There Is No Paradise Where I Ran Away To (14 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 62

Vivian, who hadn’t attended the luncheon, finished her meal in her room. After the servants came to collect the empty dishes, Vivian enjoyed a comfortable sunbath beneath the autumn afternoon sunlight. Sophie, ever discontent, kept grumbling and dragging her feet.

“No matter how I think about it, this is clearly intentional.”

Vivian, who had been reading a book in her wingback chair with sunlight as her spotlight, lifted her eyes.

“To place the Duke’s and the young lady’s bedrooms so far apart like this…”

While Vivian herself felt relieved by the increased distance, Sophie, as an outsider, complained as though she’d suffered some grave injustice.

“Everyone’s just jealous of the Duke and the young lady. They must think the Duke’s feelings will change because of it. But honestly, Miss Chadwick and the Duke don’t suit each other at all. If the Duke ever betrays the young lady and marries Miss Chadwick, I absolutely won’t treat Miss Chadwick as my mistress.”

“Sophie.”

Vivian snapped her book shut, her voice firm and authoritative, as if scolding her for such reckless talk.

She had hoped the truth revealed at the ball would quell the spreading rumors. But it takes two hands to clap—since Edwin showed no intention of clarifying the rumors, malicious gossip only gained more traction.

Frankly, having her throat squeezed or being shot, or even having her flesh scrutinized while being dragged through mud—any of those would have been preferable to being labeled as the lover or mistress of a man sharpening the blade of vengeance.

Vivian touched the spot on her chest where he had bitten her. The bruise remained. Whenever she brought to mind that lingering mark, the pain from that day returned with it, along with the sensation of his scorching lips imprinting themselves onto her skin.

It was often said that disreputable men could feel lust even for women they didn’t love. Edwin was precisely the kind of man who belonged within that circle of disreputable men.

She had no desire to interpret every action of such a man. It would have been enough to simply forget. What had happened in the carriage that day could remain a secret known only to the two of them, buried deep within their memories until it became as if it had never occurred.

Just as the bruises on her chest and neck would eventually fade with time, so too would the sensations of that day be eroded and washed away by the tides of time, growing ever fainter.

“Sophie. By the way, is Viscount Quinlan truly unable to come to the palace?”

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