MDIHC 38

〈038〉

Even though he was young, Unshow’s voice revealed every bit of his nasty temper, and I could see Miss Reynold flinch at it.

“Teacher. I came to escort you since it seemed you were late for class.”

Ignoring Unshow’s voice and Miss Reynold’s reaction, I calmly addressed her. At my words, Miss Reynold looked slightly overwhelmed and nodded.

Honestly, the answer was obvious. Between an angel and a devil, who in their right mind would choose the devil?

“Teacher!”

Miss Reynold tried to come toward me, but the Countess of Aitley stopped her with a sharp voice.

“To give up on a student like this—how shameful of you as an educator.”

Miss Reynold faltered at the Countess’s scolding. Being kind and dutiful, she seemed to feel responsible for failing to teach Unshow to the end.

“Where do you think you’re going, you idiot!”

Unshow pushed past the maid trying to stop him, huffing and puffing as he ran over. His small lips were tightly pressed, fists clenched, and the way he glared at Miss Reynold made him look every bit the future delinquent he was destined to be.

“You’re supposed to teach me! So I can become a great Count of Aitley!”

He was seething, his chest rising and falling rapidly. It was clear he was beyond furious—how dare someone like you abandon me, what did I ever do wrong? He had all the makings of a future regretful man.

“Clearly, the heir to the Aitley household needs home training before formal education.”

And personally, I always believed men who’d regret things later should just cry alone in a dark room forever. That would be the cleanest outcome.

“Who do you think you’re lecturing right now?”

The Countess of Aitley shot back, offended that a mere baron’s daughter dared speak to her son, the heir to a count’s family.

Her expensive, layered lace dress trembled slightly at her heaving chest. Her eyes that glared at me were savage, and her breathing came in huffs.

She was the daughter of a viscount who had long taken pride in becoming the Countess of Aitley. And she had immense pride in having birthed the heir to the Aitley household.

That was the beginning of the tragedy.

To believe her son was the most precious being in the world, to never want him to feel any form of defeat, to give him everything he desired.

“Children can act that way. They’re still young, after all. They might speak harshly, be ignorant, or even a little violent.”

I looked at her quietly.

I had always wondered—why do women become villains, boys become delinquents, and regretful men can never speak properly?

The answer stood right before me.

“But adults shouldn’t raise children that way.”

Looking at the truth I had just realized, I quietly shared my thoughts.

When I opened the door to Daniel’s room with Miss Reynold, we found him sitting at his desk, diligently studying.

“Teacher!”

As soon as he saw who had come in, Daniel cheerfully called out Miss Reynold’s name.

“Daniel, were you waiting while studying?”

Miss Reynold sounded deeply moved. It made sense—after being kicked by a little devil, she was now greeted by an angel sitting calmly at a desk, studying.

“Yes! I was studying arithmetic while waiting for you. Today, I’ll try adding numbers over ten!”

“Daniel…”

Who would have thought this would be tear-worthy? Seeing such warmth between student and teacher made my eyes well up, so I quietly closed the door. No way was I going to stand there weeping like a fool.

“Ma’am?”

Oops. Just because I closed the door didn’t mean no one was there. Lord Winchester was standing nearby.

“Seeing Daniel, who I adore, makes me tear up too.”

I quickly wiped away the tear at the corner of my eye.

“But how did you know I was there?”

Before he could answer, I hurriedly changed the subject.

“The rain was heavier than expected, so the training was canceled and I came home, only to find out from the housekeeper that you’d gone to Miss Reynold’s house and hadn’t returned. It was from her I heard you went to the Aitley household.”

“I see.”

I glanced out the window where the rain still poured. There were rainy-day training sessions, sure, but this kind of downpour made that difficult.

“I’m glad you came, Lord Winchester. Otherwise, things might have gone badly.”

Of course, the Aitley household’s guards wouldn’t have harmed me. Most likely, I’d have just been thrown out and left on the streets.

But Miss Reynold might not have been so lucky. She could have been trapped in that house indefinitely. Her aging mother might have waited endlessly, worried sick.

Being able to reassure Mrs. Reynold, keeping Miss Reynold safe, letting Daniel see her again—all of that was thanks to Lord Winchester.

“Why are you calling me Lord Winchester again?”

“Pardon?”

“You called me ‘dear’ earlier, didn’t you?”

“Oh… that…”

I remembered calling him “dear” just to provoke the Countess of Aitley. It had been a very deliberate choice.

“Is it uncomfortable to say?”

“Pardon?”

“Calling me your husband. Or ‘dear.’ Is that uncomfortable for you?”

“It’s not uncomfortable, really. I mean, technically… it’s accurate.”

He made it sound like a serious issue, and I quickly shook my head. I had no intention of backtracking on something we’d already agreed upon.

“I liked hearing it.”

He confessed in a low voice.

It wasn’t that the mood had suddenly turned romantic, or that his voice sounded sweet. The rain still poured outside, and Lord Winchester’s eyes, fixed on the window, remained calm as always.

“But when I heard from Mrs. Reynold that you still hadn’t returned, I grew worried. I had other duties, but I ran straight to the Aitley estate. And the moment I saw them trying to detain you, I found my hand was already on my sword.”

It had only happened minutes ago, yet Lord Winchester spoke as if recalling something from years past.

“And when you stood beside me, called me ‘dear,’ and linked your arm with mine… it was a feeling I’d never known before.”

At last, Lord Winchester turned away from the window and looked at me. Though he had stared out at the cold rain for a long while, there wasn’t the slightest chill in his eyes.

The way he looked at me was simply warm.

“It was different from defeating an enemy. Different from rescuing a prisoner. I don’t know what to call this feeling.”

He raised a hand and placed it over his chest. As if his feelings were locked inside and he wasn’t sure how to show them.

“I just… felt relief.”

Those were the words he carefully chose.

“So I was at ease.”

Peace spread across his face. It was the serenity of a pilgrim who had finally found his sanctuary.

It was just a wicked mother-in-law. The worst that could have happened was being dragged out and humiliated on the street, with some ruined reputation. He hadn’t saved some holy saint or a noble heroine.

He had saved me. Just me. A plain, average extra. Someone who just happened to become the heroine’s stepmother, a nameless side character no one would remember.

Even I had thought of myself that way—nothing more.

But Lord Winchester now looked as though he had retrieved the Holy Grail and completed his divine mission, his expression calm and content.

“I’m glad, my lady.”

His sincerity stirred my heart.