My Mistress Became My Wife (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 100

Whoosh, heavy rain poured down since early morning. Lily translated the contract given to her by Earl Stacy, using the sound of rain as background music. The contract was only ten pages long, yet the problem was that it was filled with too many unfamiliar words.

In a way, it was only natural—she knew nothing about business. Even when she looked up words in a Garta dictionary, she often found herself frowning in confusion, unable to grasp their meanings easily, so her progress was painfully slow.

“I should go to the library and borrow an Imperial dictionary.”

Outside the window, the heavy rain continued to pour. Going out in such foul weather seemed foolish, but she had no choice—she wanted to finish translating the contract as soon as possible. Only then could she get paid by Earl Stacy and move on to her next assignment, so hurrying was the right thing to do.

She packed the contract and her translated pages into her bag, and as she turned around, her eyes fell upon a vase filled with pink roses. The maid had arranged the flowers Harold had given her beautifully. Perhaps she’d used some special method, for even after two days, the roses remained fresh.

Two days. That was also how long it had been since she’d last seen Harold. After sending her a bouquet of roses along with an apologetic letter, Harold hadn’t shown up again. With no word about when he might return, she felt both frustrated and worried—something might have happened. The Harold she knew wasn’t the type to vanish without a word.

“Should I ask Sir Lamport?”

He was Harold’s aide—surely he’d know something.

Remembering Dillon’s cold expression directed at her, Lily gave a bitter smile. She’d known from their very first meeting that he didn’t like her. And because she understood exactly why, his distant attitude toward her was perfectly understandable.

But what baffled her was how he always seemed to sense the moment she stepped out of her room and followed her like a ghost. Whenever she asked him why, he refused to give a reason—just stubbornly insisted on coming along, which was even more absurd.

“He really is a strange man.”

Would someone like him even give her a proper answer if she asked?

Though doubtful, Lily had no one else to turn to. Deciding she’d wait another day or two, and if there was still no word from Harold, she’d ask Dillon—she tugged at the bell cord halfheartedly.

Moments later, Emily entered with a knock. Harry appeared behind her as well. Finding the siblings who went everywhere together endearing, Lily smiled faintly and said,

“Emily, help me get ready—I’m going out.”

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