Chapter 102
“But Miss Felice, what do you think of Julian Vale?”
“…Excuse me?”
Felice, who had been looking down the hallway, flinched in surprise.
Her reaction made it clear that they did know each other, which only made Claude’s insides twist even more. Though he kept his smile and clenched his teeth.
“Well… he’s a talented artist.”
“And as a man? He’s rather handsome, don’t you think? Quite popular among the ladies, I hear.”
“As a man?”
Felice furrowed her brows.
“Well, I mean… as a man…? I’ve honestly never really thought about it.”
She shook her head, as if she had never even considered the idea.
“Really?”
Claude smiled brightly.
There were plenty of noblewomen who found themselves infatuated with the artists they sponsored. For a moment, he’d worried Felice might also have a soft spot for Julian after seeing his work.
But fortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case.
“Why do you ask all of a sudden?”
Felice tilted her head, puzzled.
“…It’s nothing.”
Claude’s smile grew in satisfaction.
* * *
Felice swallowed hard at the smile on his face.
Was he trying to find out something about her previous relationships? Maybe he wanted to get information from an old flame, just like he’d done to learn more about Lady Elise’s former lover.
With the real culprit behind the incident at the Legrand estate still on the loose, Felice felt sweat bead at her temples as she gave a somewhat awkward smile.
She sensed that if she kept talking, she’d end up tangled in more lies. Luckily, Claude didn’t ask her any more questions. Instead, he turned his clear blue gaze forward with a subtle smile. Felice glanced at him, then quickly lowered her eyes.
It was obvious Claude was pleased—he seemed to enjoy showing off his ability to command Felice in front of Lady Elise. Realizing that this was what made him happy left Felice with a stinging ache in her chest.
“To be safe, should we enter the gallery separately, Claude?”
Felice suggested, just before they went back in.
“Sure, let’s do that.”
Claude agreed easily.
Even though the suggestion had come from Felice, she couldn’t hide her disappointment at how readily he accepted.
“Felice?”
Taking half a step to the side, Claude reached out and gently pressed the back of his hand to her forehead with a concerned look.
“Are you feeling unwell?”
The warm hand on her heart made Felice’s heart flutter helplessly.
Claude liked someone else. And she was supposed to help him win that other lady’s heart.
“…No, I’m fine.”
Felice gently pushed his hand away, answering as calmly as she could.
“Felice.”
At the sound of her name, the doors opened, and the two of them entered the gallery again—keeping a slight distance between them.
Luckily, from that point on, Felice didn’t have to pretend to be okay around Claude. There were plenty of artists eager to win the wealthy baron’s favor, and they flocked to him at once, hoping to present their paintings.
While Claude’s gaze did land on Felice now and then, she quickly made her way toward the Marchioness Depende. After all, staying close to the Marchioness was the best way to keep up the lie they’d constructed together.
Hiding her hurt, Felice approached Marchioness Depende, who was surrounded by a cluster of noblewomen, all deep in conversation about art.
“Oh, Lady Felice!”
One of the ladies noticed her at once. It was Delizie, now Mrs. Whitcombe, who had married about three years ago.
“It’s been so long, Mrs. Whitcombe. How have you been?”
“It really has! Has it been since your debut five years ago? Oh, and we met at the funeral too. I suppose this is the first time since then.”
Delizie smiled brightly, and Felice nodded before preparing to bring up Annie to the Marchioness in front of the others.
But Delizie didn’t stop chatting.
“Oh my, Lady Felice, that ring on your hand! It’s gorgeous! What is it?”
“This? Oh… it’s…”
“Isn’t that a Weatherby ring? The kind only the royal family can get? My goodness, how did you ever get your hands on one? I tried to get my husband to find one, but even he couldn’t manage it…”
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