women in Tudor-style clothing were visible. But it was the photographs that caught her eye the most. They were small black-and-white photographs placed beside the glamorous portraits of the successive heads of the family. Among them was a photo of a boy in a sailor suit, smiling brightly. His thick black hair grew randomly, and his expression was happy. Among the solemn portraits, this photo stood out as a very different one. The bright, mischievous face had a mean smile on it. The boy was Eric Nottingham, the younger brother of the Count, a fact Madeline learned three years after staying at the mansion. He had died in Belgium in the war when he was 20 years old. Ian Nottingham must have heard the news in the trench. Alongside the picture of the boy was a picture of a beautiful girl. She was a cold beauty with dark hair. She was the Count¡¯s sister as well. Her arrogant, noble nose and tight lips seemed to prove her pride. She was the same age as Madeleine when she was killed in an automobile accident. It was said that just before the war broke out, the car she was in with her lover flipped over. Of course, there was more backstory there. It was a story that was passed down like gossip in secret in social circles. It was a story that had now become legendary. According to the gossip, Isabel Nottingham deliberately swerved and drove her car under a bridge. The successive misfortunes of the three Nottingham siblings seemed to be the subject of a rather famous conversation in social circles. Rumors were circulating that it was due to a curse at the mansion or the graves of the Catholics that their ancestors had uncovered. Of course, no one was shameless enough to ask Madeline about it publicly, but since she was not involved in any social activities, rumors gave birth to rumors, which grew in magnitude. From what Madeline saw, their unhappiness was nothing special. But just because they were not special misfortunes did not mean they were trivial. Every time she looked at the picture, she found herself involuntarily feeling sorry for the Count. This was a labyrinth. It was an old banquet table where wealth, fame, and history live on. Ian Nottingham was a ghost wandering endlessly in that labyrinth. And the conclusions reached were always the same. Madeline was not Theseus. No one was free. So there was no need for cheap sympathy. *** Madeline was not curious from the beginning. She wanted to make it work. She wanted to help the man. She eventually realized that it was only a matter of hope, but before that she was full of motivation. She wandered around the mansion, rummaging through portraits and photographs, lost in her imagination. This was when she had not yet realized the shadow of death that hung over Nottingham mansion. Madeline even sneaked around the third floor where the Count lived. She felt she had to know him as well as possible in order to help her husband. She asked the butler and the old servants, but received no satisfactory replies. They just said, ¡°Yes, I suppose so. I am sorry.¡± They only repeated these three things. She had to find out for herself. The rooms, with the exception of the study where the Count used, contained stories she did not know. It had long been empty, but the signs of use revealed that someone had lived there at one time. She walked around the room, trying to analogize the owner of the room. This room was definitely Eric Nottingham¡¯s room. She could see several model airplanes and globes¡­ Madeline¡¯s favorite room in the mansion was the room with the piano. It was a very lovely place, it might have been Isabel¡¯s room. The cream-colored wallpaper, the fine piano, and the beautiful rococo paintings hanging here and there were indicative of Isabel¡¯s taste. ¡°She was a lover of all things pretty.¡± Perhaps she and Isabel could have made good friends. Leaving her unfulfilled dreams behind, Madeline sat down at the piano. She had played the piano quite avidly since childhood. The reason was simple. She loved the beauty of it. Madeline Loenfield adored the Romantic artists. She enjoyed discussing art and romance with her father. Madeline cheekily wanted to be a pianist. When she was seven years old? That was when a player in the Royal Orchestra told her that Madeline had ¡°absolute pitch¡± and praised her with a glib ¡°genius.¡± If it weren¡¯t for her father¡¯s cynicism, I might have walked the path of a musician. She remembered clearly what her father said. He said that Madeline¡¯s talent was half-hearted and that she would never be a fine musician. It was twisted cynicism; it was jealousy. He also said that artistic activities that confuse the spirit of noble women could not be encouraged. Madeline Loenfield was in great shock for a while when she heard her father say those words. It got better in time, but it was enough to dampen her passion for the piano. ¡®He¡¯s probably right,¡¯ Now that she thought about it, her father said the right thing. She quit because she wasn¡¯t that talented anyway. If she had really been a genius, she wouldn¡¯t have let go until the end. Leaving the bitter thought behind, Madeline sat down at the piano. Her fingers naturally found their places and she sank into her own little bubble. ¡°Mysterious Barricade¡± by Francois Couperin. Madeline began to play her favorite piece. The piano, long untouched and untuned, began to produce a melody, The bubble became more and more solid. She began to immerse herself in the performance to the point of forgetting that she was in the mansion. And it was then. Boom! The door opened with a bang. Madeline hurriedly removed her hands from the keyboard. When she turned around, she saw the vampire-shaped Count standing at the door. ¡°Get out.¡± ¡°¡­¡­¡± Madeline¡¯s face paled. The Count¡¯s cold frosty order came down again. ¡°Get out, didn¡¯t you hear?¡± His thick brow furrowed. A man with a limp approached Madeline. The man was huge, even as he hunched. With each step he took, Madeline¡¯s heart tightened. ¡°Do I have to bring you out myself?¡± ¡°What did I do wrong?¡± Madeline protested in a crawling voice. ¡®I am the Countess of this house and the things here are mine too.¡¯ ¡°It is not your fault¡­..¡± The man gave a low, cavernous sigh. For a brief moment, his eyes hesitantly wavered. It was the first moment she found human anguish in the man. But it was short-lived, for he ordered Madeline again. ¡°Don¡¯t come here again.¡± The next day, the door to the piano room was locked. Madeline was so frustrated and ashamed that she almost cried. It was as if she had been deprived of the pleasures of life that she had finally found. Her desire to help the Count clashed with her desire to never see him again. Her face burned with anger when she thought of the complicated expression on his face as he looked at her. The anger was soon given up. Her mouth was bitter. * * * A week later, a small commotion broke out in the front yard of the mansion. Madeline moved forward wondering about the sounds of people she hadn¡¯t heard in a long time. Workers were carrying a huge grand piano into the mansion. A curious Madeline questioned Charles, the footman. ¡°What is that?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a piano. Madam.¡± ¡°I know it¡¯s a piano. I¡¯m asking why it¡¯s here.¡± Madeline¡¯s voice became sharp. She had to know if the Count allowed it. Charles tilted his head as if he was in a difficult situation. ¡°¡­The Count¡­¡­¡± ¡°¡­¡­.¡± He whispered to Madeline, as if telling her a secret story. ¡°It is a gift from the Count to madam.¡± The Count was an unknown person. After getting angry, he always gave her a gift. Madeline¡¯s heart sank. Did it mean he was sorry? No. Apologies are made in person. This would be treating her like a pet dog. Grrrr. Cory growled at her feet. It seemed nervous because of the strangers. Madeline lifted the puppy and held it in her arms. *** *Ian Nottingham- the Count- had a younger brother Eric Nottingham, and a younger sister Isabel Nottingham. Chapter 5 *** ¡ªMadeline, 17 years old. (The present) The time had flown by and it was May. This meant that London¡¯s social season was about to begin. And the start of the social season meant that Madeline¡¯s debutante was approaching. But Madeline was unperturbed. It wasn¡¯t her first time, and she knew her social debut would not be very successful. War was war, and even putting that aside, it was a season without substance. I only remembered that it was hectic with matching dresses and learning to dance. And how much more money would be spent on the debutante? It was foolish to pretend that the social world was everything without knowing the misfortune that was to come. Whether Madeline was depressed or not, the Baron was buoyed by the thought of going to London. He felt good about getting together with friends to hunt and play poker. ¡®All the good gentlemen must be in London.¡¯ Madeline said sarcastically inwardly. * * * She could not break her father¡¯s will to sit in the train¡¯s special compartment. Madeline¡¯s mouth was tight. She couldn¡¯t understand herself playing this foolish game. But a promise was a promise. She had to think of it as the price for preventing her father from making the bad investment. Madeline barely suppressed her cynical heart . But no matter how hard she tried to put it out of her mind, she was depressed by the thought of the war and social season. ¡®I¡¯d hate to be invited to that tedious gathering of the ladies.¡¯ It was a complicated ritual and formality. Madeline lost her appetite at the thought of once again being tormented by the tactics of ladies and gentlemen who subtly disrespected her because she was from the countryside. Conversely, dealing with the bourgeois, who had illusions about the title of nobility, was also not very palatable. When the train arrived at the station, the platform was swarming with people. It was a bustling city, the exact opposite of the countryside. There were cast-iron cars on the streets and posters of movie theaters¡­ Her heart really burst at that moment, thinking about how much fun she had when she first came to London. Even now, she still felt very excited. London had always been a part of her mind. ¡°I hate those cars. Those scraps of iron are really ugly. Madeline, hold on to this father¡¯s arm.¡± ¡°¡­¡­.¡± A distant relative, a Marchioness, who lived in London, would be her ¡°guardian¡± all the time in social gatherings. Guardianship was not a thing, not even in Victorian times. Madeline sighed. She was already tired of knowing how much the Marchioness would torment her in her new self-appointed role as mother. Once she arrived at the townhouse, she would have to get a good night¡¯s sleep, thinking she would look around London tomorrow. **** London¡¯s social gatherings began to ripen around May and reached its peak in the summer. The ladies and gentlemen of the upper classes had been indulging themselves in clubs, banquets, balls, and parties. People seemed especially excited that year. Intellectuals grandiose that war would never happen, people praised the never-ending peace and acted as if the sparkling present would last forever. Movie posters, music, dance¡­. Hot-faced men and women exchanged words of love in Hyde Park, and demonstrations and debates were actively taking place all over the city. London was a festival. A festival that would not end until it ended. Madeline was alone in that mirage. It was not very good to know the future. Besides, no one would believe that there would be an inevitable and terrible war. How could there be anything pleasant about knowing such a horrible fact? No matter how much she was in the middle of the banquet hall where the party was now in full swing. Madeline stepped back behind a pillar and sipped her champagne. Her awareness of the ¡°debutante in audience with the king¡± was over in the blink of an eye, and she was taken from one seat to another for several days, to the point of losing all her energy. The Marchioness, who claimed to be her ¡°guardian,¡± was nagging a lot then and now. Madeline was just now realizing that it was very difficult to play the role of an innocent 17-year-old girl. In the past, she would have tried to look good while she was here, but now she didn¡¯t want to do that again. It only seemed very strange to see people fighting over the etiquette that would soon become old-fashioned. Now she almost forgot who she was attending at the party. ¡®Am I being too pessimistic? Anyone else¡­.¡¯ Madeline Loenfield stood in the distance behind the banquet hall and watched people dance in pairs. Gentlemen came to her and asked her to dance, but each time Madeline politely refused. After four times of refusing, people no longer bothered her. After seeing Madeline behave coldly, the Marchioness¡¯s face turned rotten in real time. But it could not be helped. Madeline really wanted to bring her life back to life, not to redo the role of a socially decorated doll. She needed time alone to think about what to do with the life that had come to her again. It would be nice to have a profession, write, play the piano, and be responsible for herself. She wanted to develop what she had been thinking about all these years. She wanted to live like the people she read about in the newspaper. She wanted to do all the things she couldn¡¯t do because of her husband. It was when she was killing time with a dull stretch of imagination. A huge shadow hung beside her. ¡°Huh?¡± Madeline turned her head and there stood the source of all her problems. ¡°¡­¡­.¡± People¡¯s eyes began to focus on the two of them. It was only natural, since this was the sight of the heir to a wealthy, high status Count talking to a lady who was just making her debut in the social world. But it was not a luxury Madeline could afford to worry about. ¡°¡­You look rather bored at the party, Lady Loenfield.¡± ¡°¡­¡­.¡± Madeline¡¯s gaze shook as she heard a voice that sounded both familiar and unfamiliar. She met an unexpected person in an unexpected place. Someone whom she both hated and stimulated her guilt. Her former husband. The young Ian Nottingham looked mischievous. Naughty Ian Nottingham. It was a very raw sight for Madeline. Ian Nottingham seemed to consider Madeline¡¯s confusion an embarrassment. He spoke to her without a care in the world. ¡°I saw the Lady turn down the gentlemen¡¯s dance requests several times. It was quite amusing. To see their faces with embarrassment.¡± ¡°¡­¡­.¡± ¡°It seems that this entertainment is very boring to the Lady.¡± The man¡¯s lips drew a gentle arc line. The confidence characteristic of a young man who has been on the road to success sprang from his face. ¡°¡­That¡¯s not true.¡± The tongue in Madeline¡¯s mouth froze and did not move properly. Her cheeks burned bright red. ¡°As a gentleman, I know it is not polite to speak to a lady so soon, but please understand that we have already spoken to each other the other day.¡± Ian quickly added. ¡®I¡¯m sure we have.¡¯ Madeline tried her best to concentrate on the dancing men and women to the maximum extent possible. Her mind was confused. How could this man be approaching her now? Madeline had been to this party in the first timeline. At that time she did not meet Ian Nottingham. For Madeline, Ian was an unreachable opponent, and for Ian, Madeline was just a social newcomer. It was no wonder why they had not spoken to each other before. But, why did it happen this time? Why would he talk to her? And wasn¡¯t the last encounter at the Loenfield mansion quite unpleasant? Madeline couldn¡¯t understand the underlying reason for the man¡¯s sudden approach. Madeline turned her head and looked at him. Behind Ian Nottingham, an army of gentlemen had gathered and they were laughing. They were Ian Nottingham¡¯s friends and were uniformly elegantly attired. They were leading men of politics and business. ¡°¡­¡­.¡± Ah, it was then that everything became clear to Madeline. With his natural born confidence, Ian didn¡¯t just approach Madeline for no reason. It was quite amusing to see Madeline standing in the corner and refusing the men¡¯s dance requests. So his friends made a bet to see if Ian could convince Madeline to dance. Ian¡¯s motive was simply curiosity or he knew he would win. Perhaps he wondered what that woman was, because she had been cold to him in the mansion and she was cold to him at the party. Since he met her at the party like this, he felt like he had to make an example of her to those around him. Once Madeline came to that conclusion in her head, she felt much more at ease. The liquor must have gotten the better of her, for Madeline took a steadying breath to deal with him. ¡°Master Nottingham, doesn¡¯t this sight seem strange to you? ¡°Strange? It¡¯s a fun sight to me.¡± Curiously, Ian tilted his head to the side. Thick eyebrows drew a pleasant slant. ¡°No one knows what will happen in the future.¡± It¡¯s funny how people enjoy themselves without knowing about the war, the diseases, the unfortunate that¡¯s coming their way. Madeline mumbled. Ian Nottingham laughed. He seemed to have guessed that Madeline was still a strange woman. He replied pleasantly. ¡°The Lady is right. We don¡¯t know what the future holds. So we have to enjoy the present more, don¡¯t we?¡± The man was completely oblivious to the contrition building up in Madeline¡¯s voice. ¡°Master Nottingham¡­¡± ¡°The Lady seems to have fallen into the solemnity of the past. Let¡¯s relax a little. Just because you don¡¯t enjoy yourself doesn¡¯t mean you can avoid misfortune.¡± ¡°I am not nervous. I just thought it would be a waste of time to waste time on socializing for the sake of pretense and falsehood.¡± Madeline protested belatedly. ¡°Well¡­.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t mean to imply that all of this isn¡¯t worth it. I don¡¯t want to condemn the people who dance. I just want to¡­. I just don¡¯t think it should be like this.¡± Madeline felt silent after saying so. A waltz echoing through the banquet hall filled the silence between the two. She bowed her head in embarrassment when she realized she had spoken too much in front of the man. Ian broke the silence first. He said, full of confidence. ¡°What if all the Lady wants is to dance with me?¡± ¡°What?¡± Madeline raised her head. She looked up at the man. Under the flickering lights of the chandelier¡­. There was Ian Nottingham, without a single complex or intention, encouraging her to dance with a bright smile. With no knowledge of the horrible future that was coming to him, the man was simply living in the present moment. He held Madeline¡¯s gloved hand lightly, and he asked in a very plain, somewhat pleasant tone. He lightly pressed the fingertips of Madeleine¡¯s gloves . He was ¡°Sincerely, Lady Madeline Loenfield. Would you like to dance a song with me?¡± Chapter 6 *** ¡ª I once thought of his life as a slow suicide. A life of separating himself from the world, abandoning others, and waiting for death comfortably in the fort. What joy is there in such a life? It was very unfortunate. * * * Earlier. ¡°Look at that woman.¡± George puffed on his cigar and laughed. Ian shrugged. ¡°Too many women, I don¡¯t know who you are talking about.¡± It was a boring party for ¡°prestigious¡± gentlemen to begin with. It was about a gathering where social newcomers could mingle with each other. However, Ian had an obligation to protect his sister from those of lesser quality. Tonight was the time to show some family love. There was a woman in the direction of George Colhaz¡¯s wink. A woman leaning diagonally against a pillar with a bored expression on her face. She was sipping champagne with her blonde hair neatly raised up. She had a very young face but a pessimistic look in her eyes as if she had realized everything in the world. At the sight of her, Ian rubbed his cigarette out on the tray. George began to mumble. ¡°I¡¯ve been counting down the number of times that young lady has turned down the dance request.¡± ¡°No, it seems you have nothing better to do.¡± William, next to him, laughed with astonishment. ¡°A total of six times. More than six times she refused to dance.¡± ¡°She¡¯s just made her debut, so she¡¯s not desperate.¡± ¡°She may already have a partner.¡± William casually spoke. Ian said nothing. It was only then that he remembered the woman. The first boring encounter. The Baron of the old country house and his daughter Madeline Loenfield. It was the first impression of a typical anachronistic rural feudal aristocratic family. Baron Loenfield was unsightly, and not an interesting man. As for his daughter¡­ There were obvious signs that she was blatantly avoiding Ian. It didn¡¯t matter either way on his part. He didn¡¯t like the shy type either. But, why does Madeline Loenfield in a light blue dress look different to him now? She stepped back from the banquet and acted like she was watching a movie. That contemplative gaze was interesting. ¡°I think I¡¯m going to talk to her.¡± George murmured. ¡°Suddenly? That¡¯s not very polite.¡± William stopped George quickly. ¡°I don¡¯t think there is such rudeness these days. This isn¡¯t the Victorian era. Take a good look, and wait for me and learn.¡± It was the moment when George was about to get up from his seat. Ian walked out before him. ¡°Oh. Look at this. You¡­¡± Ian heard George¡¯s exasperated voice from behind him. Ian Nottingham made the first move without even knowing it. It was inevitable, as he always had to get what he wanted first. * * * They danced. The woman¡¯s slender body spun around in his arms. Her face glowed colorfully under the chandelier light. It was solemn or startlingly immature. He liked the woman who alternated between diverse faces. The woman who mumbled things that made no sense, the woman who looked at him like she was sad, she was quite an interesting partner. Interesting and funny was important to him. For him, many things were boring, so this little curiosity was precious. He was young and had never experienced a serious failure in his life. Everything was on the road to success. And that too at a very rapid rate. All things in the world were in his hands, so much so that the unpredictable ¨C but always within controllable limits ¨C danger was worth it. Like, for example, dancing with a woman who didn¡¯t like him at all. Ian danced the waltz with Madeline Loenfield several times. He could feel the eyes of the entire sitting room piercing them. Annoying, but bearable. The woman¡¯s hands trembled terribly throughout the dance. Her gaze blurred as she looked at him but not at him. He gently held the woman¡¯s hand. Why does she tremble? It¡¯s all right. Whatever the reason. The fact that he was holding her hand now was what was important. * * * ¡°You finally danced.¡± ¡°Yes.¡­¡± ¡°One after another.¡± The Marchioness opened her eyes and pursued Madeline. ¡°Ah¡­yes¡­I¡¯m sorry I have the amazing Master Nottingham all to myself.¡± The Marchioness was always angry at Madeline for why she wore tacky clothes, why she was quiet, and was about to be scolded just by breathing. ¡±But¡­¡± In the carriage, the Marchioness took a quick look at Madeline. Her expression was a half mixture of calmness and satisfaction. ¡°Madeline Loenfield.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°¡­¡­The Nottingham family is magnificent, honorable, respectable, and wealthy.¡± ¡°¡­yes.¡± It was almost like ¡°the earth is round.¡± The wealth of the Nottingham family only grew stronger as time went on. In fact, it was the same then. There were other people in line wanting to marry them besides Madeline. It was like, ¡°I don¡¯t care if he¡¯s a man who can¡¯t move himself properly.¡± Many of the families wanted to marry him for their daughters. There must have been several reasons why Madeline was chosen from among many reserve brides. No family background, age, and no backbones. Etc. etc. It didn¡¯t really matter now. ¡°How about¡­.¡± The Marchioness lightly pushed Madeline¡¯s shoulder. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Go for it¡­¡± The Marchioness¡¯ words caused Madeline to look at her hurriedly. The woman fanned her hands and began to look away. ¡®Ugh. It¡¯s really ridiculous.¡¯ ¡°¡­¡­ as I told you. We only danced a few dances.¡± Madeline felt tired, thinking how much fuss her father would make if he knew this story. She was sincerely beyond tired. Why was it so drastic just because she had danced with a man once? Ian Nottingham danced with other women besides Madeline. Nevertheless, people seemed to see only what they wanted to see. ¡®From now on I must keep as much distance as possible. Somehow keep the lines of movement from overlapping.¡¯ Madeline swore again. * * * How long can one¡¯s commitment last? Madeline sighed, for the society of London was too small to keep its vows. The Nottinghams were too powerful to ignore, and it was unavoidable that she would meet the man every time she appeared in a powerful position. Moreover, with the exception of Ian Nottingham, it was the society itself that wore her down. There, gentlemen and ladies were like peacocks boasting their feathers to each other. They competed with each other as if to show off how much they could use and how much more exalted they were. The emerging class was the emerging class, and the declining families played their roles in their own way¡­. Madeline smiled mechanically as she took on the role of the daughter of a declining family. She laughed so much that her mouth twitched. The dinner party was over and everyone was gathering for after-dinner drinks. The room was bright at night when the lights came on. People¡¯s white teeth glistened under them. ¡°Art is corrupt. There is nothing left but nudity.¡± The man sitting in front of her had a vein popped up on his neck. The man named George Colhaz was a promising lawyer with brown hair. He kept his appearance, but he talked too much. ¡°And it¡¯s terribly ugly. Not all women in France look like that.¡± Picasso, Matisse. Madeline also knew the people George Colhaz was talking about. After the war they became very famous. Even Madeline, who was ignorant of the world, knew the price of their paintings had gone through the roof. She thought that if she bought one of their paintings now, it would be a great investment. But she could not afford to worry about such things right now. It was hard to concentrate on George¡¯s words because she kept glancing across the table. There was Ian Nottingham. The man did not speak to her today. Instead, he was talking to the woman sitting next to him. Isabel Nottingham. Ian Nottingham¡¯s sister, ill-fated and unluckily famous in her previous life. Isabel Nottingham was as elegant as seen in the picture of that mansion. Her eyebrows, long white neck, and a slightly husky voice, resembling her brother¡¯s. She was a model of a well-endowed woman. Madeline could see the intelligence and stubbornness in her eyes. As for Madeline, she couldn¡¯t help her gaze from continually wandering in that direction. She had never seen Isabel Nottingham alive and moving before. ¡°Hmmm.¡± After George Colhaz had coughed a few times, Madeline realized that she had not responded to his words. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know much about art.¡± Madeline smiled lightly. Now it was better to let the man in front of her make as much noise as he wanted. ¡°But there must be at least one painting of your favorite style, right?¡± ¡°¡­¡­¡± Madeline hesitated a bit. She didn¡¯t often say her preferences out loud. ¡°I like Edward Burne-Jones¡¯ paintings.¡± ¡°Hmm. Is that so?¡± The man smiled strangely. It was then. Suddenly, there was a clicking sound. Madeline turned around and saw Ian¡¯s sister, Isabel yelling at the top of her lungs. There were broken champagne glasses scattered on the floor. The short haired woman wiped away tears and screamed. ¡°It¡¯s not brother¡¯s place to tell me what to do!¡± ¡°Isabel, keep your voice down. There are many eyes¡­.¡± ¡°You always spend your time watching people¡¯s eyes.¡± ¡°Isabel.¡± Ian¡¯s expression was cold. His eyes were so sharp that Madeline couldn¡¯t believe he was someone who had danced with her before. The sight of it sent a shiver down her spine. The atmosphere of the dinner party instantly froze. Perhaps her brother¡¯s calm demeanor was unbearable or she was embarrassed, Isabel Nottingham hurried out of the banquet hall. She walked away, pushing past the people with large strides. Ian didn¡¯t get out of his seat. He continued eating as if nothing had happened. ¡°¡­.!¡± The sight of him made Madeline suddenly feel as if her whole body were paralyzed. ¡®When did Isabel die? I can¡¯t remember.¡¯ Madeline got up from her seat. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Please wait a moment.¡± Chapter 7 *** Madeline looked around. Downstairs, she saw Isabel getting her jacket back from a servant. Isabel¡¯s graceful neck, like that of a deer, was still red with anger. An impatient Madeline spoke first. Of course, there were no measures against what to do then. ¡°Miss Nottingham.¡± ¡°¡­?¡± Isabel Nottingham nervously turned around. Her face colored with irritation. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m busy. If it¡¯s urgent, please send a telegram.¡± She said. Then she turned away from Madeline completely. ¡°Please stop.¡± Madeline couldn¡¯t stand the awkwardness in her own voice. But the intuition was that she had to catch Isabel now. ¡°What is it¡­?¡± Madeline went down the stairs. She grabbed Isabel¡¯s hand and whispered low and fast. ¡°Are you going to see your lover?¡± ¡°¡­¡­ what is it? You.¡± Isabel¡¯s expression hardened. She grabbed Madeline¡¯s hand and glared at Madeline with cold eyes. ¡°You¡¯ve been eavesdropping on our conversation, haven¡¯t you?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°What do you mean no? Ha, yeah. I knew that my brother was surrounded by all kinds of things, but I didn¡¯t realize this was the situation. You seem to be Ian¡¯s follower, but you can¡¯t make him like you even if you nag me.¡± ¡°You are going to see Mr. Miloff, are you not?¡± Isabel¡¯s tongue clenched at the mention of her lover¡¯s name from Madeline. She didn¡¯t say anything for a while, as if in shock. ¡°¡­¡­.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I will never tell anyone else. Is it socialism or something¡­I¡¯m not a person who knows much about such things.¡± Madeline¡¯s face turned red. She knew she sounded like a crazy person. But if she let Isabel go, Isabel Nottingham would drive her car off the bridge. ¡­It was suicide under the circumstances. It was a tragic love affair that could not be achieved. Madeline wanted to prevent to the maximum extent possible the childish behavior of the young woman in front of her now. She didn¡¯t know if it would be now or later, but she didn¡¯t want to regret not preventing it now. She¡¯d preferred to be treated as a crazy woman. ¡°You¡¯re like my brother¡¯s dog¡­.¡± Isabel¡¯s face was full of frustration, anxiety, and anger. When she looked closer, she could see angry tears welling up at the corners of her eyes. Madeline froze a little, as if she were about to be punched in the face, but she continued calmly. ¡°Master Nottingham is a fine gentleman, but that man can be too stubborn. He is very good at controlling people.¡± ¡°But we don¡¯t need to get caught up in that control,¡± said Madeline, taking hold of the back of Isabel¡¯s trembling hand. She continued speaking calmly. ¡°As long as we don¡¯t do anything we regret, there is always tomorrow. I think it¡¯s better to calm down for now.¡± Madeline looked into Isabel¡¯s eyes with a determined expression. You can only promise tomorrow if you live now. She wanted to convince the woman in front of her as much as possible, even if she had to indulge the risk of looking like a crazy woman. It was then. Two men came downstairs with thumping footsteps. It was Ian and George. Ian¡¯s eyebrows twitched as he saw Madeline and Isabel holding hands with each other. He looked upset. ¡°Miss Loenfield, would you excuse us for a moment for a family conversation now?¡± ¡°¡­¡­ no. I¡¯m with Miss Loenfield.¡± Isabel said sternly. She grabbed Madeline¡¯s hand tightly. ¡°You¡¯d rather be with a strange woman you see for the first time than your brother?¡± (Ian) Madeline broke out in a cold sweat. ¡°¡­¡­.¡± Ian Nottingham¡¯s lips twisted relentlessly, unable to hide his displeasure. He descended the stairs and picked up his coat roughly. The man in the hat stared blankly at Isabel. ¡°Don¡¯t forget that every action has a price. Isabel.¡± He glanced at Madeline for a moment. ¡°Miss Loenfield. I don¡¯t know how long you two have known each other, but it¡¯s not very wise to meddle in the affairs of other people¡¯s family.¡± The look in his eyes was casually hostile. Madeline sighed when he finally left. She felt again that Ian was a man of many faces. That cold appearance was probably the closest to his true nature, she thought. Isabel looked at Madeline and whispered to her. ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on here, but you¡¯re not my brother¡¯s dog.¡± ¡°¡­¡­.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what kind of feelings you have for my brother, but¡­¡± It was a really unladylike way to speak. It was a far cry from the image Madeline had imagined of an elegant and charming lady. Isabel was an angry woman with a temper. But that didn¡¯t matter right now. ¡°If I have questions, I¡¯ll ask you later.¡± Isabel, who came to her senses late, gave a slight nod and left. Madeline felt far better as she watched her disappearing back. They kept getting tangled up like this, and nothing good ever came of it. Swallowing the ominous feeling, Madeline hurriedly called for the carriage. * * * ¡ª-Madeline, 26. (The past) ¡°Cory!¡± ¡°Cory!¡± ¡°Where are you, Cory?¡± It was a stormy night. Outside the mansion was hell. Madeline let out a high-pitched scream, but soon that terrible wind swallowed her voice. It was impossible to see an inch of the darkness. ¡°Ma¡¯am, please come in.¡± The footman Charles caught Madeline in distress. But Madeline did not care. ¡°I have to find Cory right away. I don¡¯t know where he¡¯s shivering in the cold.¡± Her hands were shaking. She felt as if she would never forgive herself if anything happened to her beloved dog, Cory. Cory was a terrier hound, a gift from the Count. He had generously offered it to her like an object since they had faced each other in the study. But Madeline did not want to think of Cory as such a ¡°compensation¡± or ¡°substitute¡± . The Count gave it to her with that intention. But that dog was innocent of any crime. Furthermore, it was true that Cory was loyal, and a great reliance for her lonely life in the mansion. Dogs have a beautiful soul that people do not have. Madeline found much comfort in the child. Such Cory was lost in the storm. Madeline¡¯s heart ached as if it were burning. ¡°Charles, you can come in. I will find it myself¡­¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t go in ¡°How can I leave the madam behind? Let¡¯s look for it when it clears up tomorrow.¡± While she was arguing with Charles, even Sebastian, the head butler, came out and started to stop Madeline. His tone was polite, but Madeline began to get angry at their apparent fear. There was only one reason they were afraid. ¡°Why? Do you think the Count would be angry?¡± She knew, too, that they were only speaking from a servant¡¯s point of view, but with Cory¡¯s disappearance, she lost her reason. ¡°If you are afraid of the Count, you need not worry. Do you think he would blink if I died and was found dead?¡± ¡°No, ma¡¯am, he would not do that. The Count should definitely be¡­.¡± It was then. The heavy doors opened on both sides. A long shadow began to seep out of the storm. ¡°Madeline.¡± With a long sigh, the man stood in front of Madeline. It had been a long time since he had stood so close to his wife. Madeline wondered if he had heard her conversation earlier. He looked like a vampire as he stood there with his back to the light leaking from the doorway. With his crutches, he looked as exhausted as a person nodding off in a nightmare. Shadows fell on his cheeks and the scars across his face. He looked down at Madeleine, stooping forward with a tired look in his eyes. ¡°Let¡¯s go in for now.¡± ¡°But Cory¡­.¡± ¡°Give it up.¡± ¡°¡­¡­.¡± His speech carried a heavy weight. ¡°You¡­how could you¡­?¡± She did not say it. It was a pet dog given to her by the man. ¡°A dog is just a dog. You can¡¯t have people getting hurt looking for a dog.¡± Whatever Madeline¡¯s anger, the Count remained superstitious. He shielded Madeline like a solid reef . ¡°Go back.¡± It was dark outside. * * * Madeline did not sleep a wink. The weather cleared up and she ran downstairs as soon as the sun appeared. The hem of her thin silk skirt kept bothering her. She was impatient to find Cory with the others as soon as possible. ¡°Woof!¡± Then she saw a remarkable sight. ¡°Woof!¡± A bright-eyed brown terrier Cory was wagging his tail in front of her. When Cory saw Madeline, he came up to her feet, wagging his short tail. His damp nose tickled her ankle. * * * A few days after Cory returned, the Count began to suffer greatly from an unexplained high fever. The house was in a state of emergency, and Madeline was nervous without realizing it. ¡°Is it pneumonia?¡± It was certainly chilly these days. The house was not heated as well as it was large and splendid. It was a problem that could not be solved no matter how many of the best architects stuck together. One room was too hot and the other as cold as ice. It was a very troublesome problem as the hostess of the house. ¡°¡­¡­.¡± Madeline stuck out her tongue and patted the playful Cory. She didn¡¯t feel happy. The house was breathtakingly quiet. The servants walked around quietly like assassins, and Madeline was the lone ghost left on the stage. The wealth and history of this place swallowed people. Madeline walked around the house. Only the loyal Cory followed her around. Little by little she began to investigate the cause of her discomfort. ¡°The Count is sick.¡± She thought he might have been upset by the words she spoke in frustration in the stormy night. The Count was always sick, but this time something was strange. [Please do not disturb the Count. He needs absolute stability¡­] Originally, it seemed that this fact should never be disclosed. How the Count had told the butler not to say anything and his face was full of fear. Madeline blinked her eyes. ¡®I think It¡¯s okay to go up and check once.¡¯ She concluded simply. Chapter 8 *** The past continued. Madeline looked down at Cory, and reflected on her memory. When Cory was found¡­ The dog¡¯s fur was a little damp, but there was not a speck of mud on it. When Madeline called a servant to inquire about the details, the story returned that Charles, a footman, took a risk and found the dog during the stormy night. Why would Charles do that? Perhaps the Count had given him an order? But the Count wouldn¡¯t go that far for a dog. But Madeline had no choice but to believe the story. She called Charles personally to thank him. Of course, she was going to give him a reward. But when Madeline handed him the envelope, Charles was very uncomfortable. ¡°Ma¡¯am, I just did what I had to do.¡± ¡°But¡­I feel bad that I put you in danger unnecessarily and¡­.¡± Madeline blushed. She was aware of how childishly she had behaved. ¡°No, I¡¯m fine. I really don¡¯t mind.¡± ¡°No, please accept it. Charles. It¡¯s how I feel.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll be in trouble if you do this.¡± Charles was at a loss. After arguing for a while, Charles eventually lost. Madeline also saw the act of giving money in this way as a tip. And shortly after, the Count was sick. Madeline decided to go up to the upper study to see the Count in person. It was not that she had anything to say to him about this. But he was her husband, and they would meet only if they had something in particular to say to each other as a couple. ¡®I think it would be better to confirm a lot of things directly.¡¯ There was also the idea of seeking a reconciliation ¨C or rather a truce ¨C in its own way. Because it was true that communication between her husband and herself was not going well. She would not be able to live like a ghost for the rest of her life. At that moment, as she headed for the Count¡¯s study, Sebastian, the chief butler, stopped her. Unlike his usual vague impression, he prevented Madeline with a stubborn face. His face turned red and blue as if he was angry with her. ¡°How can I help you, madam?¡± ¡°As a wife, I don¡¯t think I need another reason to go to see my husband.¡± Madeline was puzzled and spoke to him brusquely. As she looked at him sharply, he coughed a few times. Madelaine gave him a hard look between the eyes, and Sebastian hmmmed and ahhed. He coughed a few times. ¡°The Count¡­..he wants to be alone.¡± ¡°I understand. Then why don¡¯t you tell him I¡¯d like to see him?¡± ¡°¡­.¡± Sebastian shivered unexpectedly, freaked out. He looked from side to side and said again. ¡°Master Nottingham is having a hard time to receive guests today. If it is urgent, I can deliver your message¡­.¡± ¡°I am not a guest.¡± ¡°¡­¡­.¡± Sebastian¡¯s face turned red. He was aware that he had made a slip of his tongue. He began to stammer. ¡°The Count¡­.¡± ¡°I know. He doesn¡¯t even like being in the same place as me.¡± ¡°No! It¡¯s never like that¡­¡± Sebastian looked completely trapped. He sighed. ¡°Unfortunately, the Count is not feeling well at the moment¡­.¡± ¡°His illness makes me want to see him even more.¡± Madeline¡¯s voice rose. Of course, Ian Nottingham had a hard time moving due to injury. Nevertheless, it was hard to imagine him lying there sick. Of course, he was in a weakened state due to the aftereffects of the injury. ¡®¡¯What¡¯s wrong¡­¡± ¡°He¡¯s been feeling a little tired lately.¡± Sebastian was back to his usual expressionless butler. He begged Madeline in a pleading manner. ¡°Please don¡¯t disturb the Count. He has to be absolutely stable¡­¡± ¡°¡­¡­ is there anything I can do?¡± ¡°¡­¡­ The Count said he didn¡¯t want anyone to visit, especially the madam.¡± ¡®You don¡¯t particularly want to see me?¡¯ Madeline shook her head. Yes. This time she lost it again. ¡°If he was sick, it wouldn¡¯t matter if he didn¡¯t want to see me. That¡¯s too bad. I thought we could have a cup of tea together.¡± She said it lightly, but frankly she was worried. She wondered if his already injured and weakened body could survive a cold. ¡°Have you called a doctor?¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. We have taken the necessary steps, don¡¯t worry. The doctor has recommended absolute bed rest.¡± ¡°¡­¡­.¡± Madeline flinched a little at Sebastian¡¯s defensive attitude, which did not allow for even a moment¡¯s pause. As expected, he was the Count¡¯s servant. ¡°¡­If anything happens, be sure to let me know.¡± With those words the only thing left to say, Madeline had no choice but to turn around. But. * * * It was night. A pitch-dark night. A night where even the shadows kill their breath. The night at Nottingham Mansion was even darker than in other places. It was like a cave that sucked in all the light in the world. Madeline kept tossing and turning. Why was that? Her whole body felt sluggish and heavy. Her neck was stiff and sore. ¡°Do I have a cold too?¡± She sat up. Excruciating thirst, suffocation. A heaviness that seemed to press down on her chest and all over her body. She didn¡¯t know where that smoldering feeling originated. No, actually, she did know. [Go home.] This was what the man said to her. She couldn¡¯t stand to think of the silent emotions contained in that tired, gaunt face. Why did he look at her like that? ¡°Don¡¯t talk like you¡¯re worried about me. I hate you ! I hate you!¡± Madeline had tried many times to escape from this mansion, but each time she was caught by him. The man always looked for her. It was as if he had a magic crystal ball. She still got chills when she remembered the servant waiting for her at the London station. In the end, it was always Madeline who returned to the mansion on her own. There was never any coercion or intimidation of any kind. There was only a silent pressure. Gradually, the house became a huge prison. The mansion was a single room, and the Count was a fellow inmate and watchman. Everything was because of Ian. No, it had to be. Madeline got out of bed. She was dressed in a wool gown over a thin slip. Outside the room, it was dark except for a few dim lights in the hallway. There were still traces of the storm that had passed. There was the sound of violent winds crashing against the windows. Whoosh, whoosh, the sound of the wind was intense. Its sound, like a human wailing, was so desolate that Madeline shivered. Madeline¡¯s steps stopped at the stairs. She didn¡¯t know why she was worried in the first place. Her footsteps unexpectedly took her to the third floor of the ¡°forbidden place¡±. She climbed up the stairs with her small lamp. Closer and closer to the man¡¯s bedroom. Each step was heavy. Perhaps she wanted to make sure. Maybe she wanted to find comfort in seeing the man sick. What comfort? The comfort that since humans all die, he should die too and she could be set free? Or she wanted to see if he¡¯s alive? She was confused. Madeline did not know what she wanted to see. She stopped in front of a heavy wooden door. ¡°Argggg!¡± After standing still for a while, as soon as Madeline heard the screams coming from inside the room, she opened the door and quickly went inside. ¡°What is it¡­?¡± On the bed, the Count was crying, holding his head in his hands. ¡°Isabel¡­Isabel¡­Forgive me¡­¡± It wasn¡¯t weeping, it was closer to the wailing of a beast. The man in a fever was mumbling something incomprehensible. Madeline put her lamp on the small table and quickly went to the side of the bed. Was it a dangerous situation? The man lying on the bed was pale. His otherwise pale face was much whiter from cold sweat. His black hair was wet with sweat and stuck to his forehead. The scars were fuller distorted, and there was a dark shade of purple under his eyes. It was a dual appearance, a manly face but at the same time looking sickly and weak. Odd beauty. Madeline trembled with fear at the sight of this graceful figure, strangely twisted like a torch. The man kept moaning, as if he didn¡¯t know she had come near him. Madeline reached out her hand. She gently placed her palm on the man¡¯s pale forehead. ¡°It¡¯s hot.¡± It was as hot as if her hand had touched a warmed teapot. What should she do? She had never nursed anyone with a high fever, so Madeline didn¡¯t know what to do. She decided to bring him a cold hand towel. When she turned away and went to get a wet towel, a skinny, shaky hand caught her hand. It was the strength of an anglerfish, so strong that one wondered how a sick person could have such strength. Madeline moaned. ¡°Oh, ugh¡­it hurts¡­¡± ¡°¡­Isabel¡­.?¡± She turned around and saw the man looking at her with narrowed eyes. Isabel. Ian¡¯s sister¡¯s name. He mistook Madeline for his sister. Madeline¡¯s body stiffened. She didn¡¯t know how he would react if he knew that she had come here without permission. But instead of being horrified, she was perplexed. ¡°¡­¡­¡± She couldn¡¯t find the right words to describe it, just her lips trembled thinly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Ian¡¯s low-pitched voice was distorted with pain as he repeatedly said sorry. Like a mirage that disappeared if he released it, the strength holding Madeline¡¯s hand kept growing. ¡°I should have left you¡­alone to live¡­. It¡¯s me¡­my greed¡­.¡± She felt like her wrist was about to break. Shivering, Madeline covered the man¡¯s hand with her other hand. ¡°Calm down. I am not Isabel, I am your wife.¡± Madeline¡­Nottingham. Madeline didn¡¯t care what happened, she just wanted to calm the man in front of her. ¡°Madeline¡­¡± ¡°Yes. It¡¯s your¡­¡± ¡°My wife.¡± The man smiled faintly. At the same time, the power was removed from his hand. The disappointment and pain disappeared from his face, and instantly peace came. ¡®¡­¡­¡¯ ¡°Don¡¯t leave me.¡± The man murmured in a small voice. ¡°Just like that time.¡± ¡°¡­¡­.¡± Madeline couldn¡¯t speak. It must have been that time when she dared to run away from home. When she turned her head, she could see the Mansfield roses she was growing by the window. ¡°¡­¡­.¡± Just like that time. Madeline closed her eyes tightly. Chapter 9 *** Today you are beautiful and I am too ugly. I am afraid that I will destroy you. * * * ¨C Madeline, 25 years old. (The past) She ran away. Yes, Madeline ran away. From the mansion, from the Nottingham estate. She was fully prepared with clothes, money, and necessities of life in her bag. The reason for running away from home was simple, outrageous, and messy. She wanted to see a movie. She wanted to see the American movie, Charlie Chaplin. She wanted to hide among anonymous people. If she asked the Count, he might allow her to do so. But she was fed up with the fact that she had to look him in the face. She wanted to be free. Madeline was obsessed with the idea that Ian Nottingham was holding her back. She left the mansion, leaving behind word that she was going on a tour of the city. The car she had arranged ahead of time cooly sped down the road. The driver glanced at Madeline in the passenger seat. She did not like the way he looked at her, but there were not many people who would come to the estate, so she had no choice. The breeze was cool as it grazed her ears. The speed of the automobile was the speed of freedom. The distance she was away from the mansion was the distance she felt her freedom. ¡°You look happy.¡± ¡°¡­¡­.¡± If it weren¡¯t for the driver who talked to her in vain the whole time, her mood would have been even more exhilarating. When she got to London, she planned to go to the cinema, to the department stores, to the museums, to the Houses of Parliament, to the library¡­. She wanted to stay in the most glamorous hotels, the poorest hotels, and meet all kinds of people. It was clear that if she asked the Count to go to London, she would not be able to enjoy the freedom of travel. He must surely have assigned many servants and frequently monitored and interfered with her. Madeline didn¡¯t like that. As if he saw her as a sugar candy that could disappear at any moment¡­. She was frustrated for no reason. Madeline thought that what she did was not really ¡®running away¡¯. It would be closer to ¡®going out¡¯ than that. Well, yes, of course. It had been a long time since she had been in London. As soon as she got off at the train station, she must transfer to the train to Kings Cross. The value of freedom was the value of the train ticket. When she arrived in London, she thought about cutting her hair pretty and short like a flapper. Her heart swelled full of confidence. She felt even better to think that the mansion would be in great trouble by now. Would the Count have already received the report that Madeline went missing? ¡®He can¡¯t follow me with his body like that anyway.¡¯ A bad thought jumped out at her. It was despicable to use another person¡¯s deficiencies as a weapon of accusation. But she wanted to use it to condemn everything about the man. His emotional scars, even his physical scars. She refused to consider the fact that she had hit rock bottom. Of course, there was no guarantee that the Count would let her go. The Count just sat there but saw through it all. News from London, New York, and Paris arrived at his desk by telegram. His one word became an electric signal that crossed the distant Atlantic, and astronomical sums of money came and went. He would not look for one foolish woman in London. But she did not want to be pessimistic. It wasn¡¯t like starting a new life, but just bothering one man accomplished her purpose. The speed of the train was the speed of freedom. Madeline hummed an unidentifiable song. * * * As soon as she arrived in London, Madeleine Nottingham¡¯s eyes went wide. It had been a few years since she stayed in the mansion, but there was no gloomy atmosphere right after the end of the war. The crowd in the city was full of excitement. Of course, all over the city she saw wounded soldiers begging with melancholy expressions on their faces. Whenever Madeline saw them, she took money out of her pocket. A few signs with art decorations were visible, as well as the occasional places where women and men gathered together to drink coffee. Before the war it was difficult for women to go in and out of cafes, but once again a lot had changed. ¡®I have to start with checking into a hotel.¡¯ She was busy looking at the neon sign and nearly got run over by a passing car. Madeline didn¡¯t want to look like a country bumpkin, so she hurriedly fixed her eyes on the walk. The hotel she had chosen was neither too expensive nor cheap. If she chose too upscale a place, she might meet the Count¡¯s acquaintances, and a cheap place she wasn¡¯t ready to adapt to yet. She arrived at the hotel room and unpacked her luggage. It was not a big deal to see a woman traveling alone. Indeed, these days it was hard to say anything about women having a profession and living alone. In comparison, how uptight were they before the war? Of course, the war did not make everything better, but she enjoyed the liberating feeling to the fullest. After unpacking, she lay in bed. Madeline finally felt it all. ¡°I escaped.¡± She felt as empty as a hole in her lungs. It took her three years to run away. It was a long time, and a short time. She was even a little scared when she thought of the Count who would become angry when he heard the news of her running away from home. And then, something happened¡­ Something like ¡°guilt,¡± was creeping up her spine. ¡®Guilt? Me?¡¯ Hmph. Madeline snickered. She would be lying if she didn¡¯t say she felt sorry for the Count, but that was just cheap sympathy, a feeling that was nothing more than deception. She thought of the Count¡¯s mother, the previous Countess. She had a kind and sad face. She recited as if in confession as she seized Madeline¡¯s hand. ¡°He* no longer believes in God.¡± (*Ian) Had he lost only his faith? The man never spoke out about the hellscape he had experienced, but one thing was certain. The man thought there was no prosperity for mankind, no purpose. To him, this world was a meaningless speck of dust itself. ¡±I¡¯m about as much of a dust doll to him as he is to me, aren¡¯t I?¡± There was no way to know the Count¡¯s heart. Madeline would rather have seen the Count blush in her presence. For there would be no fact so terrible as that she might be important to him. ¡­Madeline did not want to think against herself who wanted to turn her back on that fact to the end. She had to fight the feeling of wandering in an endless whirlpool until sleep overtook her. * * * ¡°We have no other language in which to express ourselves but that Every meeting between two creatures in this world is a mutual rending. Come with me, for I have knowledge of such pain, and you¡¯ll be safer with me than with anyone else.¡± The Cloven Viscount (Italian: Il visconte dimezzato) is a fantasy novel by Italian writer Italo Calvino. * * * Madeline stood in front of the theater and looked at the posters. There was a large poster of a movie that had been shown in the United States. A man with a mustache, a sad face, and an exaggerated expression on his face. ¡°Charlie Chaplin¡­¡± Madeline read the poster. ¡°The Kid.¡± It seemed to be somewhat of a sad movie. But it looked spectacular. Madeline hesitated for a while and bought one ticket. Here and there, lovers and families took their seats in the movie theater. Madeline followed them and sat down. The light in the theater went out. While watching the movie, Madeline had the illusion that she was dreaming. A dream about someone who was not herself. It was a very strange feeling. If Madeline said she wanted to see a movie, the Count would have built a movie theater for her. He would have bought a projector and film and built a stage just for her. Because he would have done anything materialistic for Madeline. Madeline laughed then began to cry. She did not understand. Why was she so sad? Perhaps it was because she herself was more fragile than a phantom on the silver screen. Ghosts, figures from the past. They were beings that disappeared without a trace when the curtain closed. Back at the hotel, the manager gave Madeline a small telegram message. { I will be waiting for you at London Station. } * * * ¨C Madeline, 26 years old. (The past) It was a long night, punctuated by nightmares. Rats the size of a man¡¯s arm seen in the trenches. His rotting legs and other parts of himself were woven into a wiggly patchwork. When the man woke up after a hard death struggle, the first sight he saw was his wife sitting by the bed, dozing off. Her warmly tinted blonde hair was disheveled here and there, and the gown over her slip fell over her shoulders. The soft curves of her body were visible through the gown. A sharp forehead and plump lips, eyes that seemed to contemplate even when closed. Peach-colored cheeks. His wife, as if made of honey and gold. Her usual cold and indifferent appearance was filled with tenderness. The man was amazed at the fact that he was alive. That did not mean that this was heaven. Didn¡¯t he commit too many sins to go there? After looking at the woman for a while, Ian realized that he was holding her hand. As soon as he became aware of her soft and warm hand, his hand was hot as if it had been burned by fire. He groaned and sat up. Warm sunlight shone through the window onto the back of her head. He thought. ¡®I think it¡¯s okay to enjoy this peace for just a moment.¡¯ Judgment will come anyway. So, until the woman wakes up¡­. Chapter 10 *** ¨C Madeline at 17 (the present) An invitation to Colhaz¡¯s mansion. Upon receiving the thin card, Madeline felt somewhat troubled and bit her lower lip. Master Colhaz seemed to like her very much. Since the last party, he started to call on her, but now he even sent an invitation to his mansion. Officially, it was a polite letter from Viscount Colhaz to Baron Loenfield¡¯s daughter, but in reality it was clear that it was an invitation with George¡¯s personal agenda. ¡°Hmm, he¡¯s the third son.¡± Baron Loenfield scolded, looking at the invitation. George Colhaz was the third son of Viscount Colhaz, a promising young man who had graduated from Cambridge Law School. But the Baron was still not pleased. He did not like the idea of a third son, who had no title, taking an interest in his daughter. ¡°But it would be unladylike to refuse the invitation.¡± Her father came to a simple conclusion. Madeline sighed. She didn¡¯t care about her father¡¯s decorum or snobbishness. George was a pleasant young man and she had a little fun with him. But he was Ian Nottingham¡¯s best friend. That meant she could run into Ian and Isabel there. How embarrassing and awkward would that be? Madeline wanted to avoid that situation as much as possible. Indeed, it was very difficult to avoid the Nottinghams in London society. Madeline sighed and composed herself. * * * Colhaz¡¯s mansion was located near London. It was a blink of an eye to get there by car or carriage. It was cozy compared to the Loenfield¡¯s mansion, but that did not mean that it was built roughly. It was a cozy brick house. Madeline got out of the car and walked to the house. The sky changed color as she approached. When she arrived at the mansion, it was just before dinner. Ladies and gentlemen in cars were arriving one after another. They sat at the long banquet table and were treated to a fine meal. Viscount Colhaz was a generous man. He was not overbearing because he was a self-made man, but a man who knew his responsibilities as a worthy host. The silverware was clean, the decor was not too fancy, and the guests were few and comfortable. Behind all these conveniences must have been the uninterrupted labor of the servants. Next to Madeline sat George Colhaz, who kept talking. Ian Nottingham sat far away with his siblings. This was the first time Madeline had seen all three Nottingham siblings together. Ian in the first, Eric in the second, and even Isabel in the third. The three dark-haired siblings caught the attention of the entire sitting room. Each of them was beautiful and elegant. Eric joked when Ian would grab the center of the conversation. Isabel looked at the people arrogantly as she tilted her head. Then her eyes met Madeline¡¯s. She gently lifted one eyebrow, as if to ask ¡®why are you here?¡¯ Madeline lowered her head and pretended to sip her soup. After the meal was over, people gathered in groups and began to talk. A small chamber music orchestra performed props. In the eyes of the unassuming Madeline, George was magnificent and likable. He said he enjoyed talking with Madeline, and was so brusque that he even noticed his own compositions. ¡®He was someone who passed by in my previous life.¡¯ She remembered him as someone who had a long history of women. ¡°If you get a chance later, go to Vienna instead of Italy.¡± George said, offering a glass of sparkling wine. ¡°All kinds of innovation will be happening there.¡± ¡°¡­¡­ I see.¡± Madeline nodded, not speaking of the fact that the area would soon become a battlefield and a smoldering field. ¡°Civilization will continue to develop. Science and art, everything.¡± Technologically and artistically we are leading. George stretched his shoulders confidently. Madeline nodded mechanically. ¡°I don¡¯t know if that¡¯s the case.¡± It was then. Ian Nottingham appeared from behind George. He snatched George¡¯s cup. ¡°Brother George, long time no see.¡± Eric Nottingham was with Ian. A full smile filled the young man¡¯s face, which was more pliable than Ian¡¯s. ¡°You disagree with my theory? It is true that we are in a recessionary period. ¡­.¡± George was irritated. He seemed to be concerned about the appearance of Ian when he saw him glancing at Madeline. ¡°It¡¯s an unnecessary concern.¡± As Madeleine, the appearance of Ian was very inconvenient. However, in a crowded room, it was impossible to show any sign of it. Fortunately, Ian did not look at Madeline. ¡°The perpetual peace theory is a pipe dream. Humans are selfish by nature, so we are endlessly competing with our own kind.¡± ¡°Do you really believe that?¡± The lady sitting across from them looked concerned. ¡°That¡¯s how history has been able to develop because it¡¯s been competing and destroying. Renovation is inherently painful.¡± Ian said casually. ¡°But I don¡¯t think the method necessarily has to be forced. Economically, the world is too intertwined for there to be any danger.¡± ¡°Well, mankind has already left the age of barbarism.¡± George and the other young men countered. Madeline remained silent and listened without engaging in the dialogue between the two gentlemen. They had no idea of their fate, which was soon to be on the battlefield anyway. The situation itself was a kind of irony. ¡°What does Miss Loenfield think?¡± It was then. Ian suddenly put Madeline in the spotlight. ¡°¡­¡­.¡± Madeline, sitting in the corner, was more than a little annoyed. Besides the burden of having the whole sitting room¡¯s ears and eyes focused on her, she was just wondering if the man was being mean to her and doing this to her. Ian looked at Madeline with a nonchalant expression. His thick eyebrows were still in their original place. The gaze beneath it was subdued. He looked as relaxed as he had the last time he asked for a dance. ¡®As expected, it¡¯s because I talked to Isabel last time.¡¯ Madeline sighed. ¡°Well, a gentleman I know well¡­.¡± Madeleine looked at Ian. The confident, arrogant man stared at her as if he was really curious about Madeline¡¯s answer. ¡°A gentleman I know says that history is a meaningless game of dice. It¡¯s a development, yes. Even if that statement were true, how can we justify all the death and grief under the pretext of development?¡± She could see the expressions on the faces of the seated participants harden. But Madeline could not stop. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be sentimental. It is clear that Master Nottingham¡¯s insight has a point. But I don¡¯t know. War is bound to happen because people think violence is a ¡®necessary evil.¡¯¡± Silence. The crowd was silent. ¡°So that¡¯s what Miss Loenfield thinks¡­..¡± Ian mumbled, lifting an eyebrow. There was no sign of displeasure at the slight rise in the corners of his mouth. In comparison, the expressions on the faces of the other ladies and gentlemen were not good. They seemed shocked by Madeline¡¯s bluntly sarcastic words about the controversy. Sensing the awkward atmosphere, Eric suddenly changed the subject. ¡°I¡¯m bored with politics. Instead, let¡¯s talk about Wimbledon. Who would you like to bet on among the ladies and gentlemen in the rankings?¡± The conversation quickly switched to tennis. Ian Nottingham also joined in the conversation without seeming offended or irritated at all. Only Madeline was a bit reluctant. ¡°My brother is a very good tennis player. If he and I team up, I think we can compete at Wimbledon.¡± ¡°Eric, don¡¯t brag.¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s true.¡± Eric made a fuss. It was quite plausible to imagine the brothers forming a tennis team. They both had tall, well-balanced bodies. Madeline was silent. She asked to be excused to take a walk for a while, and when she left the crowd, she was able to breathe a little. There was a large shrubbery in front of the mansion. She felt her heart open as she proceeded to the balcony and looked out at it. It was about the time Madeline was taking in the evening air. A pair of shadows could be seen among the shrubbery across from the mansion. She observed them with suspicious eyes. The shadows were a pair. A man and a woman, to be exact. It was the shadow of a man in a hunter¡¯s hat and a woman with a parasol. ¡®Isabel Nottingham¡­!¡¯ It was clear that it was Isabel and her lover Zachary Miloff. Madeline fidgeted with the cool air that was coming down her spine. She turned to the room just in case, and there was Ian approaching her. She must prevent it. Instinctively, she made that decision. Madeline inevitably created a smile. She didn¡¯t detect Ian¡¯s stiff expression softening slightly. ¡°Miss Loenfield. I would like to talk to you about the other day.¡± ¡°¡­¡­ about the other day?¡± ¡°I mean about Isabel. It was wrong of me to pursue you about that girl.¡± ¡°No, I am fine. As an older brother, it¡¯s natural to worry about your younger sister, right?¡± ¡°¡­¡­.¡± Ian paused for a moment. Madeline looked at him with anxious eyes. When he wrinkled his brow, she became nervous. ¡°If you and Isabelle are on friendly terms¡­¡± ¡°I¡­¡­¡± ¡°Talk to her well. You know what I mean.¡± Ian¡¯s cheeks began to blush. He seemed embarrassed to make a personal request. Madeleine nodded quietly. This conversation was quite uncomfortable, but what could she do? She did not know what to say. ¡°Shall we go inside?¡± She said, feeling the wind blowing in the back of her head. The sunset was pouring down on the man¡¯s face. ¡°Miss Loenfield. I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°¡­¡­¡± ¡°I have always felt for some time now that you don¡¯t like me very much.¡± ¡°How can that be?¡± Madeline¡¯s face hardened. ¡°Or should I say contempt?¡± ¡°What do you mean contempt?¡± ¡®Yes. I despise you. What you did was not love. It was only childish possessiveness.¡¯ The words that could not escape Madeline¡¯s throat coagulated and tore at her breath. Chapter 11 *** The present. Now the man was blameless. He was not broken, just arrogant. In any case, I could not blame him for something that has not yet happened here in the world. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe it¡¯s just my illusion.¡± (Ian) Ian smiled softly. It was a smile with a moderate warmth, befitting a cold, stern face. ¡°But I hope you don¡¯t hate me too much.It would be to our mutual loss.¡± (Ian) ¡°Mutual loss?¡± Madeline smiled awkwardly. Ian continued. ¡°You never know what will happen to a relationship.¡± ¡°It sounds like it could be a bad relationship.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t give me an inch to get in.¡± Ian sighed. He gently leaned his upper body forward in polite greeting. ¡°I respect your wishes, Miss Loenfield, and I¡¯ll step down for now. But from now on, I will not retreat.¡± After Ian Nottingham entered the hall, Madeline turned her gaze toward the shrubbery again. She did not see the two people earlier, as if the secret meeting was over. No, it was too dark to see clearly. The shadows of people and trees were so mixed up that it was hard to distinguish one from the other. The more the air smelled of summer grass, the more bitter Madeline¡¯s heart became, as if it were burning instead of lifting. Soon they will hear the news of war. Now that she had that knowledge and experience, it was even more painful. She wished she had known nothing at all. For she couldn¡¯t help but felt helpless despite knowing everything. There was nothing good about coming back to life. If there was a difference, it was that she had to go through all the pain again. She envied those who, like that lovers in the forest, knew nothing. * * * Madeline continued to think about it after a few days. Isabelle and the man who was having a secret meeting in the forest. She could not stop thinking about those two. It was as if I was peeking at the moment she shouldn¡¯t peek at, a feeling that was profane but drowning her. ¡®It¡¯s amazing, too, that there can be such a fiery love.¡¯ The love of the young couple who were ready to die. It was a feeling Madeline could never understand. She was still a ¡°young person,¡± too, but it was like those feelings had already subsided. Of course, romantic love was supposed to be different from selfish obsession. Her husband¡¯s behavior in her previous life was far from love. At least that¡¯s what Madeline thought. His feelings were nothing more than a twisted desire for control or selfish favoritism. It had to be. Anyway, after several unexplained encounters, she had no choice but to continue meeting the man. She had no choice. It was not something she could avoid by trying to avoid it. The social world in London was like a narrow pasture where they had thrown out the best pedigreed racehorses. It was frustrating, but bearable. Madeline developed her own personal sideshow. She decided to just quietly observe. As quietly as possible, she watched the people. If she watched carefully in this way, she would notice a few things that she missed before. In fact, she saw many things anew. Of course, some of them were facts that she did not want to know. Like the secret meeting between her father and Countess Priscilla. She really did not want to see the two of them still secretly exchanging glances with each other over there. Madeline raised her eyebrows and turned her gaze hurriedly away. As she turned her eyes, she saw one more fact. A man standing loitering at the end of the banquet hall caught her eyes. Louis Burton. He had made his vast fortune in the coal mills, but everyone seemed to be deliberately ignoring him because of his commoner background. Still, he was a persistent socialite, constantly knocking on doors. He was an ordinary looking man with a beautiful, young face. His round, dark eyes were drooping, which made him look very pitiful. And there was another element that made her feel sorry for the man. ¡°So, when we went fox hunting together, I was forced to put in a lot of effort, but he actually ignored all the etiquette there. In the end, how his face burned after Master Nottingham said a few words¡­.¡± ¡°And then, to think of making such a face, I feel so embarrassed.¡± ¡°Hahaha.¡± She heard voices nearby making fun of the man. ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± Madeline was dumbfounded. It was really funny how no one spoke explicitly to the man and ignored him. Moreover, when the name ¡°Nottingham¡± was mentioned, she felt her blood pressure rising. ¡®He¡¯s still a naive man.¡¯ They were so narrow minded and petty enough to humiliate a man who tried to get into the social world. So. Eventually, Madeleine decided to be nosy again. She approached the man alone. She originally knew that it was not polite to talk to him first in the first meeting, but she did not want to question that. Then she would not have said anything to Isabelle. ¡®It wasn¡¯t because I felt sorry for that man in particular. I just don¡¯t like hearing people talk behind his back.¡¯ Madeline spoke to the man, smiling as gently as possible. ¡°Hello, Mr. Burton. We met at a dinner party the other night, do you remember me?¡± ¡°Oh, yes, yes! Miss Loenfield, I remember you.¡± A smile broke out from Louis Barton¡¯s dejected face. It was quite good to see the energy come out of his mellow eyes. It wasn¡¯t bad. ¡°Boring, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°No. No. Not boring at all. Miss Loenfield.¡± Louis Barton said, waving his hand. An overly strong denial was as good as a strong affirmation. Madeline nodded softly. ¡°Good. I¡¯m glad. I didn¡¯t know you weren¡¯t bored. I¡¯m starting to get a little sleepy, to be honest.¡± ¡°That¡¯s ¡­¡­. That¡¯s a big deal. Miss Loenfield. You¡¯re tired.¡± Barton opened his big eyes and was at a loss. He brought over one of the empty chairs. ¡°Would you like to sit down for a moment?¡± The way he fidgeted showed he had no social experience. It was surprising for a man who appeared to be at least 30 years old. Madeline was about to sit down in the chair the man offered her. A large shadow hung from the other side. ¡°We meet again, Miss Loenfield.¡± She looked up and there was Ian Nottingham with a blunt face. It would not have been unreasonable to say that it was an ordinary-looking Ian Nottingham, since his basic face was unsociable to begin with. Madeline greeted him reluctantly. ¡°¡­..Hello, Master Nottingham.¡± ¡°Mr. Burton, it¡¯s a pleasure to meet you again.¡± ¡°Oh, uh, yes. Master Nottingham. It¡¯s been a really long time. I really enjoyed that time.¡± Louis Burton¡¯s whole body was trembling. It was much worse than when Madeline spoke to him. On the other hand, Ian who suddenly approached them seemed to be fine. He seemed calm, as if he really only came to say hello. But Madeline knew he had not come to them for no reason. ¡°The hunt I did with Mr. Burton was very¡­. It was fun.¡± (Ian) Ian raised his lips and forced a smile. But the accent and tone of his voice were a little sarcastic. Madeline lifted one eyebrow, but poor Mr. Burton was truly horrified, unable to read any of the nuances. ¡°Truly, I am honored. Master Nottingham. When would you like to hunt again¡­.¡± ¡°Miss Loenfield. Do you know much about hunting?¡± Ian aksed Madeline, blatantly cutting off Louis Barton¡¯s words. ¡°No, I¡¯m not much ¡­.¡± Not so much. Madeline hated hunting then and still do. Of course, there was a big personal reason there. Her mother hated hunting very much. Her father went hunting very happily while she looked depressed. Looking back now, she didn¡¯t know how she put up with it. ¡°Hunting, it¡¯s fun.¡± When Ian Nottingham suddenly blurted out, Madeline was slightly disconcerted. Did he just interrupt the conversation to say that? The other person seemed to think the same. Ian coughed several times. ¡°I¡­¡­. I mean it¡¯s fun to track the movements of your prey and it¡¯s also quite interesting to handle the hounds. It seems that a lot of ladies do it these days. Why don¡¯t you give it a try, Miss Loenfield?¡± Young Ian Nottingham was certainly more sociable than the man in her previous life, but he was by no means ¡°outgoing.¡± He was only ever a confident man. There was a rather awkward aspect to approaching people first like this. ¡°Yes. Hunting is the highest culture for ladies and gentlemen! Miss Loenfield. I heard that Baron Loenfield is also very good at hunting. The young lady must be talented, too.¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡­¡± Louis Burton¡¯s excitement made Madeline feel a little down. She approached him first to help him who was alone and was being laughed at, but he was courting Ian without knowing anything. ¡°I was surprised by the way. Master Nottingham, you were quite ruthless with your hands in front of your prey.¡± ¡°¡­¡­.¡± Ian Nottingham¡¯s complexion changed dramatically at Burton¡¯s words. But the change was so subtle that only Madeline noticed. ¡®Wow¡­this Burton guy, he really can¡¯t read the air.¡¯ ¡°I loved the way you disposed of all your prey! I respect you! You¡¯re good at everything because you¡¯re that relentless.¡± ¡®Now I know the people didn¡¯t laugh at him for no reason.¡¯ Madeline felt a slight headache. The language games of the social circle were too subtle and sly, but Burton¡¯s mouth was his obstacle. It was when Madeline moved her eyes, trying to get out of this difficult situation. At that moment, an elegant figure appeared without a sound or a shadow. It was Isabel. Her black hair was braided in a bun. The skirt was simple without decoration, but it wasn¡¯t cheap. There was a slightly arrogant cat-like smile on her face. She looked at Madeline and tilted her head. ¡°Miss Loenfield. Here you are. I heard they have a new dress catalog at Le Bon March¨¦, would you like to go take a look?¡± Isabel gave a very innocent and natural smile. If someone who didn¡¯t know her saw it, she would look very lovely. Chapter 12 **** Isabel, who had snatched Madeline between the two men with a single, undeterred movement, murmured as soon as she stepped out to the empty corridor. ¡°I actually hate dresses. I hate going to the Bon March¨¦ department store.¡± ¡°¡­¡­ Ah¡­I see.¡± ¡°I said that to rescue you from that awkward hell. There is no new catalog.¡± ¡°Uh¡­yes.¡± Isabel looked back at Madeline, who nodded blankly, and asked with a suspicious expression. ¡±I¡¯ve been wondering for a while now, you¡¯re not a psychic, are you?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Someone who sees ghosts. The one who can predict the sinking of the Titanic and communicate with the dead.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± It was getting weirder. Madeline thought it would be better to go back and talk about hunting. ¡°Well, I¡¯m a materialist, so of course I don¡¯t think there is such a thing as ghosts. But you, I¡¯m really curious! You even knew my boyfriend¡¯s name! Even what I am going to do in the future¡­how?¡± Materialist. Madeleine was confused, but she knew Isabel was wary of her. Because Madeline knew what Isabel was going to do. ¡°Were you going to die?¡± After all, that day. Speeding or turning the wheel. ¡°¡­¡­..¡± Isabel clamped her mouth shut. Up close, she looked like Ian. Like the stubbornly mean-looking mouth and thick eyebrows. Madeline relaxed her expression and soothed her. ¡°You know it¡¯s stupid, right? You just try to upset your family. But you want to kill yourself with your lover.¡± ¡°What the hell do you know!¡± Isabel shot back. But there was no loud voice. ¡°¡­¡­.¡± This time, Madeline kept her mouth shut. Isabel finally nodded when she saw Madeline became quiet. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to die. I just thought it would be fun speeding. I was also in a drunken state.¡± ¡°It¡¯s also a stupid idea to speed while drunk.¡± ¡°You¡¯re really mean, unlike how you look. You, I thought you were a polite young lady, but I¡¯m surprised.¡± Madeline sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t want to make any kind of appearance in this life. I¡¯m not good at socializing either.¡± Watching Madeline muttering low, Isabel said, ¡°I know someone like you¡­.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°No, you¡¯re just like my childhood friend when you talk nonsense.¡± Isabel gently tilted her head. She took out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. It was a lucky strike. ¡°Something tells me we¡¯ll be good friends.¡± * * * Time did not wait for one. The Marchioness said, ¡°When your nuptials are over, you¡¯re done,¡± and ¡°After three social seasons, you¡¯re an old woman.¡± The murmuring was rather noisy. Madeline now reached a point where she was not so much disturbed by any of the noises. She had a typewriter and practiced from time to time, just to see if it might be useful. In addition, she was teaching herself how to keep the accounting books. It was not a hobby, but a way of life in its own way. Madeline imagined a certain ideal way of life. It was not so common at the moment, but one day it would be a common way of life. It was a life that could be enjoyed to the fullest and richest with no marriage. She dared to hope for that. To do so, she would need regular income in addition to the money she sold off her father¡¯s estate and mansion. ¡°Hmm.¡± Looking at the unexpected accounting books, she was automatically horrified. She would still have to go to school. Why didn¡¯t she go to school but learn piano, painting, and classical Greek from a tutor? ¡°No use!¡± It was a thing of the past that the young ladies of good families had tutors. They now have entered an era when the upper classes also go to school, and it has become rare to teach the liberal arts at home. ¡°I don¡¯t know any more. I am young and my limbs are fine, so anything will do.¡± Madeline hit the typewriter until her hands cramped and she slumped over the desk. ¡®Should I have remembered the ten stocks that went up big right after the war before I died?¡¯ Madeline chuckled to herself in dismay. She thought that growing only roses in an old castle in England was really a useless time, with no reason to be reborn. After all, the only thing she knew properly was war, war. It was an event that no one could have properly predicted. * * * Ian Nottingham was not in a good mood, and that was fair enough. Madeline wasn¡¯t in the mood to care. Her father was acting like a ticking time bomb, and Isabel was reluctant to be Nottingham, (but the conversation with her was fun), and she did want to cling to her old marriage. ¡°My brother has been angry with me until now about the last time I took Madeline away from him. Can you believe it?¡± Isabel whispered in Madeline¡¯s ear. ¡°I don¡¯t understand. What¡¯s wrong with him? He really seems to be in a bad mood for no good reason.¡± Madeline asked back soullessly. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I want to ask. What¡¯s wrong with him?¡± Isabel loved it every time Madeline was broadly sarcastic about Ian. It was strange, because all siblings weren¡¯t supposed to be hostile to each other. Anyway, there was no reason for Madeline to be bothered by Ian Nottingham¡¯s bad mood. ¡°What¡¯s funnier is that he never admits he¡¯s offended. He¡¯s just moody.¡± ¡®Isabel is being funny,¡¯ Madeline exclaimed low. At the same time Madeline felt the man¡¯s eyes on her. She hurriedly turned away, but she was a step too late. ¡®I¡¯m in trouble for getting so close to the Nottingham.¡¯ In fact, in Isabelle¡¯s case, she was as good as ¡®done¡¯ with her friend. Madeline had no choice. Madeline, who let Isabel make a fuss for a while, suffered a moment later from the opera response of senior members in society. Before long, Madleine, left alone again, closed her eyes and began to doze off, feeling a peace bubbling up from within. But that peace was short-lived. ¡°You¡¯ve been tired a lot lately.¡± ¡®¡¯Oh, you surprised me.¡± Madeline¡¯s rudeness was now very blatant. Ian Nottingham was a little taken aback. It was funny how she openly tried to push him away. ¡°You don¡¯t fit the London air. You doze off every time I see you.¡± ¡°It is true that the air in London is not so good¡­ I study at night.¡± ¡°You must be studying classical Greek.¡± Ah, Madeline glanced sideways at the man. Seeing that he responded to her words without any change in his expression, he seemed ready to fight back. Madeline shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s a bit like a Greek tragedy. I can¡¯t sleep thinking about how to avoid the inevitable fate.¡± ¡°¡­¡­?¡± Ian looked at Madeline as if he had never heard such a silly thing before. Ian Nottingham with that clueless look on his face. It was refreshing for some reason. Not only young, but childlike and naive. Madeline, who was slightly softened by such a face, readily showed a smile that she rarely showed to men. ¡°I¡¯ll put it simply. I¡¯m busy thinking about how to make a living.¡± ¡°¡­why should a person like you worry about that?¡± ¡®You¡¯re completely stained after playing with Isabel¡¯. Ian shook his head. If he had known she was such a gibberish girl, he wouldn¡¯t have asked for a dance then. Ian grumbled coldly, but his behavior was different. It was because he sat close to her before he knew it. ¡°I think people like me should be interested in life.¡± ¡°¡­maybe it¡¯s because of Baron Loenfield.¡± Ian whispered very quietly as he fixed his gaze to the front . There was no waver in his brusque tone, and Madeline could not tell what he meant. ¡°As expected, my father¡¯s generous spending is not a secret in London.¡± Madeline sighed. She was the same. It seemed that the story of Baron Loenfield¡¯s extravagance was already an established fact in social circles. Even Ian knew it. ¡°But we still have the estate. Even with just the small amount of money that comes out of there, we should be able to get by to some extent.¡± Of course, if they didn¡¯t live luxuriously. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe it. The prices are dropping, and the estates are selling fast. And is there a guarantee that my father won¡¯t be extravagant?¡± kak kak. Ian coughed a little when he heard Madeline openly criticizing her father. He was glad he wasn¡¯t drinking water. ¡°Am I talking too hard about my father?¡± Perhaps Madeline¡¯s excessive realism now was taught by Ian in her past life. Freedom and property were directly linked, and in order to get it, they had to move quickly. ¡°Rather than having struggle alone, wouldn¡¯t it be better to find someone who could accomplish that? Realistically.¡± Madeline wasn¡¯t too upset to hear that. Now Ian was shaking off all his pretense and talking. It must have been sincere advice for her. But that didn¡¯t mean Madeline would agree. ¡®Salvation. I don¡¯t know. I want to live my life relying solely on myself.¡¯ ¡°You say something similar to Isabel.¡± Ian scoffed. Madeline was slightly offended by the sight of him. ¡°Have you ever hated someone because you hated yourself?¡± (Madeline) ¡°¡­¡­.¡± Ian stared at Madeline as if he was wondering what this was all about. The handsome face was only a little puzzled. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hate anyone, I just want to nurture the strength within me. Even if you don¡¯t understand, I can¡¯t help it.¡± (Madeline) It was not that Madeline want people to understand her. She just had a sudden realization that came to her and she had to immediately throw it out to the man. The realization that she had said something that grabbed the floating cloud came later. A moment of awkward silence fell, and Madeline¡¯s face burned red. But the man did not tease her or pursue the matter further. He just nodded as if he didn¡¯t like something. He nodded as if he thought¡­ ¡°You ¡­¡­ well, no. Bye. Have a nice evening.¡± Ian left without finishing his sentence properly. And that was that. Madeline shuddered in some strange familiarity as she looked behind him. She seemed to have said too many facts and at the same time not explained too much. Chapter 13 *** ¡°Father?¡± Madeline returned from a dinner party according to the usual tightly organized social schedule. She noticed things laid out in the townhouse. The atmosphere was suspicious. She didn¡¯t understand it. It was ominous. She quickly called the maid, Dorit. ¡°Dorit, is my father sleeping? Why is there no sign of him?¡± ¡°Um, that¡¯s¡­¡± The maid hesitated. Her big blue eyes quickly became watery. Something was definitely out of the ordinary. ¡°Did something happen to my father?¡± ¡°Lady¡­.¡± Dorit, whose eyes were watery, suddenly burst into tears. ¡°What shall we do¡­¡± Madeline had a hunch that her father had caused the accident. If preventing him from investing would have solved things, he wouldn¡¯t have made that decision in the first place. After all, it was the father who would do what he wanted. Leaving the crying Dorit behind, Madeline rushed up the stairs. She opened her father¡¯s room without knocking and saw his backside sprawled on the bed. ¡°Father.¡± ¡°Madeline¡­ what a fuss. You¡¯re a lady¡­.¡± Now does that matter? Madeline swallowed the snide remark in her stomach and calmly began to question the situation. ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°It¡¯s ¡­¡­ no ¡­..that¡­¡­¡± Baron Loenfield, who was lying on his side, turned to Madeline, and began to cry with a pale face. ¡°I¡¯m the one who needs to die¡­I¡¯m the one who needs to be killed¡­.¡± ¡°Now, please calm down, it¡¯s not a problem that can be solved by someone dying.¡± Madeline quickly pulled the chair to the side of the bed. She tightened her father¡¯s hand, somewhat painful but firmly. ¡°I need to know what the problem is to solve it.¡± ¡°We¡¯re broke.¡± The Baron muttered with a blank look on his face. He closed his eyes and fainted at the last word. ¡®¡­really.¡¯ What¡¯s the use of knowing the future? If it goes this way. Madeline closed her eyes still in a severe headache. * * * The trading company in which her father invested a huge amount of money has gone bankrupt. A trading company instead of a farm. Does that mean chickens instead of pheasants? Not only was all the money at stake, but even the previous debts remained. The payment for the debt was possible, but that problem was that it could only be paid by selling the Loenfield mansion and all of the lands. Paying off the debt itself was not the problem. After that, she was at a complete loss as to how to live. How should a Baron and his daughter without a fiefdom live? How could an aristocrat without a fief be established in the first place? The Baron had lived without sweat in his hands. A major in theology and philosophy at Oxford, he was a dilettante who devoted his life to noble discussion and entertainment. Madeline was equally incompetent. She felt like an idiot. She lived in detachment from the outside world like a flower in a greenhouse. She had lived peacefully within the protection of the Baron and the Count her entire previous life, and there was no way she would have the ability to diagnose a crisis. Still, she had to get through it somehow. Madeline murmured as she walked around the banks of London. People stared at her, glancing at her, wondering if it was very strange for a young lady in a dress and a parasol to walk around the banking district alone. She had to struggle while her father suffered while preserving his seat. ¡®There¡¯s no point in living my life again like this.¡¯ And there was an even worse aspect to the situation. Her father went bankrupt earlier in this life than he had in the past. She might as well have let him do whatever he wanted. It was not her intention, but it was a way to force him to do other things. And so a stifling week passed. Father and daughter decided to dispose of their London townhouse in a hurry. The sale process was complicated and there was a lot of paperwork to prepare, but hiring experts was no easy task. It was more correct to say that they were not aristocrats but fools who could do nothing. This was also a kind of education for Madeline. It was easy to buy, but difficult to sell. When you can¡¯t afford to bargain, you will suffer losses. She didn¡¯t want to learn it this way, but a lesson was a lesson. A week had passed since the incident, and it seemed that words had already widely spread in the social circles, as there were no invitations to parties. The rumor was that Baron Loenfield and his daughter went bankrupt. The rumor would be that the Baron, whose reputation for generous spending of money had eventually become so. ¡°Perhaps it is better this way.¡± It suddenly occurred to her that it might not be bad to advance the downfall. Besides, now they didn¡¯t have debts of the tremendous magnitude of her previous life. If you roll up your sleeves and do anything at random, you might see a light of salvation. But Madeline herself did not know that the light of salvation would come from a place that was completely undesirable. * * * A letter came. The address was printed in neat brushstrokes and there was a seal made of melted and hardened beeswax on the outer stitching. The seal was inscribed with a two-headed lion and the Nottingham family design. The Baron¡¯s hand trembled as he received it. Baron Loenfield hurriedly opened the letter, feeling unbelievable. He could not believe his luck had come. It was the content of the letter, namely, that the Count of Nottingham, with so much money rotting away, invited the Loenfield father and daughter to hang out. It wasn¡¯t that there would be a party or a dinner party, but that it was a special invite only to the Loenfield father and daughter. So it was more than a little suspicious. ¡°Perhaps?¡± He was well aware of the story that his daughter often danced with the eldest son of the Count of Nottingham. According to the Marchioness, it was unusual between Ian and Madeline. She had even witnessed them talking alone together. As a gentleman, he deliberately pretended not to know about it, but frankly, it was an intriguing story. He was nervous to think that the Count¡¯s son was interested in his daughter. Of course Ian Nottingham was a popular gentleman. However, the Baron knew very well how men of blood and success could do bad things to young girls. When the Baron of Loenfield was a young man, it was disrespectful in itself for a man and a woman who weren¡¯t married to talk alone. Although the atmosphere was more free now, social life was still rich in gossip and face-saving. Under such circumstances, to be involved with Ian Nottingham was risky. But what if his daughter Madeline had succeeded in winning Ian Nottingham¡¯s heart? Then the Baron, or rather the Loenfield family, would be saved from hell to heaven in one fell swoop. But Baron Loenfield deliberately chose not to reveal it. He knew his daughter. If he showed his intentions, Madeline, who had the temperament of a green frog, might cold water him for no reason. Moreover, he could have been rejected by the Count if he was too expected. He was not prudent in the management of his money, but he was very serious in such a marriage proposal. After placing the letter on the table with trembling hands, he put his hands together and prayed sincerely to God, whom he had been looking for in this life. * * * ¡®I don¡¯t know what the hell you¡¯re up to.¡¯ Madeline was anxious. As soon as news of the Loenfields¡¯ bankruptcy spread through London society, the Nottinghams¡¯ personal letter arrived. The timing was very suspicious. Moreover, only her and her father were invited. It was even more suspicious. ¡®Perhaps they wanted to discuss Isabel¡¯s case.¡¯ Madeline recalled Ian¡¯s request that day. Perhaps he wanted to dig out more information from Madeline in relation to the matter. Indeed, it was possible that the invitation was sent simply as a friendly gesture. It was also true that she often talked to the Nottinghams. Madeline thought she was an extremely boring woman, but it was impossible to know what they would think of her. ¡°I will write a letter of refusal.¡± Madeline said nonchalantly, keeping her gaze fixed on the letter. ¡°What are you talking about? My daughter.¡± ¡°Father, you know we can¡¯t afford to hang out anywhere. Besides, all the household goods in this townhouse need to be sorted out and sold.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be silly, Madeline.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be silly?¡± Madeline furrowed her brow as if she didn¡¯t understand. Baron Loenfield stared at his daughter coldly. ¡°This letter is, in effect, an invitation sent to ¡®you¡¯ by the Count¡¯s eldest son.¡± ¡°What does it mean? He is a popular man by nature. He would send an invitation like this to anyone.¡± Madeline was sure Ian didn¡¯t write this invitation himself. She automatically laughed. What was her father expecting? Did he still think they were still members of high society? She was about to explode in a hot fire at his stupidity. ¡°Madeline. You¡¯re my daughter, but you are too dull.¡± Baron Loenfield rose from his seat and immediately grabbed the invitation in Madeline¡¯s hand. ¡°It is an invitation they sent knowing we were in this situation. Shrinking needlessly at a time like this will only make the situation worse.¡± ¡°¡­¡­.¡± There was a point to those words. There was no need to shrink and be shy first just because they went bankrupt. In fact, it might be better to ask for help shamelessly. It would hurt their pride, but now was not the time to think about such things. ¡°Okay, father. But don¡¯t expect too much. The Nottinghams are wealthy, but they are not generous. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s an invitation from pity to see how we¡¯re doing.¡± Madeline sighed. Her head was spinning. Soon it was her job to clean out the townhouse. The second-hand furniture department was already full of decorative old furniture from the fallen aristocracy. Even if it was offered at a cheap price, it was not sold, because it was outdated. The price of furniture and the irreversible nature of unchangeable destiny. Madeline felt herself endlessly shabby and powerless in the midst of it all. There was nothing she could change. What if it was to flow according to the natural law of things? Madeline slumped. Society was narrow, and the path ahead of her was even narrower. Chapter 14 *** Madeline sat still as she was helped dressing up. She wore the most beautiful dress that had not yet been sold and was given a makeover by the only remaining servant. Her hair was neatly tied up. ¡®The young lady has very attractive rosy cheeks¡­. It would be better if there¡¯s a pink dress to match it.¡± ¡°Yes, I wish I had.¡± Madeline smiled bravely, consoling herself. But this dark green dress she was wearing now would have fit better. Can¡¯t go out in a resilient pink dress when she had to create the maximum tragic atmosphere. * * * When she visited Nottingham Mansion again, it was so different from what she remembered that she was puzzled. It didn¡¯t have a gruesome atmosphere, but an old-fashioned and splendid baroque mansion. A huge fountain in front of it spewed out streams of water, and everything was well organized. Madeline felt her heart involuntarily tighten. Sweat beaded on her palms. There was no rose garden, but a tennis field. The sun was shining brightly, unaware of the woman¡¯s feelings. Madeline took her father by the arm and carefully made her way to the mansion. The servants lined up in front of the gate were very friendly. Even Sebastian, the chief butler with a solemn face, and Lilibet, who was still unspoken but kind. When she saw those servants at that time looking a little younger, she couldn¡¯t resist the urge to talk to them for no reason. Besides, their expressions all seemed peaceful. Once again, she was able to experience the transition of the Nottingham Mansion. It was even the weight of the tragedy that loomed over the mansion. She was guided by the chief butler with a somewhat awkward look on her face. Following the servants, the Counts of Nottingham welcomed them. This was the first time she had met the Nottinghams in this way. It was only natural. For in her previous life, they had died, been injured, or disappeared. Now they were greeting the father and daughter of Loenfield with stately grace. The Count of Nottingham, Louis Nottingham, approached first with a gentle smile. The man whom she had seen only in portraits and black-and-white photographs was pale and old. On the surface, he did not look like a ruthless businessman at all. He was accompanied by Catherine ¨C the Countess of Nottingham. The quiet and gentle woman retired to her villa for a long time after the ¡°Nottingham family tragedy¡±. Now she was a figure with a bright smile on her face, not expecting such a misfortune to happen. Behind the couple were the three Nottingham siblings. Ian Nottingham, the eldest, stood behind the Count, smiling faintly. Eric looked amused, and Isabel was still casting sardonic glances toward Madeline. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s go in. I looked forward to your visit.¡± The Count of Nottingham, with a friendly expression, invited the Baron and Madeline in. Madeline knew that he did not have much life left . However, it was unnecessary for her to know if he would live long or short. At a glance, his illness seemed quite severe. Perhaps this was why, despite the three young siblings¡¯s vigor, a slight shadow hung over the mansion. Despite the hardships, the Count did his best to be consistent throughout and welcomed the Baron and Madeline. The different subjects of the conversation circled around, postponing the main purpose of the invitation. So much so that even Baron Loenfield, who was naturally relaxed, was in pain. He was nervous, clenching his fists and breaking out in a cold sweat. Madeline was just as nervous. She was frustrated because she could not resolve her doubts about why the Nottingham family had invited her and her father, who was bankrupt, to the party. Her and Ian Nottingham¡¯s eyes met from time to time. He seemed to be somehow enjoying the situation. Satisfaction. It was clear that he had some kind of plan from the raising corners of his lips. When Madeline wrinkled her brow a little, Ian tilted his head and looked at her. It was then. Suddenly the Count began to cough dryly and stood up trembling. He smiled faintly. ¡°Now.¡­if you excuse me.¡± With those words, everyone got out of their seats at the same time, as if assembled. Except for Ian Nottingham. Madeline was puzzled. Nottingham¡¯s family had leisurely slipped out of the parlor. Baron Loenfield followed them out of the room in a hurry. And he did not forget to send a meaningful look towards his daughter. ¡®What is it?¡¯ Madeline asked in the movement of her lips, but received no reply. After everyone had left, the door closed. Madeline stood up late. Something was wrong with the atmosphere. ¡°You don¡¯t have to get up. I will.¡± Ian Nottingham stood up with those words. ¡°And I will kneel before you like this.¡± He knelt on one knee in front of Madeline. Madeline bit her lower lip as she finally knew why all the others had left. She wanted to scream if she could. The unimaginable had happened. ¡°What in the world¡­?¡± ¡°Are you surprised?¡± Ian said quietly. He deftly pulled a ring from his pocket. ¡°I¡¯m going to be direct. I heard you went bankrupt.¡± ¡°What does that have to do with our current situation?¡± Madeline raised her voice in bewilderment. She couldn¡¯t understand. What did the bankruptcy of her family have to do with what the man was doing? ¡°I¡¯m talking about the fact that I can give you what you need. I have even convinced my parents, so there will be no need to question them further. Madeline Loenfield. I like you.¡± Ian opened a square ring box. Inside was a ring with a large diamond of ten million colors. Madeline stopped for a small breath. ¡°You¡¯ve seen my father¡¯s condition.¡± ¡°¡­¡­.¡± ¡°I want to settle this before something happens. Shouldn¡¯t you at least think about it?¡± ¡°Marry me?¡± Madeline furrowed one eyebrow in disbelief. A laugh broke out. she laughed in front of the arrogant handsome face. At such a reaction from Madline, the expression disappeared from Ian¡¯s face. Only a complete blankness remained. ¡°What in the world is this¡­?¡± ¡°Do you love me?¡± Madeline asked again. She had to, otherwise she could never have justified the man¡¯s current behavior. Ian Nottingham immediately answered. ¡°Love? Isn¡¯t that a whimsical expression? It¡¯s more like the expression ¡®not bad¡¯.¡± ¡°¡­¡­.¡± ¡°I like your strange philosopher-like expressions, facial expressions, and cloud-catching stories. Unlike your father ¨C I can¡¯t help this expression ¨C your rationality.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what to say.¡± ¡°I understand the suddenness of the situation. But when I heard that you were in financial jeopardy, this was the only way. Madeline Loenfield. Let me help you.¡± Marriage. ¡°¡­¡­.¡± Madeline¡¯s whole body was horrified as if cold water had been poured over her spinal cord. ¡°You always try to buy me with money, don¡¯t you?¡± In the end, she had no choice but to say those words. Such bad words. Ian¡¯s expression twisted dubiously at those words. ¡°I have never¡­¡± ¡°No, I didn¡¯t come here today to get proposed to.¡± ¡°Do you need time to think about it? I understand that this is sudden for you.¡± Ian got up from his knee. His shadow covered Madline¡¯s entire body as he got closer to her. The man was a little angry. No, he managed to hold it in. He had never had a refusal before. He was too embarrassed to get angry. Madeline¡¯s calm response seemed unexpected. ¡°No, I don¡¯t want to get married like I¡¯m being sold because of my father¡¯s debt.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a misunderstanding.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to repeat the same mistake. Ian Nottingham, your proposal¡­¡± ¡°Same mistake? Miss Loenfield, I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. Now I¡¯m not trying to insult you! Isn¡¯t that a good offer for you, too?¡± And so, the man completely lost the normalcy he had nevertheless maintained. From his appearance, Madeline felt accustomed. It reminded her of the Count who had confined her. It seemed snarky, but on the other hand, it was cruelly sad. Perhaps man was, after all, trapped in the shackles of his own nature and could not get out. But she didn¡¯t want to care any more whether or not a man lived in his own arrogance. She didn¡¯t want to be entangled any more. ¡°Master Nottingham.¡± Madeline looked sad without knowing it. She didn¡¯t know her appearance shook the man endlessly. She said in a whisper. ¡°You and I shouldn¡¯t be together.¡± ¡°Miss Loenfield, can I at least know why? I feel like a fool.¡± Ian reached out and grasped the back of Madeleine¡¯s hand. I saw his large hand flicker and tremble, and his confusion was obvious. ¡°We¡¯re the type to lead each other down miserable paths.¡± ¡°¡­¡­.¡± Ian Nottingham reached out to Madeline¡¯s face. They stared at each other in silence for a long time. Madeline¡¯s lips quivered like a mermaid in a fairy tale. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, but she couldn¡¯t do it. He lost her because of this behavior. ¡­. It was unfortunate. It was the man who turned away first. His face was full of shame and distorted anger. Madeline could only breathe after he walked straight out of the room that way. The man was gone, but somehow his shadow seemed to remain and bind Madeline. She closed her eyes. Exactly when she was 26 years old here¡­¡­