An Incomplete Divorce (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 16
Great Hill, plunged into premature darkness due to the grim weather, felt ominous.
Diane, who had been tracing the tip of Johann’s shoe with her lowered gaze, slowly lifted her head.
When it had been hanging there, he hadn’t spared it a single glance.
He truly was a strange man. Though, admittedly, that was part of Duke Johann Leopold’s charm.
She had no choice but to resort to an exceptional measure.
“It’s a painting by that artist.”
His perfectly arched eyebrows lifted slightly, as if asking, “Which one?”
“Andreiya Nikolai. The painter I mentioned before.”
The painter she’d mentioned before…
Johann narrowed his brows, staring at the spot where Olivia’s portrait had once hung. In its place, the Duke of Edinburgh now gazed back with such dignified severity it seemed as if he were saying, “You utter fool.”
“Ah. That painter.”
One of the names he’d lazily let slip past his ears—so long as it wasn’t Edgar Lancaster Lancelot—suddenly resurfaced.
It had been roughly three months since their wedding. Glancing at the barren walls of Great Hill, a household with virtually no history, the Crown Prince had clicked his tongue and recommended the artist.
He’d added that the painter had graduated top of his class from the Royal Academy of Art and won the Grand Prize at the Salon Exhibition.
It hadn’t mattered to him in the slightest. Such trivial nuisances were beneath his concern. Thus, he’d delegated everything to Maurice.
He’d merely commissioned three portraits and received a report stating the artist had signed a contract to reside in the annex for five months to complete the work.
Johann slowly turned his head from the spot where his eyes had lingered, chasing Olivia’s fading image, and fixed his gaze on his own portrait.
He recalled the face of the man who had painted him.
He remembered him as a delicate, almost scholarly-looking fellow—someone who seemed to know nothing but art. Upon seeing the finished work, he’d judged the man competent enough.
Five months spent in the annex…
Ha! Johann sneered.
There was no greater fool than himself.
“Those things.”
His eyes, brimming with irritation, darted toward the painting and then dropped away.
“Remove them all.”
With a face revealing no emotion, Johann turned and ascended the stairs toward his study.
At the landing, the broad leaves of an ornamental tropical plant cast wide shadows that seemed to snag at his ankles.
‘I love you.’
A sense of hollowness washed over him.
Perhaps his wife’s “I love you” had never been a confession meant for him at all.
She was a woman ensnared in her grandfather’s sordid trap, sold off for money. From Olivia’s perspective, he was nothing more than a buyer who’d purchased damaged goods solely to claim a title.
Thus, she had absolutely no reason to love him.
[This is the timeline separator]Shortly after the minor commotion over the portrait, Maurice summoned Diane Brook to his office.
“Please, have a seat.”
Was there anyone capable of perfectly concealing their expressions? If so, Maurice mused as he watched the woman settle into the chair across from him, it might well be Diane Brook.
Whether she realized she’d overstepped or not, her brazen attitude—as if nothing had happened—was infuriating.
He’d long resented the way she acted as mistress of the ducal household whenever the Duchess was present.
“I asked you here to clarify a few matters.”
“Go ahead.”
“That day—the day of the lake incident.”
Diane looked at Maurice, her expression betraying genuine surprise.
“Why bring that up all of a sudden?”
“Could you please recount your schedule that day, hour by hour?”
Diane carefully smoothed her tense expression and asked calmly,
“It’s not difficult to tell you… but this is rather abrupt. Has something happened?”
“The Duke is suspicious.”
“The Duke?”
Maurice nodded.
“How odd. Why would he take an interest in that day, of all days, after so long?”
Diane lowered her gaze as if recalling the past, though her heart pounded rapidly. Before her eyes, the lakeside at night unfolded again. The air grew heavy. The mist clinging to the shore felt damp.
Olivia had no idea that Diane had decided to apply after seeing the ducal household’s secretary recruitment notice in the newspaper.
Thoroughly. Perfectly.
She had resolved to destroy her.
“…It was raining since morning that day.”
Diane began her account slowly.
“My carriage skidded on the wet road, causing a traffic jam, so I arrived about thirty minutes late. It was my first time being late since starting work at the ducal residence, so the memory is vivid. But otherwise, it was an ordinary day—as it was for the Duchess, too.”
Diane continued her story with deliberate care, while Maurice took notes and occasionally glanced up at her.
“When I arrived, two letters had come for the Duchess—one was a courtesy letter from the comital household, and the other bore no sender’s name, so I couldn’t say who it was from. As I recall, she seemed upset after reading that one.”
“Anyone you suspect?”
“Of course I do. But out of respect for the Duchess’s honor, please don’t press further. It’s only a guess on my part. My opinion hardly matters, does it?”
She was alluding to Olivia’s rumored lover. Maurice, sharp as he was, couldn’t possibly miss the implication.
“We’d had such letters occasionally before, so I didn’t pay it much heed.”
“Letters with no sender?”
“Yes. Two or three times, I believe.”
Diane subtly steered Maurice into believing those letters were farewell notes from departing lovers. She was exceptionally skilled at shaping narratives to her advantage in any situation.
“She skipped lunch that day, so I brought her food—but she seemed to be crying. Since it wasn’t a sight to see, I turned around and left without entering.”
“Are those letters preserved anywhere?”
“No. She burned them.”
“I see…”
Maurice trailed off with a look of regret.
“She stayed in her bedroom until she called for me later, saying she wanted to order a summer dress.”
“Was she alone in her room?”
“She was with a maid.”
“Anything unusual?”
“Given how emotionally volatile she was, I didn’t find it particularly odd. You know that, right?”
“Is the maid currently traveling with the Duchess?”
“Yes. Her name was Anne, I believe.”
“What time did Madame Gabrielle arrive?”
“She arrived around three. She helped the Duchess choose a dress from the new catalog, remarked that she seemed a bit thinner than last time, retook her measurements, and left shortly before five.”
Hmm. Maurice grunted softly, scratching his temple with the tip of his fountain pen.
“And the incident occurred three hours later… What were you doing during that time, Miss Brook?”
“As I mentioned before, I was organizing invoices in the office and left just before six.”
“So you have no knowledge of the Duchess’s whereabouts after that.”
“Unfortunately, no. I should have stayed…”
Diane’s brow furrowed in apparent self-reproach.
“I understood that she usually stayed overnight at the manor when it rained—like a few days ago.”
“Of course. But that day, I had urgent matters at my family home and had to go.”
A brief silence fell between them. Maurice pored over his notepad. The more he examined the incident, the more inconsistencies he found.
“Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”
Diane swallowed hard internally but forced herself to ask,
“What’s odd?”
“That someone planning to take their own life would go about ordering a new dress.”
That was Maurice’s common sense speaking. He suspected the Duke himself must have been troubled by this very point, prompting the investigation. Such a reaction was only natural.
“Perhaps she decided to die only after having the dress fitted. You know how unpredictable she was—the late Duchess, I mean.”
Diane spoke dismissively, with a faintly sarcastic edge.
Right. That’s exactly why I’ve always disliked this woman, Maurice realized anew, and pressed on.
“There was a maid who resigned a few days after the incident. Do you happen to know anything about her?”
She had been one of the kitchen maids assisting Head Cook Mrs. Hanna.
“She ran off in the night, didn’t she? The other maids said she might have been pregnant. Isn’t that fairly common?”
Among servants, romantic entanglements were frequent. Most ended in marriage, but when the man was already married, maids often fled just like this.
“Huuu…”
Maurice exhaled slowly.
Since beginning his investigation, he’d interviewed the head butler, head housemaid, and now the Duchess’s secretary—yet found nothing substantial.
“You may go.”
Diane stood. As she turned to leave, Maurice called out,
“Délite, isn’t it?”
Diane turned back to look at him.
“The perfume.”
“Yes, that’s right. How did you know?”
Maurice didn’t miss the slight flinch of the woman who so elegantly mimicked the late Duchess.
“I chose the Duchess’s birthday gift myself—on the department store clerk’s recommendation.”
“…”
“The Duke is such a busy man, after all.”
Maurice gave a small, knowing smile.
Diane offered a polite smile, bowed, and exited the office, walking down the corridor with perfect posture and grace.
The moment she stepped into her room, her face flushed crimson. She stormed over to her vanity and hurled the blue bottle straight into the trash.
[This is the timeline separator]Madame Lauren stormed in again, this time with the finished dress, shortly before five in the afternoon—just an hour before the ball.
“Good heavens! Eve Laurence!”
Elaine gasped in delighted astonishment.
The green dress lay neatly arranged on the bed, its waist embellishments shimmering brilliantly in the dying hues of sunset.
Olivia, who had requested a simple silhouette with minimal exposure, gazed at the garment with mild dismay. Somehow, there’d been a slight miscommunication with the designer.
“Well? Hurry up and put it on. We’ll be late.”
Elaine, already dressed and waiting, gave Marie and Anne a meaningful look.
“But…”
“Come now, quickly.”
With tremendous vigor, Elaine seized Olivia’s hesitant arm and handed her over to Anne.
Moments later, Olivia emerged from the dressing room.
Just as expected.
Gasps of admiration rippled through the room. The dress was flawless.
Bathed in golden sunlight, Olivia’s figure was dazzling.
Male lead reborn without memories — but he still falls for her.
The person he finds displeasing in this life turns out to be his cherished wife-master in previous life…
Xie Zhi and Fang Xianxing who had known each other for less than three days through a blind date sat in the same car in front of the civil affairs bureau. They had a disagreement and failed to get married.
Xie Zhi immediately took out his phone, slid through his contacts, and randomly selected the next marriage candidate.
The woman snatched his phone and hung up. Looking at his phone wallpaper, she awkwardly changed the subject: “An ancient painting, eh? It looks pretty good, it’s just that the person in the painting looks a bit like me.”
When he heard this, he sarcastically mocked her for being so delusional, completely unaware that, the person in front of him was the reincarnation of Wen Ru, the famous prime minister of Yuan Shun whom he most admired…
The female CEO who doesn’t want to get married with a divorce agreement in hand × The male archaeological researcher who will only get married if he’s sure he can get divorced
This story deserves more hype. People should know more about this.
Sounds like someone is planning to make a misunderstanding between our couple
Here we go again, poor Olivia always getting hurt by men