Chapter 73
“Cl-Claude, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen—”
“It’s all right.”
Claude gently tapped the back of Felice’s hand.
“This isn’t your fault.”
His words soothed her, and Felice felt a sudden rush of emotion well up in her chest. It was as if Claude knew exactly what she needed to hear at that moment.
He really is a prince, she thought, biting her lip and swallowing the urge to cry, moved by the generosity of his spirit. Even though there had already been a scene, Felice resolved not to trouble him any further—she would have to be strong.
Felice balled one fist tightly and took a deep breath.
When they reached the front gate, they found a guard, two servants, and her father waiting there. Thankfully, he wasn’t restrained—he hadn’t caused a big enough scene for that.
Even so, Felice felt a wave of relief wash over her.
“Ha! I knew it!”
Baron Kelton pointed a finger at Claude, his smile wide but his eyes burning with anger.
“So you’re the one seducing my daughter!”
His gaze was filled with greedy ambition.
“You think you can take my daughter without a dowry just because I’m stuck in a hospital? Huh?! And what, a Racliffe? A Racliffe thinks he’s better than the Keltons?!”
“Miss Felice is currently working here at our estate.”
“…Working?”
“She’s serving as a governess for Thomas the gardener’s child, Annie.”
Claude’s tone remained even.
“You little brat, don’t think you can fool your elders! Who hires a governess like this, huh? Felice! Tell me! How much did he offer you, huh?”
It was a crude thing to say to his own daughter. Claude, perhaps wanting to spare Felice further embarrassment, dismissed the servants and even the guard, who protested, but Claude insisted.
“Claude, let me talk to my father alone.”
Felice said, stepping away. She turned to her father, who already looked unsteady, the stench of alcohol clinging to him.
“Father, this is Baron Racliffe’s home. Please, let’s not cause any more trouble—”
“Oh, so you’d throw away your father for some man? Turn your back on the Kelton family?”
Baron Kelton swung his cane, glaring at her, but then staggered and nearly fell before Felice caught him.
“I know you paid off Grigsby for two months’ worth of debt. Where’d you get that kind of money, huh? Just by being a governess? You think I’m stupid?”
Felice looked at her drunken father with a heart already battered and bruised. Whenever he drank, he turned violent and cruel with his words. When sober, he’d sometimes apologize, insisting he hadn’t meant it, but after years, even those apologies had dried up.
“Father…”
Felice bit her lip, but took his hand, steadying him.
“I think I should take him home. I’m sorry to ask this, but… would you allow me a short leave? I promise to return by tomorrow.”
“What are you saying, Felice!”
Her father struggled, but she was used to this and held firm.
“Felice.”
As the sky burned with the red of sunset, Claude called her name, his voice low and dark. The sound startled not just Felice, but even her father, who fell silent.
Claude took a deep breath and hesitated, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them to look at Baron Kelton.
“As your employer, I’m afraid I can’t grant you a leave. If you’re going, I’ll be coming with you. We’ll see you safely to the hospital and then return together.”
“But—”
“I’m sorry, Felice. No leave.”
He cut her off and gestured to a servant waiting nearby.
“Prepare two carriages.”
* * *
Felice assumed that she and her father would ride together in one carriage, while a disgruntled Claude would travel alone in the other. But instead, her father and the guard rode together, and Felice found herself sharing a carriage with Claude.
She worried her father might misunderstand, but Claude didn’t seem the least bit concerned. Inside the carriage, Felice glanced at him.
This time, instead of looking at her, Claude stared out the window.
Silence settled between them. Felice, uncertain how to begin, finally heard Claude break the quiet.
“…My father never liked me.”
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