Romantic Psycho - Chapter 5

This was his fourth marriage, and both of his daughters were older than Diane.

Even so, Lady Sheldon, who had belonged to high society all her life, truly seemed to believe that Louis Boten was not such a bad match. After all, noble marriages were a kind of contract between families.

Diane had thought so too, in the beginning.

She believed it was her duty to marry the man chosen by her family.

At least, until she ended up in a mental hospital, she had sincerely thought that way.

“Diane, I’ll be back soon.”

The news of her mother’s accident, after leaving the house as usual, was a shock.

“I’ll be right back, Diane. Just a night walk. Nothing will happen.”

Her father’s death, who said he needed air and went out late at night, felt like betrayal.

Walter and Maria, distant relatives, never felt like family. They were simply people trying to pay off growing debts with her value.

Afraid the arrangement would fall through, they slapped her when she asked for help and said she couldn’t return to Winderbury until she came to her senses, then committed her to a mental hospital.

A gray solitary cell without a single window.

The stench of strong chemicals and mold.

Limbs tied to a bed and a mind slipping into fog.

Even a sane person couldn’t stay sane there.

Diane realized the name Lockwood no longer protected her.

A father who followed after her mother, a greedy new earl and countess, Louis Boten who persistently pursued marriage talks—everything felt cursed and revolting.

So she let go of her duty.

Family honor and inheritance, she couldn’t care less. Diane wanted only one thing.

Rest.

So she put on an appropriate smile and lied.

“I think so too.”

And then she got to the point.

“So, Lady Sheldon. Would it be possible for me to stay with you during this social season?”

Lady Sheldon’s eyes widened at the unexpected request. “The social season? You mean…”

“If the engagement with Mr. Boten is finalized, I’ll be getting married soon. Before that, I thought I should build some connections with the upper class in Britt. But as you know, the new earl and countess are quite distant from society since they inherited the title so suddenly.”

“Right. They probably don’t know a single person in Britt.”

“It’s difficult to discuss this with them, and the social season is just around the corner, but they are currently traveling. In this situation, the only person who could help me is you, Lady Sheldon.”

Lady Sheldon lowered her gaze as if falling into thought.

It was unfortunate, but Diane seemed unable to rely on the earl and countess at all. Thinking back, the two really were severely lacking in refinement.

‘How lonely she must have been all this time.’

Lady Sheldon, feeling a strange guilt as Diane’s godmother, raised her eyes as if making a decision.

“I’ve never properly fulfilled my role as your godmother, but if I have a chance to make up for that, nothing would make me happier.”

She didn’t want to leave Diane neglected any longer. It was time to fulfill her duty as a godmother.

Diane’s eyes widened in mild surprise, then she slowly smiled. “Thank you very much, madam.”

Seeing Diane’s flawless grace, Lady Sheldon smiled with satisfaction.

At the same time, her mind was already busy listing social figures to whom she should send letters on Diane’s behalf.

Diane, admirably, seemed to have completely escaped the tragedy. People needed to know that.

And Ellie, who had been listening to the conversation, was now troubled.

What on earth was the young lady thinking?

She glanced nervously at Diane, who simply sipped her tea calmly and elegantly.

Ellie had a very bad feeling. One thing was certain—Diane’s runaway was going to last far longer than she had expected.

***

Another train arrived at the central station, letting out a muffled whistle and spewing black smoke.

As the doors opened, the passengers poured out as if they had been waiting. With the people who had come to greet them added to the crowd, the platform instantly grew chaotic.

Julian, with his hat pressed low, was swept along in the surging wave of people as he made his way out of the station. He passed the line of people waiting for carriages at the bottom of the steps and stopped at a corner.

Leaning against the wall as though waiting for someone, he watched people in light spring clothes walk past, coatless. Occasionally, armed police officers on patrol stopped them, suddenly demanding identification.

Though Britt still brimmed with vitality under the touch of spring, the atmosphere was clearly more tense than before, likely due to the serial murders.

“What a mess,” Julian muttered absently as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver cigarette case. He lowered his head, took out a cigarette, and just as he placed it in his mouth, he saw something fluttering down at the edge of his vision.

A white mansion, green lawn, cobalt-blue sea.

A postcard of Winderbury.

Come to think of it, he had bought one of those.

Maybe the reason the woman’s eyes had felt so strangely familiar was because of that. The thought came to him without meaning to.

And then, along with those bright blue eyes, a voice cold as ice replayed in his head.

“Madam, I am not this gentleman’s companion. Please, take him with you.”

It was more firm and solemn than any lady he had ever met.

“Do you know me?”

A face void of emotion, a voice laced with irritation and fatigue.

And eyes filled with terror.

By the time he realized something had gone wrong, it was already too late.

The sight of her leaving in a near panic had looked far too precarious.

Julian had tried to follow her immediately, but Lady Strosse had cluelessly taken his arm, and in that moment, he had lost her.

There was no news of a young woman being found collapsed.

Still, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Those eyes. It was probably those strangely blue eyes.

Julian clicked his lighter with a scowl.

With a few ticks, the flame rose, and the tip of his cigarette flared red for a moment before soft smoke began to drift into the air. He drew the smoke in so deeply that his cheeks hollowed, then exhaled it in a sigh. The faint smoke dispersed into Britt’s rarely clear blue sky.

Gazing up at the now hazy sky, Julian quietly furrowed his brow.

A sudden shift of mood overcame him. He picked up the postcard and shoved it back into his pocket.

Just then, a carriage without any markings came to a stop before him.

“Captain. Welcome home safely. Lady Clemence is expecting you.”

Julian Harbour was beginning his summer leave a little earlier than most.

It was at the summons of the Marchioness Clemence.

He wanted nothing more than to refuse her invitation even now, but Julian had no choice but to step into the carriage.

The woman who had suddenly come to mind was, just as suddenly, forgotten.

***

As befit one of the capital’s great nobles, the Clemence March estate was massive, even though it stood in the middle of the crowded city.

Once, this had been his home. Yet now, everything felt unfamiliar.

“This way, Captain.”

The butler guiding him had a strangely familiar face. He had likely been in service since ten years ago.

“Madam, this is Captain Julian Harbour.”

Amusingly, the marchioness’s drawing room felt like the most familiar space of all.

As always, the Marchioness sat like a portrait in the prime seat of the reception sofa.

A lady of unremarkable appearance, wearing a faint, unreadable smile like a mask. It was impossible to know what she was thinking.

But whenever she looked at Julian, her expression hardened with contempt.

Of course, there was no reason for her to be kind to her husband’s illegitimate child.