Chapter 327: No Harm Done

The wedding night festivities were in full swing, filling every corner of the estate with lively chatter and laughter. William, however, was anything but cheerful. He had wanted to slip away for some fresh air, but his father had given strict orders—as Oliver’s younger brother, he was required to stay and assist in entertaining the guests. His uncles and cousins had also dragged him into rounds of drinks, leaving him slightly intoxicated. Seizing an opportunity, he escaped to his room, only to be followed by Eleanor, who entered with a water tray in hand, accompanied by a young girl.

“Your Lordship, have some water,” the girl said softly.

Irritated, William waved her off. “Just set it down and leave.”

Eleanor’s expression darkened. She had never quite adjusted to his cold demeanor. Clenching her handkerchief, she forced a smile and said, “William, this is my cousin. She recently arrived in Argentum, so I thought I’d bring her to pay her respects.”

William finally looked up. His gaze landed on the girl, studying her for a moment before asking, “What’s your name?”

The girl curtsied gracefully and replied in a clear, pleasant voice, “Susan Hardin.”

Something about her tone was soothing, and William’s irritation eased slightly. “Mm. Stay in the estate for a while. Have Eleanor show you around tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Susan said with a bright smile. “You should drink some water. It’ll help with the headache.”

William didn’t want to get completely drunk tonight—there were too many people around, and if he lost control, he’d only make a fool of himself. He grabbed the cup and downed the water in large gulps.

Eleanor, watching closely, let out a subtle sigh of relief but quickly furrowed her brows again. She turned to Susan. “Stay here and keep William company. I’ll go change my clothes before taking you to greet Margaret.”

“Yes,” Susan answered obediently.

Once Eleanor left, William glanced at Susan and asked, “What kind of cousin are you to her?”

“Maternal.”

“Maternal?” William pondered for a moment. Eleanor had two aunts—one was Matilda of the Langley family, who had been imprisoned. The other… was once engaged to Geoffrey, but after he married Prunella instead, she had no choice but to wed another. So, this girl must be that lady’s daughter.

William’s eyes lingered on Susan as a wave of drunken heat surged through him. “You resemble someone. Do you know who?”

Susan’s lips curved into a playful smile, revealing a set of small, sharp canines. “Isolde?”

She knew. Of course, she knew. Many had told her the same thing.

A strange heat coursed through his veins, seeping into his very bones. His skin burned; his body felt stifling. He tugged at his collar, frustrated. His alcohol tolerance was worse than he thought.

“You stay here and wait for Eleanor. I need some air.” He stood abruptly. The room felt suffocating, his irritation mounting. But more than the heat, it was the realization that unsettled him—the way looking at Susan stirred something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Damn it. How could he, even for a second, feel drawn to someone with a face that reminded him of Isolde? He despised that woman. Shameless. She had been engaged to him, yet she married that bastard instead.

“William!” Susan called after him, hurrying forward. “It’s windy outside, and you’ve had a lot to drink. You shouldn’t—”

Before she could finish, a servant sprinted over, panting. “Lord William! Ashley fell into the garden lake! There are too many guests around, and I didn’t dare report it to Lord Pablo. Please, you must come quickly!”

William’s expression darkened. He didn’t care for Ashley, but she was now a consort. If something happened to her within the estate, it would be the Valen family’s responsibility.

“How did she fall in? The lake is frozen over—what was she even doing there?” he snapped as he strode out.

The lake was near his courtyard, so it made sense that the servants came to him first. As he approached, he saw a group gathered by the shore, pulling someone from the icy water. To his surprise, Ashley was not the one being rescued; she was standing on the bank, directing the servants. The moment she spotted him, she rushed over.

“William! Martha fell in! It’s freezing, and I need to borrow your courtyard.”

William’s eyes flickered in astonishment. Martha? His gaze settled on the drenched figure being lifted from the lake. Her complexion was ghostly pale, lips trembling uncontrollably. The wet strands of her hair clung to her forehead, with icy droplets forming at the tips. Her wide, frightened eyes met his for a fleeting second before she quickly turned away, her frailty making her all the more pitiful.

A strange pang hit his chest. He stepped forward. “Martha, come to my quarters. I’ll have fresh clothes brought for you.”

Martha kept her head down, shivering violently, but she neither answered nor moved. Ashley nudged her forward. “Go on! Change out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold!”

Martha hesitated, then whispered, “I… I’ll return home; I can change there.”

“Go home like this? You’re soaked through.” William’s irritation flared. His body still burned with leftover heat, and the cold night air only aggravated his temper. “Come with me,” he said sharply.

Martha flinched, her lashes quivering like a startled fawn’s. Then, without waiting for her consent, William grabbed her wrist and led her away.

Ashley watched the two retreating figures, a sly smile curling her lips. She turned to a maid. “Follow them.”

“Yes, my lady.” The maid bowed and hurried after them.

Ashley sat on a stone bench by the lake, the freezing surface biting into her skin, the harsh wind stinging her face. And yet, her smile deepened. She had expected this. Two days ago, Agnes had introduced a girl with a resemblance to Isolde into the estate. Ashley immediately understood her intentions. So, she deliberately befriended Susan and struck a deal with her—one that Susan eagerly accepted. After all, Susan was no cousin. She was a young lady of Vermelle Hall, proud and ambitious. If she could climb higher, why would she settle for being William’s concubine, forever beneath Eleanor?

Ashley chuckled softly. Agnes and Eleanor had put in all this effort, only to unknowingly prepare a grand gift for someone else.

Inside William’s room, the servants were dispatched to fetch clothes from Eleanor’s quarters. Martha remained still, trembling. William eyed her for a moment before saying, “Wait here. I’ll step outside.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, bowing slightly, her voice shaky.

William turned to leave, but just as he lifted the curtain, a sudden shriek sounded. He spun around. Martha, eyes wide with terror, lunged at him, clutching onto his robe. “There’s a centipede!” she cried.

Cold as ice, she pressed against him, yet her warm breath fanned against his cheek as she spoke. A rush of heat flared from his stomach, surging straight to his head. His mind went blank. Then, instinct took over. His arms tightened around her, and before he could stop himself, he kissed her.

Meanwhile, outside in the corridor, Susan spotted a maid carrying fresh clothes toward the room. She stepped forward with a bright smile. “Hand them to me. I’ll take them to Martha.”

The maid, assuming Susan was indeed Eleanor’s cousin, thought nothing of it. After all, the Blackwell and Langley families were related, and if Susan said Martha was her cousin, who would doubt her?