Chapter 5
The sight of the guileless governess drew a quiet snicker from Chloe.
“That’s just my personal opinion, of course. As long as you enjoy reading them, that’s what matters. So? Which one did you like best?”
Caught off guard by the sudden question, Irene immediately thought of the novel she’d even taken back to her room, staying up late into the night to finish.
“<Miss Lamour’s Secret>, I think.”
“Oh, that one. The heroine’s an etiquette instructor, isn’t she?”
It seemed Chloe’s remarkable memory held the contents of every one of the hundreds of books she had read.
Surprised, Irene nodded eagerly.
“Yes! You remembered?”
“The prose had a distinctly classical feel to it. And each noble house Miss Lamour visited had its own character. It felt as though the author had spent at least some time living among the aristocracy.”
It was an uncannily accurate assessment. Elegant prose and vivid descriptions softened what would otherwise have been lurid, sensational material, making the novel unexpectedly absorbing.
“I suppose that’s your kind of story.”
“Oh?”
“The ones where a beautiful woman wraps several men around her finger. Would you like me to recommend a few more like that?”
At that, Irene’s face flushed crimson. Flustered, she waved both hands in protest.
“No, it’s not that! I just liked the writing style…!”
“There’s no need to be embarrassed. For the record, my favorite kind is when some man goes around shamelessly chasing every woman he sees, then gets exactly what’s coming to him. Life’s been too easy for him, so he thinks he can wave the thing between his legs around however he likes… Until it all comes crashing down around and he ends up ruining himself.”
A familiar, sardonic smile tugged at Chloe’s lips as she continued mercilessly.
“The bigger the fall, the better. Remember <The Gutter Rat Prince>? I recommended that one to you. It’s actually my favorite, even if it doesn’t have the best reputation.”
Irene mentally revisited the novel, one she hadn’t particularly enjoyed. There had even been entire chapters she’d skimmed through.
The story of a prince who seduced one noble lady after another, then went on to prey upon maids and prostitutes alike, only to contract a venereal disease that rotted his flesh until he died reeking like an open sewer… There had been nothing entertaining about it. Nothing compelling, either.
“Isn’t that… just unbearably miserable?”
“That’s exactly why I read it. Besides, it’s hard to pity someone who, instead of repenting, is still groping a maid’s backside with his dying breath.”
Chloe popped a cookie into her mouth.
“Compared to my tastes, yours are positively refined, aren’t they?”
Rendered speechless, Irene couldn’t think of a reply. Taking another sip of tea, Chloe casually changed the subject.
“Of the three noble houses Miss Lamour worked for, which one did you like best? Someone as demure as you, I’d have guessed the House of Count Vallon.”
“No… Setting aside whether the story was entertaining, I didn’t think much of any of the men.”
“Oh, really? Why’s that? Because all three of them were awful? Even so, the young Count Vallon wasn’t that bad, was he?”
Finding a genuinely decent man in a popular romance novel was almost laughable. The more of them Irene read, the more she accepted that as simply part of the genre. It didn’t make the men any less disagreeable.
“I know that’s just how these stories are… but I still couldn’t like them.”
Unlike Chloe, Irene couldn’t detach herself and view them as nothing more than fiction.
Ever since her family had fallen and her father died, the world had become so hostile it was enough to leave her disillusioned. She had learned to distrust even the smallest kindness.
“Does having wealth and status really give someone the right to be arrogant?”
A trace of bitterness crept into her voice. Chloe watched her quietly for a moment before giving a small nod, as though something had finally clicked.
“I think I understand your tastes now.”
“You do?”
“You enjoy seeing arrogant men get what they deserve.”
The conclusion came so abruptly that Irene could only blink. Before she could respond, Chloe continued at her usual brisk pace.
“Maybe not to the extent of <The Gutter Rat Prince>, but I think our tastes are actually pretty similar.”
It wasn’t a comparison Irene found particularly flattering.
“Are they? I’m not so sure about that…”
“Think about what all the books you truly enjoyed have in common. The ones that kept you turning pages instead of sleeping. The thing you hope to find every time you open a new book. What is it?”
Chloe’s eyes never left Irene’s face. Her blue gaze was unwavering, as though it would accept nothing but the truth.
With all her years of teaching, Irene could easily have laughed it off or given a polite, noncommittal answer. For some reason, though, she didn’t want to.
She felt it would be disrespectful to Chloe, who was expressing her opinions so earnestly.
“…You’re right, Miss Chloe.”
In the end, it was as though something had loosened inside her. The thoughts she usually kept buried slipped quietly into the open.
“I look forward to watching men with immense wealth and power destroy themselves through their own bad choices.”
More than anything else, that was why she had enjoyed <Miss Lamour’s Secret>. Not because of Miss Lamour herself, but because each of the three men had been utterly brought low — their reputations shattered, their fortunes lost, even their minds broken.
As she spoke, Irene’s voice grew steadier.
“Men who think the world revolves around them need to learn that there are some things they simply can’t control.”
The instant the words left her mouth, Chloe’s lips slowly spread into a broad smile. For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke. Only that dangerous smile lingered between them.
“Miss Irene. I think you and I are going to get along very well.”
The exhilaration on Chloe’s angelically beautiful face was impossible to miss.
Having unintentionally overheard part of his sister’s conversation, Dominic Whitmore wondered if he’d heard correctly.
‘…Is she serious?’
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