Episode 35

Just after Logan left her, Elouise walked a little—barely any distance at all—before she sank to the ground.

Tears began to fall. She couldn’t bring herself to sob out loud, afraid someone might see her, afraid she’d draw attention. So, she cried in silence, thick tears dropping steadily as she pressed her hand to her mouth. It was then she realized just how deeply exhausted she was.

This is what I get for coveting wealth beyond my station.

The heartbreaking truth was that Elouise’s anger was turning inward. Tracing it all back, everything had begun the day she met Marcus. Accepting a ridiculous offer and starting a relationship built on lies—what had she been thinking?

If she kept unraveling the thread, she could say it all started when she came to Cliff. Or even go further—perhaps blame it on her own birth. But Elouise didn’t go that far.

Back then, she had needed a break. So had Juliet. The problem was, instead of resting here, she’d begun some bizarre charade—and that, she felt, had sparked all of this.

Coveting a diamond far beyond her means. Meeting a strange man. Falling in love with him. Then being forced to watch, helplessly, as the man she loved laughed with a woman she despised.

She loathed the Duchess of Bellona. Taking care of Juliet was hard enough—now she had to manage her own heart as well.

And Marcus Hanger, clueless as ever, was kind to her, only making things worse. Now her presence in Cliff had even started spreading as gossip.

She didn’t care about the local ladies tormenting her. What mattered was that she couldn’t afford to leave Maine.

She recalled Lady Jenkins sneering at her. If the rumors her cousin spread were true, it was only a matter of time before Elouise’s story reached Maine. On top of that, Lady Johnston was supposedly negotiating a marriage with one of Maine's noble families.

Elouise Starwood, despite the bold words she’d thrown at Lady Jenkins, was not Lady Hanger.

She’d have to return to Maine soon. And the moment she did, word of her marriage would spread.

No—perhaps it’s already spread.

They’d say she was shameless.

Even if her contract marriage didn’t come to light, the story of a woman who married a stranger within days of arriving in Cliff and then returned home alone—it would be scandal enough.

She’d no longer be able to work as a governess. Juliet might even struggle to locate another job. And where would she find another Abigail Rependers?

If only I could leave Maine entirely!

If she were like other women, she could simply vanish. With a 122-carat diamond in hand, what did it matter?

But the Starwood estate was not something she could simply walk away from. She couldn’t abandon the home where her childhood memories lingered. And if—just if—her missing father were to return…

The thought sent a fresh wave of sorrow crashing through her.

If Father came back to find the Starwood estate in ruins…

After Louise's death, she had waited only for her father.

Her missing father, Juliet aside, was her only living blood relative—her last hope. He’d said he’d return with dresses and flowers for his daughters, but nearly twenty years had passed with no word. Still, Elouise could not bring herself to give up on him.

Tears continued to fall.

And yet, what hurt most—more than the gossip, more than the uncertainty—was knowing that once she returned to Maine, she would never see Marcus Hanger again.

That single fact was what made it all unbearable.

A man she had known for less than two months. A frivolous man, too easily kind. A man who had dragged her into despair. The thought that she would never see him again crushed her.

Elouise hated Marcus Hanger.

“Please… Just fall in love with the Duchess already. When can I finally leave this place?”

She spoke through falling tears, staring at him. His flickering green eyes struck her like a blade to the chest.

And at her words, Marcus paled with sudden dread.

Elouise Starwood was leaving.

He’d never really considered it.

He’d known, vaguely, that she was to return to Maine after 120 days. But knowing and realizing are two different things. The moment she said “When can I leave?”, it felt as if his heart dropped into a black abyss.

Without thinking, he rushed to her, knelt, and took her hand, looking up at her. Her tear-streaked cheeks hurt more than he could bear.

“What are you saying, El? If you leave, I won’t be able to live.”

It was the truth. He held her hand to his cheek.

But Elouise began to cry even harder.

Marcus had never in his life witnessed a lady cry like that. The women he knew shed delicate tears, or looked at him with glistening eyes. But Elouise was different. She sobbed loudly, her face crumpled like a child’s.

“Don’t lie to me!”

She practically wailed.

Tears poured down her twisted face. Marcus panicked, utterly lost. One of her tears fell onto his cheek as he looked up at her.

“I’m already suffering so much because of you—and you say something like that? How can you be so cruel?”

“El, please… don’t cry. When you cry—”

“Don’t call me that! Every time you say it, it hurts so much!”

She even hated the nickname?

Marcus felt a twinge of resentment.

He thought he understood what she meant. If not for him, she wouldn’t have stayed in Cliff. She’d remained only because of the diamond he offered and suffered because of it.

Marcus hated himself for being the one who made her cry. But also—

Oh, thank God.

He felt a strange kind of gratitude toward his past self. If he hadn’t stopped her that day at the train station—if he hadn’t offered his senseless kindness and proposed a contract marriage—he’d be chasing after yet another meaningless fling right now.

Even as he thought this, Elouise sobbed harder.

“I’m suffering because of you. My heart aches… I shouldn’t have come to Cliff.”

Hearing her blame herself pained him even more. She shouldn’t be crying. Her life deserved more than this. She deserved to smile.

Instead of slapping his own cheek, Marcus rubbed it against the back of her hand and pleaded.

“Elouise, please tell me—who hurt you?”

"…"

“Yes, it’s my fault you’re in Cliff. But listen—you are the rarest, most precious woman in this world. Someone must have said something cruel to you. Tell me. Did someone mock you for marrying a lowly, common man like me? Or take advantage of your kindness?”

Elouise shook her head. She felt like she was losing her mind.

Even now—he was still kind.

Even when she begged him not to call her El, he now said Elouise every time. And now he said he couldn’t live without her—surely just another one of his smooth lines—but it was so sweet, she couldn’t stop crying.

“Everything you say is wrong!”

Marcus begged again.

“Elouise. I’m always wrong before you. Even now, I made you cry without understanding your heart. I’m sorry. Please stop crying. Seeing your cheeks soaked like this—I’d rather slap my own.”

Seeing this handsome man kneeling before her in such distress was driving her mad.

“I’ll do anything you ask. Just please stop crying. Elouise…”

“Will you really do anything I say?”

She sniffled. She hoped her voice wouldn’t tremble, but it was useless.

She couldn’t even look at him properly, her lips trembling like a child’s. But Marcus, still gazing up at her, paid that no mind. He spoke, earnest and desperate.

“Anything you ask. No matter how impossible. I’m ready. Just don’t cry. Don’t say you’ll leave. Elouise. I…”

“You, please… stop being so kind to me…”

She couldn’t bear it. She cut him off. Marcus blinked, startled. His disheveled hair revealed his high forehead, sharp nose, and those warm green eyes.

Elouise sniffled, barely able to meet his gaze.

“The person who’s hurting me the most… is you.”

Marcus’s brows furrowed in sorrow. He lowered his head like a scolded child. The ever-cheerful Marcus Hanger, now dejected and small—it unsettled her.

“…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I shouldn’t have—”

“That’s not it…”

Elouise cut him off hastily.

“Please, just win over the Duchess’s heart. I’m begging you.”

“That’s impossible.”

To her surprise, Marcus suddenly raised his head and replied firmly.

His tone caught her off guard. She tried to pull her hand away, but he held on tighter.

“Let go of me.”

“I can’t. Elouise, listen to me—”

“You’re not the one hurting me. Well, maybe you are. But it’s not your fault—it’s mine.”

Elouise took a breath and rushed through her words. Marcus looked at her, stunned. She blinked rapidly, fighting tears.

“You said you’d do anything I asked. Then go—win the Duchess’s heart. She should’ve been enough. Why are you doing this to me?”

“Elouise, what are you—”

“Go and make the Duchess—that awful woman—yours! The way you made me yours!”

At last, Elouise spilled her heart. It was impulsive, but she couldn’t stop herself.

Marcus’s eyes, which seemed already wide, grew even larger. He looked like he was trying to grasp what she meant—but Elouise didn’t give him time.

“I hate you. Why do you act so kind when you have no intention of giving me your heart? You act like you love me—just like I act like I love you. Yes, I know! That’s what our contract says, right? That damned diamond made us pretend!”

"…"

“But I can’t do it anymore. I’m just some country girl from Maine—I’m not some actress from the Grand Capital Theatre. And you’ve made someone like me… like this…”

She broke down again.

She expected him to gently wipe her cheek like before—but he didn’t touch her. Not for a while. Elouise blinked away her tears and looked at him.

Marcus was gasping, face filled with wonder and awe.

He was certain now.

Elouise had to be divine. Or, at the very least, she was sent by heaven. No one else could make him feel the depths of both heaven and hell in such a short span.

When she wept, it was as if he had fallen into an abyss. But now? It felt like he sat on the ninety-ninth step to heaven, listening to the chorus of angels.

Her words had been that sweet—and that shocking.

“Say it again. Please, Elouise—say it again.”

“…What are you—”

“What you just said. Please, tell me what it meant.”

Elouise was speechless. Even now, he was unsure.

Was he trying to confirm the terms of their contract? “Never fall in love with each other.” Perhaps he needed verbal confirmation to protect himself.

At least there was no penalty clause in that contract. If there had been, she’d already be planning to sell the Starwood estate.

Because she could no longer hold it in.

“I—”

“Yes. Elouise. You—?”

“I said I love you…”

She covered her face, mortified. Never in her thirty-two years had she imagined she’d confess her love first. But now, she understood why some women did.

Love wasn’t a feeling—it was a monster. One that grew and pressed down until a woman could no longer breathe. Until all she could do was collapse in front of the man she loved and say the words aloud.

What happens now?

Unfortunately, the man she loved was someone who fled at declarations of love. She braced herself. He’d probably despise her now.

Forget the contract marriage—he might throw her away entirely. If he asked for the diamond back, she’d have no choice but to return it. Even now, thinking about money, she hated herself—but she allowed herself that self-pity.

She wasn’t Lady Hanger. She was just the woman accused of being vain for clinging to the Starwood estate. Was it really so bad to cry over money, too?

Of course, Marcus Hanger wasn’t about to let her wallow in sorrow over money.

“Elouise. Oh, Elouise…”

He breathed her name like a prayer. Elouise, mortified, lifted her tear-streaked face. If he was going to end things, she wanted to hold her chin up with dignity. But when she looked—

The man kneeling before her wore an expression of sheer joy.

“Good heavens, Elouise. Is this what it feels like to soar into the sky?”

“…What?”

“Elouise. You may not believe me. But I have to say it.”

“…?”

“I love you, too.”

Marcus’s voice was burning. The moment she said I love you, he nearly asked her again, just to be sure.

But she had been crying, and he hadn’t wanted to pressure her. He tried, truly, to be careful—but he couldn’t help it.

He had never felt anything like this in his life. Women had cried and confessed to him before. Dozens of them.

But none had made him feel like this.

As if he were swimming through cream—sweet, thick emotion that enveloped him completely.

He wanted to throw his head back and shout his joy. He wanted to take her into his arms, right now.

Marcus fought for control.

But Elouise’s eyes were cold, skeptical—she didn’t believe him.

Of course not!

All the warnings he’d ignored flashed through his mind. The ones that said if you lived that way, love would run from you. The curses of the women he hurt. His aunt clicking her tongue. His father’s words:

“Trust is the greatest treasure. It’s not like money. Once lost, you can never get it back. So act with care.”

Oh, Father.

At this moment, Marcus Hanger understood a kind of regret most people taste at least once—especially the unruly ones.

I should have listened to my parents.

He blinked, shook his head.

He had to pull himself together.

Elouise Starwood had every reason not to trust him. From now on, he’d do whatever it took to prove his love. Holding her hand, he declared:

“You may not believe me, Elouise.”

“…”

“But I love you, too. Deeply. Fiercely. With all my heart.”

Tears welled in her eyes again. Marcus, forgetting his earlier calm, panicked.

“I don’t believe you… If this is some cruel joke, stop it.”

“It’s not, Elouise. I swear.”

He gripped her hands tightly. She looked at him, wary.

“What are you saying? Did I just happen to stir up your quick-burning affection? Did my words somehow spark something shallow in you? I don’t believe it. You just came back from a lovely walk with the Duchess, didn’t you?”

Ah, her damned constant mentioning of the Duchess. Marcus suddenly wanted to disappear.

He had noticed his waning interest in her. But he thought it was just boredom—after months in Cliff and a marriage done solely to seduce her, nothing had progressed. So he figured he was simply losing interest.

Yet he kept pursuing her.

But now he knew why.

It was Elouise Starwood. The woman who already owned his heart had urged him on: “Go to her!” And he couldn’t say no.

But how was he supposed to explain that?

Because you told me to? No woman wanted to hear that.

He hesitated. Elouise, restless, went on.

“I’m not a fool. I know what clothes look like after a fun romp in the woods. Look at your jacket—it’s filthy and wrinkled. Everyone knows you disappeared into the forest with the Duchess. I know. I saw how pristine your blue coat was this morning. And those white trousers!”

Only then did Marcus look down at himself—and groaned.

He looked exactly like a man who had enjoyed himself thoroughly in the woods.

At this rate, everyone in Cliff would call him nothing but a shameless rake. Marcus clung to her in desperation.

“No, Elouise. That’s not it. Let me explain. Please, just give me time.”

“…Then explain.”

His merciful goddess granted him time. Marcus pressed his forehead to the back of her hand in gratitude, then looked up. Her stormy eyes bore into him.

“First, Elouise—I swear on your beautiful eyes, I will not lie.”

“Spare me the sweet talk.”

“I must say it, or I might lose my nerve and hide behind sweet words to distract you from my pathetic heart.”

Not knowing she thought What a silver-tongued scoundrel, Marcus continued.

“You’re right. I spent time with the Duchess in the forest. She even said she was interested in me. She… she pulled me close.”

“…”

“But when she fell against my chest… I’m sorry, Elouise.”

At those words, Elouise inhaled sharply, and Marcus quickly added:

“She fell. But nothing happened. I swear.”

“…Then say it.”

Gracious Elouise waited. Marcus let out a relieved breath and continued.

“Our plan worked. The Duchess said she was finally interested in me. But, Elouise…”

“…”

“The moment she said that, I realized—too late—that I was no longer interested in her. There was no place left in my heart for the Duchess. I returned to base camp wondering why, and the moment I saw you, I understood. My happiness lies with you.”

Marcus looked up at her and smiled. He didn’t have to try—just seeing her face brought a smile to his lips.

Come to think of it, it had always been that way. Consideration toward women, always keeping a smile in their presence—that was Marcus Hanger’s first rule. Yet in front of her, he didn’t need to remind himself of such things. He smiled effortlessly.

With her, everything felt easy. He didn’t need to chase after love or try hard to be considerate. He simply wanted to give her everything.

Marcus was now certain that what he felt was unlike anything before. There was no room for doubt. Because he loved everything about Elouise.

He had liked the Duchess of Bellona for her lovely face, Heather for the way dimples formed when she laughed, Rebecca Morgan for her earnest nature, and Emily Lewis for her pale, beautiful fingers. His past affections had always been explainable.

But now, Marcus found he couldn’t explain this love.

He liked her shadowed expression, her slender neck, the way her blue eyes narrowed slightly whenever they met his. He loved how her hair glinted purple under the sun. He loved the way she gritted her teeth when lifting Juliet—straining with effort, yet never once looking cold when her eyes settled on the girl.

He wanted to kiss her whenever she frowned at his nonsense but ended up smiling anyway. When his conservative aunt scolded her over dinner, the way her eyes darted nervously was endearing. He adored how she tried to hide her joy whenever he brought her silly, meaningless gifts.

All of it—the thousands of little things—Marcus loved them all. The sides of her she had shown him, and the ones he hadn’t yet seen.

With a heart fit to burst, Marcus continued.

“I’ve never felt this way in my life.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“It’s the truth, Elouise.”

Her tone had softened a little from earlier.

Her tears had dried. Marcus gathered his courage and reached out. She didn’t pull away when his hand touched her cheek.

“It would’ve been nice if I’d realized my feelings right after meeting you. But I don’t regret not knowing then. If I had, I wouldn’t have been able to ask you to marry me.”

“…”

“Elouise. Do you know what made me happiest when I realized I loved you? It was knowing that the woman who’d come into my pitiful life was already my wife.”

At those words, Elouise’s lips trembled faintly. Marcus smiled.

“I love you with all my heart. Truly. You may not believe me, but—”

“…No. I believe you.”

“You do?!”

Marcus asked, nearly leaping to his feet. Elouise, pale-faced, hesitated before replying.

“…Because I know how quickly you fall in love. I suppose I’m just next in line after the Duchess.”

“Ah, Elouise! How many times must I tell you that’s not true before you’ll believe me?!”

Marcus dramatically buried his face in her lap, as if in despair. He could feel her laughing faintly. He looked up at her with theatrical seriousness.

“Well, fine. I understand if you can’t trust me because of my past. But then let me prove it to you. I’ll whisper ‘I love you’ in your ear every day. After two months, a year, ten years—if I keep saying it every day, then you’ll believe my feelings, won’t you, Elouise?”

He poured out his love with fervent intensity. The answer she gave was unexpected.

“…Would you love me no matter what kind of person I am?”

At her question, Marcus tilted his head slightly, then grinned.

“I love you no matter what.”

“…I’m older than you, and I’m poor. I even have a child. And, also…”

Marcus clutched his chest. None of that mattered. Even if she were older, even if she had no money—even if she had a hundred children—he would still love her.

So he didn’t let her go on disparaging herself. As she tried to continue, Marcus cut her off, speaking solemnly.

“I love you, Elouise.”

“…”

“No matter who you are—I love you.”

She bit her lip, and before she could start crying again, Marcus gently reached out his arms. The moment Elouise leaned into him, Marcus felt a thrill unlike any he’d ever known.

His heart pounded like a war drum. Holding her in his arms, Marcus Hanger swore he would never let her go.

Of course, promises like that—whether made willingly or not—are the kind that life rarely allows one to keep.

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