“It’s the era of free love, Grandmother. What’s the problem with dating after divorce? Better than my mom, right, Brother?”

Johan responded by simply glancing at his watch, adorned with a delicate gold design.

“The problem is the freedom in relationships. Young ladies give their hearts away too easily. They don’t realize how shallow the men are who take them.”

The Duchess clicked her tongue.

“No matter how times change, the essence remains the same. Remember that. Even in the era of free love, women are the ones who suffer when marriages don’t follow. Just look at Elena.”

Elena Blanchett. Olivia’s mother.

Johan’s plan to show his face briefly at the party and leave was thwarted by the scandal caused by his ex-wife.

“Young ladies nowadays wander alone without a maid, sit in the same room with men for lectures, and dance scandalous dances.”

“It’s the tango, Grandmother.”

Florin commented with a smile. Johan gazed tiredly at his brandy glass, now devoid of ice.

“It doesn’t matter what it’s called. In my day, even waltzes were danced only in front of parents. A woman should be modest in her behavior. Look at Josephine. She only dances the quadrille, so reserved. It’s rare to find such a lady these days. I’ve long earmarked her as Johan’s match. Now the opportunity has come.”

Margaret looked sternly at Johan, signaling the start of nagging that had been quiet for three years. It was a moment that also highlighted the absence of a wife.

“It must be fate, Grandmother.”

Florin, siding with his friend Josephine, joined in.

“Miss Josephine is guaranteed by me. An impeccable lady for a Duchess. Her piano skills are probably the best among Londoss’s ladies. I have a good ear. Despite her talent, she never neglects practice. Be it singing or painting, she excels in everything. Right, Johan?”
“That girl, her embroidery skills are also first-class. I heard she attended today’s party—”

As Johan stood up, the Margaret sisters stopped talking and all glared at him in unison.

“Johan!”

“Let’s talk about this next year, shall we? Stay healthy, Grandmother.”

Approaching Margaret, Johan leaned in for a light kiss on her cheek and then politely greeted the ladies. The sound of the old ladies’ lectures faded away as Johan turned his back.

“At twenty-eight, one should already have children, Johan.”

“Young people think springtime lasts forever. Then they regret it. Spring is but a blink of an eye!”

The tsk-tsk-tsk sounds of disapproval ceased as the lounge door closed behind him.

Johan strode down the hallway, his previously polite smile long gone. His expression was indifferent, but the white-knuckled grip of his clenched fist betrayed his inner turmoil.

Olivia Blanchett.

As he repeated the name of his former wife, a dormant anger began to stir within him. It was an emotion he hadn’t felt during their shared life. Was it because the subject was Edgar?

Lost in thought, Johan was about to pass the terrace when a group of unwelcome individuals surrounded him. He stopped in his tracks.

If only they had a bit of tact.

Among them were many fools itching to belittle Johan, the newly named Duke Leopold, especially those close like distant cousins.

“Your ex-wife is gaining quite a reputation in Brita.”

The unwanted attention was annoying. Johan had almost forgotten the conveniences of marriage, albeit temporary.

“It remains to be seen whether she’ll become the Duchess of Lancelot. How does it feel? The photos were quite charming.”

Johan’s expression turned icy at his cousin’s insinuation.

“Were the two of you involved in that way?”

“Surely not while sharing a bed with you?”

Johan closed his eyes slowly before glaring at his cousin.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

“Lighten up, Johan. On a day like this. At least you divorced before getting cuckolded. Otherwise, you might have ended up presenting a cuckoo’s child as your grandmother’s great-grandson— Ugh!”

Johan’s fist flew.