Chapter 25
Prime Minister Robert was a man quick with calculations and decisive in action. Thanks to these traits, he was able to sway public opinion and rise to the position of Prime Minister.
“…Lord Racliffe.”
However, Claude never expected that Robert’s daughter, Elise, had inherited such capabilities.
“It’s been raining heavily today…”
“…”
Claude sat beside the unfamiliar woman, holding a pipe in his hand. Such behavior was unheard of at Buford Castle, but here on the sofa, he was Claude Racliffe.
“On days like this, accidents happen when moving about… Ah.”
He brushed away the hand of the woman who had touched his sleeve, frowning as he exhaled smoke sharply.
“Leave.”
Claude’s tone was curt.
“…Yes?”
Despite his cold voice, the woman blinked as if unsure of what was happening.
Her slight fanning caused an overwhelming scent of perfume to mix with Claude’s pipe smoke, turning into a foul stench.
Claude scrunched his nose and rose from his seat.
“Well, the rain means you can’t leave. You’ll stay here. I’ll go out.”
“…No? Lord Racliffe!”
He stopped walking, glaring at the woman who reached out to him. Startled, she closed her mouth tightly and sat down quietly.
Claude turned his head sharply; a fierce anger flashed across his face before fading.
“A love… tutor? Hah!”
Claude let out a bitter laugh and walked briskly down the corridor.
Elise had given her that nickname — “love tutor.”
These days, such a filthy profession is casually called a tutor.
“At least Felice is…!”
Claude stopped walking, pressing his lips tightly together. As soon as he spoke her name, his eyes narrowed, confronting an unpleasant truth. Yet memories flooded his mind irresistibly.
“She’s insane.”
He laughed bitterly as he recalled Felice’s bright smile when she handed him flowers.
“…Lord Racliffe! Please wait!”
A sharp voice rang out behind him. Claude’s raised smile quickly faded.
Turning his head, he saw a woman in a robe chasing after him from the hotel room.
He should have seen this coming when the meeting was arranged — damn the Roberts.
“…Ah!”
The hurried woman stumbled in her heels and fell. Fortunately, the hallway of the expensive Golden Hotel suite was carpeted with wool.
Regretting his choice, Claude left the woman behind and headed to the lobby.
“…Lord!”
The woman’s cries faded before reaching his ears.
“Baron Racliffe.”
At the hotel lobby, as Claude walked toward the front desk, the steward recognizing him hurried over.
“I’ll prepare the carriage. Please wait here for a moment.”
The steward guided him inside, hastening to please the hotel’s biggest investor.
Claude nodded shortly, sat down in a velvet chair, and pulled out his pipe again.
He desperately needed a smoke to soothe his foul mood.
After having lunch and dinner with Elise, she had escorted him to the Golden Hotel saying a gift awaited. Sitting briefly in the room, a half-naked woman suddenly entered.
Witnessing that, or rather experiencing it unfold before him, Claude momentarily couldn’t believe reality.
The naked woman sat beside him and introduced herself as the famous love tutor. She claimed she would now teach him passionate love.
Claude was dumbfounded.
Remembering the situation, he casually brushed his chest, where the woman had briefly touched.
Suddenly feeling the emptiness in his inner pocket, Claude’s hand moved again.
He normally kept a handkerchief inside…
“Ah.”
The memory that surfaced was Felice again.
Her hurried footsteps and sparkling eyes. How she jumped like a startled animal at the sight of him.
About to light his pipe, Claude lowered his hand.
“Was today the third lesson?”
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