Episode 36

#8. The Season of Happiness

On the way back to the manor, Marcus went on and on about all the signs that had apparently proven he’d been in love with her all along.

“It was truly strange. I knew full well I was only pretending to love you, but for some reason, I just couldn’t get the words out.”

“Is that so…”

“Whenever I'm with you, I can't stop smiling. Even though I was in the same boat as the Duchess, I couldn’t stop thinking about your boat. And when he picked you up right in front of me—honestly! I never imagined I’d live to feel jealous of Logan!”

At that, Elouise glanced nervously at Logan.

Seated next to Marcus, wearing his usual blank expression, Logan flicked his eyes toward his young master, then turned away as if he had seen something truly ridiculous. Marcus let out a frustrated huff.

“Let’s be honest here. How could you just lay hands on another man’s wife like that?”

“What was I supposed to do, sir? Let the lady climb aboard in the arms of some stranger? And besides, she’s not even your real wife.”

Logan’s indifferent tone made Elouise suddenly uneasy.

She worried he might mention what he’d seen—what he knew—to Marcus at any moment.

But Logan didn’t look at her once.

Ironically, his disinterested demeanor somehow reassured her. It felt like he considered her affair too trivial to even bring up. Unaware of her thoughts, Marcus mumbled sulkily:

“Well, whatever. I’m just saying.”

“So, was I right or wrong?”

“You were right…”

“Then raise my wages.”

Marcus widened his eyes at that. Logan tilted his head slightly and added shamelessly:

“Might as well row while the tide’s high, sir. The lady can vouch for how dutifully I’ve served her.”

“If I don’t agree with you now, I’ll look like a heartless master, won’t I?”

Elouise replied with a faint laugh. Marcus’s face lit up at the sight.

“Fine, Logan. A ten percent raise it is.”

Ten percent! That was a generous increase. Elouise’s eyes widened, and Marcus added with exaggerated cheer:

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you smile today, after all.”

“Thank you. So my salary now depends on the lady’s mood. I’ll continue to serve her well.”

Logan added calmly. At last, Elouise let out a laugh, an audible, carefree one. Marcus beamed.

“Great! Make that fifteen percent!”

---

In truth, Elouise had been filled with regret ever since.

From the moment she’d told Marcus Hanger she loved him, she’d been plagued with endless remorse.

She had always thought of Marcus as a reckless, shallow man. But after confessing her feelings, she could only think herself several times more foolish than him.

What on earth possessed me to say something like that?

The first thing that came over her was shame.

She reflected on all the ways she’d been overwhelmed that day, but in the end, her only conclusion was that she’d acted recklessly.

The fact that she’d been thinking of the Starwood estate and of Maine just before made it worse. How could she have declared love while worrying about the future of her home? That she had uttered those words without a single thought to how it might break the contract—she didn’t even recognize herself.

Perhaps I’m more like Louise than I realized.

She thought of her sister Louise, who one day vanished with the man she loved, leaving young Elouise behind.

She would be lying if she said she’d never resented Louise, who used to fall asleep holding Elouise’s hand, whispering that Father would return soon, and they just had to hang on. But in the end, she left Elouise and the Starwood estate behind.

Elouise remembered fixing the rusted pump in the yard with her roughened hands, polishing old window frames, all while wondering about the love that had made her sister leave.

What kind of emotion could drive someone to abandon everything for it?

Now, Elouise thought she might finally understand.

It was an emotion too strong to suppress. One might regret the moment they confessed aloud, but they still couldn't hold back.

And in some small way, Elouise felt comforted.

If she was already this regretful over a brief confession, then surely Louise must have had her own moments of remorse—moments of guilt as she lay in the arms of the man she loved. Maybe she’d missed Elouise. Maybe she’d regretted leaving.

I’m sorry, Louise…

And Elouise now understood something else. Love was terrifying. Uncertain. It was giving your heart to someone you couldn’t fully trust.

It was no wonder. Marcus had responded to her confession with an impassioned declaration of his own, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe him.

When she said she didn’t trust him, he swore his love again. He pleaded, he insisted, he repeated his feelings with increasing desperation.

But still, Elouise couldn’t believe him.

She’d seen too much.

She’d heard Logan swear on his own salary that Marcus’s love never lasted more than two months. And everyone who knew Logan knew he would never joke about his pay. Elouise knew it too. Madam Noskina clicked her tongue every time she saw her.

In the end, when Elouise told Marcus “I believe you,” it wasn’t trust—it was surrender. If she hadn’t said it, he would have kept her standing in that forest until morning.

Besides, he had said himself: the moment the Duchess confessed her interest, he realized he loved Elouise. To her, that sounded like another form of farewell. A breakup in disguise.

It was encouraging that the insufferable Duchess had been rejected—but only that. Marcus had merely replaced one love with another. Welcoming such feelings would only make her look pathetic.

So Elouise began to calculate just how short a two-month love might become if things went poorly.

And she did it all with a smile.

---

Even after they returned to the Noskina estate, Marcus’s declarations of love continued.

Still in his dirt-covered clothes, he trailed after her like a lovesick puppy until she pushed him away.

“For heaven’s sake, you’re not ten years old! You’re filthy—go change already!”

“As you wish. Nothing would make me happier.”

Marcus replied cheerfully and quickly returned in a fresh outfit—just a shirt and trousers, thanks to the heat.

With lighter clothes, his well-toned figure was more visible. Elouise, caught off guard, glanced at his chest and immediately turned away, cheeks flushed.

But Marcus continued babbling, so much that Elouise had to beg him to tone it down in front of her aunt.

During dinner, Madam Noskina grumbled that she’d lost her appetite watching Marcus dote on his wife more than usual, and excused herself early. Elouise could only feel embarrassed.

After Juliet—freshly bathed—kissed them both on the cheeks and went to sleep, Marcus closed her door and turned to Elouise with unusual seriousness.

“I think I’m the luckiest man alive. I didn’t just get a wife—we have a beautiful daughter too.”

“…Your optimism is boundless, honestly…”

Elouise sighed, but Marcus laughed like a man genuinely overjoyed.

“They say a smile draws blessings, don’t they? I’ve been smiling all day. Just knowing you’re with me is overwhelming. If I keep smiling like this, maybe more blessings will come!”

“You’re impossible.”

Elouise pushed his shoulder and trotted to the bedroom. As always, the room was softly lit by candlelight, with a plate of fruit set on the table—evidence of diligent maids.

Marcus poured himself a glass of brandy, and Elouise, seated on the bed, beckoned him.

“Tell me more. And pour me a drink too.”

“Of course. No good day is complete without a drink. Would you like it with warm water?”

“No. Just like last time—plain water is fine.”

On the plate were ripe yellow gooseberries. Elouise bit into one and winced slightly—it was still tart. It needed a few more days to sweeten. Watching her, Marcus asked:

“Elouise. May I kiss your cheek?”

“…W-What…?”

“If you don’t want me to, that’s fine.”

Despite his words, his expression was filled with hope, like a dog waiting for a treat. Embarrassed, Elouise hesitated and then muttered.

“…If it’s just a quick one.”

Marcus eagerly kissed her cheek.

Elouise, her face red, glanced at him, then looked away. She could almost see a fluffy tail wagging wildly behind him.

Is he even human? Or is he just a dog?

She remembered thinking he looked like a puppy when they first met. A puppy who might, of course, turn into a mutt. But now, Marcus was no more than an excited dog who’d found his master. Elouise stifled her laughter.

Unaware of her thoughts, Marcus clutched his chest and spoke like a man on the verge of collapse.

“My heart’s racing. Honestly, it all started the first time you kissed me. Do you remember? I was so shocked.”

“…Me? When?”

“What?! You don’t remember?”

Offended, Marcus launched into a long retelling of the day she had kissed him and he’d brought two bottles of port wine—something Elouise had completely forgotten. It took her a while to escape his rambling. Truly, the man could talk.

“But why are you still standing there?”

Eventually, Elouise couldn’t take it anymore and asked. Marcus flinched—he had set down the brandy and fruit but was still standing awkwardly in front of the bed. Elouise smiled and patted the space beside her.

“Come sit and talk properly.”

And then, she saw something unbelievable.

Just moments ago, Marcus had been chatting away without a care. But now, his face turned bright red, like it had been dipped in ink. Even by candlelight, the flush was unmistakable. He hesitated, then set down his glass and rubbed his face with both hands.

“…Elouise. You really…”

He didn’t need to finish. She already knew what he was thinking, and her face turned red to match his.

“T-That’s not what I meant. I just thought your legs might get tired standing so long…”

“I know. I know.”

He waved his hands and rubbed his face again. Elouise hurried to explain.

“Come on. We’ve been sleeping in the same bed this whole time—what’s there to be embarrassed about?”

At that, Marcus froze and looked at her. With a face so red it looked painful, he exhaled like a man surrendering.

“…I didn’t want to say this, but—Elouise.”

“W-What is it?”

“…I’ve never once actually fallen asleep beside you.”

Her eyes widened. Marcus turned away, crossing his arms with a sulky expression.

“Damn it, I couldn’t sleep! Thinking back, it’s all because of you…”

“…”

“It was weird. No way I’d prefer the sofa over a soft bed, right? But the moment I lay down next to you, I was wide awake. Even when I moved to the couch, I kept tossing and turning. Then, when I saw you sleeping with your shoulders exposed, covering you up without touching you—it was torture…”

The more he spoke, the redder Elouise’s cheeks became. But his next words chilled her.

“Honestly—have you really been married before? You sleep like someone who’s completely defenseless. Sometimes I think you know nothing about men. I swear I never once thought of doing anything indecent, but still…”

Ah. Of course. Marcus still believed she was married.

Elouise had spent the entire day floating in the euphoria of his confessions. But his words brought back reality.

What would he say if he learned she was unmarried? Would he be shocked? Disappointed? Laugh it off?

"No matter who you are, I love you."

But those were Marcus’s own words. She believed his love wouldn’t change—even if he knew the truth.

Still…

“Elouise?”

His voice pulled her from her thoughts. He was staring at her curiously.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Ah—nothing.”

Grateful for the distraction, Elouise smiled and patted the spot beside her.

“I heard you loud and clear. Now come sit.”

“…Elouise. Did you even hear what I just said?”

“Of course. A virgin man full of dirty talk—that’s what I heard.”

Marcus let out a laugh. Elouise lifted her chin with mock arrogance.

“Unfortunately for you, the woman in front of you has seen it all—she’s even sent a husband to his grave. So don’t worry. Whatever you try, I won’t fall for it.”

“Damn it! Do you realize how seductive you sound right now?”

“Oh, I know.”

Elouise grinned. Marcus sighed and finally slumped down beside her.

He looked like a man who’d aged ten years in five minutes.

“My father was right. He said I’d meet my match someday and be utterly destroyed.”

“Oh? Sounds like your father enjoys cursing his own son.”

Marcus gave her a sly smile.

“I never imagined you would be the one.”

He kissed the back of her hand. Elouise replied dryly:

“Might not be, you know.”

“You’re cruel!”

That night, Marcus insisted he couldn’t even sleep on the sofa and demanded another room—only to get smacked on the back by Elouise. The woman who lovingly soothed his aching back was the one he adored most.

Marcus held her hand and poured out sweet nothings through the night. His declarations of love could have filled volumes of sonnets—pure and sincere.

But no matter how beautiful the words, sleep always wins in the end.

As Elouise dozed off, Marcus whispered softly beside her:

“Tomorrow I’ll write my father. I’ll tell him I’m married and that I’ve found true love.”

“He might think you got the order a bit backward…”

Her voice was thick with sleep. Marcus kissed her forehead and chuckled under his breath.

“He won’t mind.”

And so, the night deepened.

For the first time, Marcus slept soundly beside her—his hand wrapped gently around hers. 

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