Chapter 32
Avery House
He looked over the car’s dashboard and let out a hollow laugh. Judging by the crease between his brows, he was clearly troubled
“We’ll have to get out.”
When Lily hesitated, he reached out his hand. She took it and stepped down from the car. A rush of cold air brushed against her.
“There should be quite a few places around here where we can stay for the night.”
“No. I have to get back today. I’ll walk if I have to.”
Lily shook her head stubbornly. She didn’t want to upset Cecil, and more than that, she couldn’t break the hotel’s rules like this.
“It’s already too late. Avery is an industrial district. The security is poor. Walking through here after dark is out of the question.”
Lily had heard the rumors while moving around Londinium—a mad murderer who targeted only women. All of them had been young, and every one of them brutally slashed to death.
“I’m fast at running. And if something happens, I’m good at escaping. I’m pretty strong too. I won’t be an easy target.”
He replied coldly.
“Killing someone doesn’t take strength. It takes the knife in their hand. And what makes them hold that knife is their mind. So it doesn’t matter how strong you are.”
“But…”
“Listen to me. Being fast doesn’t matter at all.”
At those words, Lily finally stepped closer to Christopher. It was her silent signal that she would follow him obediently. He let out a faint sigh, as if relieved.
Among the many inns scattered between the gray buildings, he managed to find the cleanest one without much trouble.
Because it was the exhibition season, the lodging fee was higher than usual, but they had no room to be picky. Christopher handed the innkeeper money wrapped in a handkerchief.
“Well…”
Not long after, he turned back to her with an uncharacteristically awkward expression.
“There’s only one room. And the owner seems to have mistaken us for a married couple.”
The stout landlady peeked out and looked between the two of them.
At the exhibition hall, nobles and commoners alike could mingle, drink tea, and look around together. But that place was an exception. Outside of it, society’s old, rigid customs still held firm.
“Madam, please come in. There happens to be just one of our best rooms available.”
Unused to such politeness, Lily nodded awkwardly.
“If there’s anywhere nearby that sells fuel, could you have the car filled up?”
“That won’t be until tomorrow morning. We sometimes get some from the factory, but everyone’s gone home for the day.”
The landlady handed Christopher a brass key.
“Rest well. If you need anything, just ring the bell.”
The two climbed the creaking stairs and entered the empty room. Despite being told to rest comfortably, the room was shabby. There was only a lone bed and a small table, and even the bathroom was cramped and poor.
Of course, Lily was used to this sort of environment—but for a man accustomed to luxury hotel rooms, it must have felt different.
Without thinking, Lily reached out her hands to take his coat and scarf. But he ignored her gesture and hung them up himself.
“I’m not a hotel guest right now, and you’re not a maid. There’s no need for that.”
At that moment, a clattering sound came from outside. The person knocking on the door was a maid from the inn.
“Sir, I’ve brought bathwater.”
“Bathwater? Did you ask for bathwater? Right now?”
As Lily’s voice grew louder, his brows furrowed slightly. Aware that someone outside might hear them arguing, he called out:
“Come in.”
No sooner had he spoken than a large cart appeared, carrying a tub filled with steaming hot water. Lily had to keep her mouth shut in front of the maid. She had briefly forgotten in her confusion—but it was obvious the inn staff believed she and this man were husband and wife. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have given them a single room and brought bathwater without hesitation.
Lily’s sharp gaze flicked back and forth between the tub and the man.
“Wife?”
She muttered under her breath, barely moving her lips.
“Thank you. We won’t need anything else until morning, so you may leave.”
As if trying to drown out Lily’s words, he spoke loudly to the maid. She poured the water into the tub and left.
Once the sound of footsteps going down the stairs faded, Lily turned to him in earnest.
“Wife? And why did you order bathwater on your own?”
“My name is Christopher. Not ‘hey you,’ or ‘sir,’ or ‘that man’—Christopher.”
If you were going to be this embarrassed, you shouldn’t have jumped into a pond in your underwear, he thought—but swallowed the words and removed his silk vest.
“I didn’t say we had to bathe together. There’s no need to be so flustered.”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
With practiced ease, he undid his buttons one-handed and loosened his bowtie.
In his starched white shirt, the man looked large but agile. Lily turned her head away without realizing it.
Sometimes she acted shamelessly as if she knew nothing at all—then suddenly became timid like a cat pretending to be meek.
“Are you really not going to wash? If not, I’ll give you the bed.”
At the mention of giving up the bed, her face flushed red. The two stood awkwardly facing each other in silence.
Looking at his neatly shaped lips made her forehead feel as though it were burning again.
She felt like she had to say something to wipe away the tension, but when she opened her mouth, no words came out.
It seemed to be the same for him. A heavy, leaden silence settled between them, crushing their feigned calm.
It was as if some mischievous god of fate had shoved them into the same room just to watch what would happen.
Lily finally broke the awkward silence. She tried hard to act as though their earlier kiss had never happened.
“Do you think we can leave before sunrise? If I get thrown out this time, I truly have nowhere to go. I have to be back in the room attached to the penthouse tomorrow morning.”
“You won’t be fired. You weren’t fired even after serving the wrong food.”
“That was just luck. Lord Belmore dismissed Mr. Budano. It could have been me instead.”
“I thought you’d be relieved it wasn’t you.”
“…Honestly, I almost wish it had been.”
“Really?”
He tilted his head, intrigued. To Lily, it was obvious that the gentleman before her had never once worried about losing a job.
“Mr. Budano liked Lord Belmore. Sending him away like that was cruel. I heard he’d known him since childhood. It wasn’t even his fault… using someone like that as an example—how could anyone feel good about it?”
“If you hate ‘Lord Belmore’ so much, why work at the hotel at all? Planning to get revenge if you meet him?”
The lamplight cast shadows across his face. He seemed genuinely interested in the conversation.
“My parents left me a letter.”
Kind, gentle, small things don’t know how to protect themselves. She didn’t even realize her parents had abandoned her at a convent.
“Where did you get the surname Gardner?”
Usually, people who left children at convents were those afraid of their identities being exposed.
Babies born from affairs, or to unmarried women. They were never coming back for the child.
To pin hope on a single letter and believe they would one day return—it was no different from living in a dream.
“I don’t know my real surname. Mr. Gardner found me and gave me that name temporarily.”
At Lily’s words, he let out a short exclamation.
“So you endure ‘Lord Belmore’ based on such a tiny clue…?”
“Without something like that, how could I live? Everyone hopes tomorrow will be better.”
“I don’t hope. Only people who don’t understand probability hope without reason.”
“Then what do people who know probability do?”
“They prepare, instead of hoping.”
Christopher didn’t want to talk much. Listening to her was far more interesting. She was desperately trying to keep the conversation going to hide her discomfort, and that pleased him.
“How can you have nothing to look forward to? Weren’t you excited the day before going to the exhibition?”
At her question, he laughed softly.
“Are you a child? I wasn’t excited at all.”
“Well then, I suppose there’s nothing more to say.”
Lily muttered in disappointment. Seeing him smile, she relaxed a little.
For a moment, it felt like they had returned to the time before the kiss—when they had practiced lines for a play together.
Lily felt relieved. Deep down, the thought of what might happen while staying alone in a room with this man had overwhelmed her.
“Just waiting around is like hoping ripe fruit will fall into your mouth. If you want something, you need to be more proactive.”
With that, their conversation came to an end. After all, the one who couldn’t bear silence was always the weaker one.
His Adam’s apple moved noticeably.
“Get some sleep. I’ll give you the bed.”
“Then where will you sleep, Mr—Christopher?”
She hadn’t expected him to mean it seriously. He was clearly a nobleman, after all. But the words that followed forced her to accept just how firm his resolve was.
“In the car.”
But it was still far too cold. Spending the night in the car was practically the same as sleeping outside.
“You don’t have to do that because of me. Really, it’s fine. I know you’re not a strange person, so please stay here.”
“If I truly didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t have let you into the car in the first place. Don’t worry—I won’t disappoint you like that.”
For some reason, those words stirred Lily’s heart. Could a man who wished to be good truly be bad?
Or was he saying he wanted to be that kind of person for her?
“Then that… had no meaning at all?”
“That? Ah.”
She was talking about the kiss on her forehead.
Seeing her reddened face and stiff, cold hands, he realized just how embarrassed she was.
“It was… a mistake, wasn’t it?”
A mistake.
Christopher Archibald Belmore had never made a mistake in his life. She still didn’t know much about him.
Ever since kissing her forehead, Christopher had been plagued by unfamiliar desire.
After recalling the shape of her chest and thighs revealed when she had stepped dripping from the fountain, even the blood in his veins had felt hot.
Which was why the words he’d just spoken—telling her not to worry—were the biggest lie he had ever told her.
He had imagined, more than once, her wrapping her tongue around him, touching his body.
Even those thoughts alone were dizzying—but the real woman before him was far more beautiful and sensual than his imagination. No other woman had ever drawn him in like this.
Standing calmly in the dim light, she even seemed provocative.
After a brief hesitation, he placed a hand on her shoulder.
“C–Christopher?”
Her skin, from the curve of her shoulder down to her arm, was astonishingly soft and warm.
He tightened his grip slightly on her delicate arm. The pressed skin reddened, then slowly returned to its original color.
