Chapter 39
At Christian’s unexpected move, Cairn offered a polite smile.
“Good evening.”
“You didn’t even bother with the usual ‘How have you been?’ formality—probably because Lilien isn’t by my side, am I right?”
“You know me well.”
Cairn’s gaze quickly swept the area around Christian.
“Are you looking for Lili?”
Christian’s expression was unreadable, but there was a hint of mischief behind his deadpan tone—he knew exactly what Cairn was doing.
“She said she wanted to speak with someone for a bit, so I stepped aside. What was his name… Victor Regid, I believe?”
For a moment, Cairn’s composure slipped—just as Christian expected. There was no way Cairn wouldn’t notice another man hanging around Lilien.
The perfectly maintained smile on Cairn’s face began to warp ever so slightly. For today, Victor was the enemy of Christian’s enemy, making them accidental allies.
A small, sly grin played at Christian’s lips.
“I think the two of them went out that way.”
Christian’s annoyingly nonchalant finger pointed toward the back exit of the hall.
Cairn hesitated, then lifted his chin and looked down at Christian.
“By the way, Lord Grenor, you’re still on such familiar terms with Lady de Bermore. Wouldn’t it be proper to use her formal title in a public setting?”
Even now, Christian found Cairn deeply disagreeable—especially when it came to anything concerning Lilien. It wasn’t just Victor who received Cairn’s cold ire; any man at Lilien’s side got the same treatment.
“And why should I?”
But Christian had the upper hand on Cairn, today even his quarrel felt welcome.
“Unlike you, Lord Headington, Lili and I are family. Formality seems unnecessary—public or private.”
Normally, Cairn always came out on top in these kinds of exchanges, but today, Christian had the upper hand. Even when Cairn’s gaze grew icy, Christian remained unruffled.
“By the way, aren’t you busy, Lord Headington?”
He gently reminded Cairn, as if to say, your precious Lilien is currently alone with another man.
“I’ll take my leave, then.”
Cairn strode away with his usual grace, but Christian wasn’t fooled—he noticed how Cairn’s strides had grown noticeably longer.
* * *
Walking down a deserted corridor, Cairn’s mood soured further. At the end of the hallway with the hall’s rear exit, he caught a glimpse of the garden, where white narcissus flowers were in full bloom—an idyllic, romantic backdrop for whatever was happening between Lilien and Victor.
As he drew closer to the exit, a gentle male voice floated down the hall. Cairn’s steps faltered for a moment.
“Lady de Bermore, about that day—it was entirely my fault.”
Cairn felt his patience snap. Just thinking that Victor—Klatt’s infamous playboy—might have wronged Lilien was enough to make his hands clench into fists.
“If you’d just give me a chance—”
Such a cheap line, Cairn thought with disdain.
He was sure Lilien, kind as she was, wouldn’t be able to turn Victor down. She’d been talking about marriage more often lately; maybe she’d even welcome his advances.
Determined to intervene, Cairn headed toward the voices, ready to separate them if necessary. Just as he reached the open exit and felt the soft breeze, he heard Lilien’s gentle but clear voice:
“Um… Lord Regid.”
Her tone was as soft and polite as ever.
“But I… I have no intention of seeing you like that.”
Cairn stopped dead in his tracks.
Unexpectedly, her simple answer made all his anger dissipate like afternoon mist—only to be replaced by an unfamiliar sense of unease.
“I’m sorry, but I think it’s best we avoid private meetings from now on. Especially just the two of us, in a secluded garden like this.”
Her voice was the same as always, but the Lilien who could firmly refuse someone’s request felt like a stranger to him.
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