I Have A Terminally Ill Duke As My Husband (1 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 4
“The young lady has fair skin, so I thought a dress of this color would suit her well—and it seems I was right. Young lady, is there anywhere you feel uncomfortable?”
Seeing Mercian emerge under the attendant’s guidance, Madame approached her with evident satisfaction, adjusted the hem of her dress, and asked. Mercian shook her head in reply.
“No. It feels as if it were made just for me—so comfortable. I truly love it.”
“Hehehe, I knew it would be. Fortunately, we happened to have a few dresses in your size, so I showed them to you—but just to be safe, let’s take your measurements once more.”
“Oh… Yes…”
“What do you think, Lady Viscountess? Doesn’t it suit her perfectly?”
“Merc?”
Is that really Merc?
Penelope, who had been sitting idly with a bored expression after Lucianne finished choosing her dress, stared at Mercian in momentary surprise as she stepped out guided by the attendant, and without realizing it, nodded in response to Madame’s question.
“I see. It suits her better than I expected. Madame, your skill is quite impressive—to transform such an ordinary-looking girl into this. Wouldn’t you agree, Luci?”
“Yes, indeed. Well, an expensive dress does make all the difference.”
What’s going on? When I wore a dress, they just put it on me, but now Merc gets special treatment because she’s about to become a duchess?
Lucianne grew irritated watching Mercian, whose hairstyle and makeup changed each time she switched into another dress—unlike when Lucianne herself had tried them on.
If I had worn that dress, it would have suited me far better than Merc.
Unable to vent her frustration openly in public as she normally would, Lucianne forced a cheerful smile and said to Penelope,
“Mother, she truly seems worthy of marrying into the ducal house. To think she can afford to purchase multiple exquisite dresses like these, which we could never even dream of seeing up close! Merc, you ought to thank Mother—if not for her, would you ever have worn such a dress in your entire life?”
“Luci, you truly understand my heart. Well then—since we’ve now chosen Luci’s dresses and accessories, as well as Merc’s wedding dress and other outfits, let’s head back. Madame, you’ve done excellent work today. Please have all these dresses wrapped and delivered to the Viscount’s residence.”
Madame smiled and replied to Penelope’s words,
“Of course, Lady Viscountess. Then I’ll send all the dresses chosen by the elder young lady to the Viscount’s residence. As for the younger young lady’s wedding dress and these other dresses, I’ll send them directly to the Duke’s estate. And young lady, now that I have your measurements, I’ll make a few more dresses and send them to the Duke’s estate as well. If later you find any dress unsatisfactory or uncomfortable, please just send it back to the atelier.”
What? Send these dresses to the Duke’s estate?
Penelope, who had intended to give the dresses to Lucianne once they arrived at the Viscount’s estate, looked flustered as she spoke to Madame,
“Ah—no, please send the dress Merc just tried on to the Viscount’s estate as well. She’s only worn one so far. We need to check whether the others fit her too.”
“I’m very sorry, my lady, but that would be rather difficult. Since you’ve been so busy selecting many dresses for the elder young lady, you may have momentarily forgotten the purpose of today’s visit: we came not for her, but for the younger young lady’s wedding dress fitting, and to present the dresses prepared by the Duke himself for her. Moreover, the Duke specifically instructed that all dresses intended for the younger young lady—including the wedding dress—must be delivered directly to the ducal estate. All the sizes are identical, so if the violet dress fit well earlier, the others will surely suit the younger young lady just as perfectly.”
The Duke himself ordered them to be sent directly to the ducal estate?
“No, I’m not trying to sell the dress—I just wanted Merc to try it on again. It feels rather unpleasant.”
“I apologize, my lady, but the Duke gave such strict orders. As you know, the Duke is paying for both the elder and younger young ladies’ dresses today.”
Seeing Madame’s troubled expression, Penelope couldn’t hide her displeasure and said,
“Well… Nothing can be done, then. Let’s go.”
Penelope stood up, clearly upset that she couldn’t get the dresses as she’d wished. Mercian and Lucianne rose as well and left the atelier together.
[This is the timeline separator]Viscount Beannoman’s residence.
“How absurd—just because she’s a dressmaker, she acts so haughty! First with the wedding dress, and now over a mere handful of dresses, strutting around like she’s someone important? And Merc—even if the wedding dress is unavoidable, that other dress you wore earlier clearly suited Luci better than you. Anyone could see that! You should’ve offered it to Luci before I even had to say a word. That dress would’ve been perfect for the ball happening in two months…”
The moment Penelope returned home, she began scolding Mercian as soon as she stepped through the door.
“So now it’s my fault for not giving the dress to Luci?”
“Yes! The moment you saw it, wasn’t it obvious that it was meant for Luci?”
Mercian felt deeply wronged by Penelope’s sharp rebuke.
At the atelier today, aside from the wedding dress, Mercian had only acquired three dresses pre-ordered by the ducal estate. Meanwhile, Lucianne had already bought over twenty—and now Penelope even wanted those three?
It’s my wedding—how can they show no interest in it at all, yet worry incessantly about a ball still more than two months away?
Even if I’m unlovable to you, I’ll soon leave this household—couldn’t you at least show me a little care?
“Mother, are you serious?”
“You’ll get even better dresses once you’re at the ducal estate—can’t you even spare this one for your elder sister? Besides, you must know yourself: if it looked that good on you, imagine how much more stunning Luci would look in it.”
Lucianne handed a cup of tea to Penelope as she spoke.
“Mother, just drop it. She only ever thinks of herself. She probably just wanted to boast about becoming a duchess, even if only for six months. Please stop—getting angry will only hurt you.”
“Yes, I truly only have Luci. Don’t worry—I’ll buy you a dress far better than the one Merc wore today.”
Only thinks of herself? Me?
“Luci, if you’re so envious that I’m becoming duchess, it’s not too late. You can marry in my place.”
Mercian could no longer contain her anger at Penelope and Lucianne’s conversation.
“What?”
“If you envy this marriage so much, you take it. I have no regrets. Why should I go through with this? I’m only twenty—with a bright future ahead. Do you think I’ll die if I don’t get married? Think about it—you’re two years older than me; shouldn’t you be in more of a hurry to marry? So I’ll let you have it. Go ahead and marry the Duke. I won’t stop you.”
“Are you cursing me now? How dare you tell your own elder sister to marry a man with a death sentence hanging over him? I knew you disliked me, but I never imagined you’d heap such a curse upon me!”
A curse? You call that a curse?
The things I just said are less than one percent of all the harsh words you’ve shouted at me over the years—despite pretending to be kind and considerate in front of others, then unleashing all your stress on me the moment you came home.
Mercian was utterly dumbfounded by Lucianne’s accusation.
Though Penelope and Lucianne treated Mercian as a lazy, gluttonous nuisance, in truth Mercian worked harder and more diligently than anyone else in the Viscount’s household.
After Charles died and the family fortunes declined, even their last remaining maid was dismissed, leaving Mercian to shoulder all household chores. Yet instead of gratitude, Penelope and Lucianne often scolded her for supposedly doing things poorly.
Whenever Mercian finally spoke up to defend herself after enduring too much, Lucianne would burst into tears and run to Penelope to complain—and without bothering to understand the situation, Penelope would immediately lash out at Mercian.
Knowing her words would never change anything—and only exhaust her further—Mercian had always swallowed her grievances silently. But this time, pushed beyond her limit by Lucianne’s unreasonable demands, she finally shouted,
“Sister, shall I really unleash a true curse on you?”
At Mercian’s venomous glare, Lucianne flinched and stumbled backward in fear.
Normally, Mercian never reacted no matter what Lucianne said—but everyone in the household knew that once Mercian truly lost her temper, no one dared speak to her until she calmed down herself. Terrified, Lucianne quickly hid behind Penelope and cried out,
“M-Merc, please fix that temper of yours! If you act like this at the ducal estate, you might get divorced before the Duke even dies! I don’t know what’ll happen after he dies, but being cast out by a dying husband would be even more humiliating!”
Who’s the one hurling curses at her own younger sister and telling her to fix her temper?
Mercian forced down her anger and glared at Lucianne, who was cowering behind Penelope,
“A dying husband? Luci, stop it. Even my patience has its limits.”
“You just said you’re holding back? Mother, look at Merc! Ever since that attendant at the atelier praised her a bit, she’s acting as if she’s already the real duchess! Merc, please wake up! You’re not the real duchess—you’re just a temporary one with six months to live, yet you strut around like you own the place. I didn’t want to say this, but do you really think someone like you, who doesn’t even understand noble etiquette, will receive proper respect in that arrogant ducal household? You’ll be lucky if the servants don’t outright ignore you! Merc, I’m truly giving you this advice for your own good—don’t come back here empty-handed in six months and regret it. Please, get a grip! Didn’t we go to the atelier in good spirits, only to have our moods ruined for nothing!”
Seemingly frightened by Mercian’s glare, Lucianne immediately turned and fled to her room without looking back.
“You truly disappoint me in every single way. Your sister already has a fragile constitution—what if you give her an illness from stress? If anything serious happens to Luci, I won’t let you off lightly—remember that!”
Penelope scolded Mercian, then followed Lucianne to her room with a worried expression.
Mercian, without even realizing it, sank down onto the floor.
Couldn’t you just once—just once—see things from my perspective?
She had taken on every difficult chore in the household, hoping to earn Penelope’s approval, never once complaining—and obeyed every word Penelope said. Yet all she ever received in return was criticism, contempt, and indifference.
No matter how hard I try, to Mother, I’ll never be a daughter—only Luci is.
That’s it. I’ve truly had enough.
I won’t beg for love or attention from Mother anymore.
Mercian wiped away her tears, which fell despite her will, and muttered to herself,
“I’ll consider the dowry and the rest of the money as repayment for raising me all these years.”
After six months, I’ll leave the ducal estate and go somewhere no one knows me.
And there, I’ll live freely, without anyone’s interference!
Mercian sat alone, silently crying for a long while, careful not to let anyone hear her resolve.
One week later.
The wedding between Viscountess Mercian Beannoman and Duke Luan Canoluph was held.
When the male lead is punished by carrying the female lead’s child and having periods like a woman
“I’ve given birth to two children for you, yet you still think about him.
Was I nothing but his substitute to you from beginning to end?”
Synopsis:
Meng Huan, a scumbag who has dated countless girlfriends, transmigrates to a female-dominated country.
Day 1: Whether it’s female dominance or not doesn’t matter. The beauties here are passionate and amorous. Isn’t it easier to date them than in modern times?
Day 2: After a night, Meng Huan discovers the differences in the female-dominated world. Men here actually have chastity locks and menstrual cycles. This hinders his ability to perform, damn it!
Day 3: What’s wrong with sleeping around? I don’t want you to marry me. I’m meant to be a playboy. I don’t care about male virtues… What? You want to drown me in a pig cage? Marry, I’ll marry!
Day N: Meng Huan inexplicably vomits and receives the shocking news of his life… He’s pregnant.
_____
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