Chapter 34
The Gentle Playboy
When had she fallen asleep?
The next morning, Lily opened her eyes alone in the bed. The inside of the blankets was still warm, but there was no trace of the man left in the room.
She hurried to the window. The car was still parked in front of the inn.
The man was leaning against it, smoking a cigar. His deep gray eyes, impossible to read, were fixed on something far away. As he lifted his head slightly to exhale smoke, his gaze met Lily’s.
‘Come down.’
He mouthed the words.
Stepping away from the window, Lily noticed that the attached bathroom was filled with hot water. She returned to the window and pushed open the shutters again.
“Is it all right if I wash before coming down?”
When she called out a little louder, he gave a small laugh.
“Take your time.”
She shivered slightly. Last night, she had broken into a sweat even without a shawl around her shoulders.
Lily quickly undressed and slipped into the narrow bathtub. Water overflowed, darkening the color of the wooden floor.
‘So sleep peacefully now, Sister.’
Why had she done that? Why had she insisted on stopping him when he tried to leave?
She worried secretly that he might have noticed her disappointment. For the first time in her life, Lily found herself struggling within an uncontrollable whirlpool of strange emotions.
‘You said you could stay here.’
She remembered how he had stopped walking, turned around, and smiled.
He must have spent the entire night awake, pulling up a chair while she slept.
The scent of cologne that always clung to his neatly hung linen shirt and heavy coat had drifted softly through the room all night. That made Lily happy—the fact that he had turned back because of her words.
When she went downstairs, the innkeeper and a young boy were talking to him. His once-immaculate shirt was now slightly wrinkled.
“Get in.”
The inside of the car was cold enough for her breath to fog. Sitting down, Lily shivered for a moment. After extinguishing his cigar, he tilted his head and blew the last bit of smoke out the window.
“You slept so soundly someone could have carried you off.”
“No one carried me off.”
When Lily stubbornly replied, he laughed while keeping his eyes forward.
As she looked at the thick veins on his forearms, visible beneath his rolled-up sleeves as he gripped the steering wheel, Lily remembered the firm touch of those hands around her shoulders and shook her head.
Perhaps thinking she was cold, he handed his coat to her.
Instead of putting it on, Lily folded it carefully to avoid wrinkles and placed it on her lap.
He didn’t say a word the entire ride back.
Lily nodded occasionally, pretending to look out the window. Neither the dull suburban scenery nor the bustling streets of Londinium caught her attention.
Her mind was busy replaying the previous night with him over and over.
“We’re here.”
Before she knew it, the car had stopped in front of the hotel.
“Thank you.”
Their eyes met in the narrow space. She could have simply opened the door and left—but she hesitated.
After seeing the grand, magnificent building standing alone in the wilderness of Everley, the hotel somehow looked smaller than before.
Christopher shifted the gear with his gloved hand. Someone came running out from the hotel entrance, but the two of them continued to sit there, staring at each other.
He spoke first.
“Goodbye.”
At his calm words, she couldn’t bring herself to say, “You too.” That felt too small to define what had happened the night before.
Was this really the end?
If someone hadn’t knocked on the passenger window at that moment, Lily might have stayed sitting there for a long time.
“Lily! Lily!”
“Timothy? Oh my—why are you here?”
At Lily’s words, Christopher’s eyes locked onto the man outside the window.
“Timothy is my friend.”
She didn’t even know why such an excuse slipped out. He gave no response. Blushing, Lily hurriedly climbed out of the car.
Watching her, Christopher pulled off his leather gloves and tossed them carelessly onto the seat where her warmth still lingered.
He observed as Timothy immediately pulled Lily into a tight embrace. Timothy fussed over her, pushing her hair back, examining her anxiously—clearly having worried a great deal.
Christopher’s lips twisted. He had no intention of remaining in the car to witness their tearful reunion.
“Where were you?”
“In Everley…”
Timothy spoke, trying to hold back his emotions.
“I’m sorry, Timothy. You must have been worried.”
“The police searched everywhere—how did they not find you?”
Timothy ruffled his hair in frustration. Lily swallowed nervously and took a deep breath.
It wasn’t that she had meant to hide anything from the beginning. But instinctively, she felt she wouldn’t be able to handle the consequences of telling him who she had been with. Without realizing it, Lily rubbed her forehead.
“The police did their job. They even came to our room, didn’t they, Miss Elizabeth?”
Bang—
Christopher stepped out of the car, deliberately slamming the door shut. Both Lily and Timothy turned toward him at once.
Timothy looked at Christopher with wary eyes.
“Lily, who is he?”
Rather than interrupting, Christopher waited to hear what answer would come from her lips.
“This gentleman is a guest at the hotel…”
“Were you with him all night?”
“N-no.”
Christopher let out a short laugh. There was no species more doomed than a woman with no talent for lying.
He could almost hear the sound of her nervous swallow from where he stood.
And Timothy Rutland seemed to understand perfectly well what her delayed reaction meant.
Christopher watched Lily without turning his gaze away, while Timothy studied him in return.
To Timothy, the man who had brought Lily back was clearly no ordinary person.
His clothes, his manner of speaking, his attitude—everything about him suggested high status.
‘A nobleman bringing back a woman of low birth?’
There was only one reason a man like that would show such kindness.
“Thank you for helping Lily. I’ll take care of things from here. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t involve yourself any further.”
“Not at all.”
Christopher replied briefly, as if to say unnecessary formalities weren’t needed. Timothy, undeterred, remained polite.
“My name is Timothy Rutland. I’d like to offer some token of gratitude, within reasonable bounds.”
It wasn’t sincere. It was simply a roundabout way of telling him to step aside.
Christopher leaned casually against the car and looked him over. Timothy lifted his chin stiffly, determined not to lose momentum.
“Ah, Timothy Rutland. ‘Just’ a friend.”
Christopher offered his hand. Seeing this, Lily tugged timidly at Timothy’s arm.
Christopher’s gaze flicked down to her restless fingers before returning.
“When someone gives their name, shouldn’t you do the same? At the very least, I’d like to know whether the man who brought Lily home is trustworthy.”
“If you’re curious who I am, why not ask the young lady?”
Seeing Lily clutching nervously at Timothy’s sleeve, Christopher measured the relationship between them.
Timothy Rutland was a man anxiously displaying his treasure to the world—yet sadly lacking both the power and the means to protect it.
Christopher narrowed his eyes as he assessed him, and Timothy trembled beneath that contemptuous gaze.
“Who do you think you are, being so rude?”
Timothy grabbed Christopher roughly by the collar, his hand shaking. In that moment, it wouldn’t have mattered to him even if the man were a king.
“Let go.”
Christopher remained calm. Timothy’s heated outburst amused him. He despised people who were ruled by their emotions.
“Both of you stop! Timothy, stop it! What are you doing? I’ll apologize instead—please, don’t do this!”
But Lily’s words only inflamed Timothy further. His fist cut through the air—but Christopher dodged effortlessly.
From the start, such an attack posed no threat to him. He didn’t even bother to strike back.
“If you’re that worried, ask her yourself. Though I can guess why you don’t want to.”
At that single sentence, the strength drained from Timothy’s clenched fist.
Timothy was now paying the price for daring to challenge Christopher Archibald Belmore.
‘Doubt the treasure you hold.’
That was the command Christopher silently issued to this insignificant man.
“What do you mean by that?”
Even Christopher himself didn’t know how to clearly define this emotion.
It was petty, childish revenge—something he normally would never have done. The bird that willingly flew into his arms was his, and the flower that bloomed in barren soil was also his.
Christopher tossed his cigar to the ground and slowly crushed it beneath his foot. Bitter smoke still rose faintly from the mangled remains.
“Exactly what I said.”
Leaving only those words behind, he turned and strode up the marble steps of the hotel. Lily stared after him blankly.
A heavy silence settled between Timothy and Lily.
The suspicion Christopher had planted between them was like a golden apple of discord.
“Why did you lie?”
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
Lily lowered her head, staring at her feet. Timothy softened his tone as if trying to comfort her.
“Lily, that man could have come back even without you.”
“Timothy… he was just being kind.”
Lily clutched the hem of her dress tightly. That’s all it was, Lily—just kindness. She repeated the words to herself.
“That man is from a different world than you. Look at the way he acted. I don’t like seeing you treated that way.”
“How did he treat me?”
Lily blinked her large eyes slowly.
“Timothy… you’re different from me too.”
Timothy didn’t know what to say. Even in that moment, her tightly pressed lips and slightly puffed cheeks were unbearably endearing.
“That man is after you.”
“After what of mine?”
“That’s…”
Timothy let out a shallow groan. Every word she spoke felt like punishment to him—as if carefully chosen to wound him.
“Different from you? Then how do you see me?”
