Chapter 223
Cecilia could be excused for her actions, but Nigelâs behavior remained inexplicable.
Did he really fail to recognize her? No, that was impossible. Hair that deep shade of crimson-tinted purple wasnât exactly commonâŚ
âDid he lose his senses after drinking?â
Perhaps some latent trait from his father had finally surfaced, proving that old habits truly die hard. Men in that family often had a particular tasteâwomen who were blunt and prickly, indifferent or disdainful toward them.
Marquis Rosencrantz had only become interested in Guinevere after sheâd been forced to swallow her pride and remain silent. Ulysses, too, had inherited his fatherâs eyes and set his heart on a woman heâd never have.
âBut both sons falling for the same womanâŚâ
Guinevere let out a hollow laugh.
âDoes she have some kind of exceptional charm? Iâd love to know what it is, truly.â
She idly directed her question at her son, who sat quietly, hands clasped in front of him, staring down. When he didnât answer, she gazed indifferently toward the door.
Footsteps, brisk and unhesitating, echoed before the door swung open. It was Nigel.
âOh my, Nigel! Are you all right?â
âKeep your hands off me, before I break them.â
As Guinevere approached him with feigned warmth, Nigelâs gaze turned icy, making her draw back, fingers tapping the air as if playing a silent piano.
âStill as sharp as ever, I see.â
Guinevere, unlike other mothers, neither scolded nor sought to discipline Nigel for his antics. She had no reason to. This incident would infuriate Marquis Rosencrantz and only further estrange him from Nigel.
Guinevere had nothing to lose from this. In fact, it might benefit her stoic son as well.
Still, she had a question. Watching Nigel keenly, she asked,
âSo, why her? And in a place like this?â
Nigelâs sharp eyes fixed on her, and for a moment, Guinevere felt herself shrink, though she didnât reveal it. She just curled her lips.
âThere are plenty of women in the capital. If you were in need of âexperienceâ, you could have come to me for a better match!â
âComing to you? I might as well prepare to get stabbed.â
Brushing past her with a dismissive wave, Nigel walked straight to where Ulysses sat and taunted him,
âWhy are you still here? It would make sense for her to stay, but you have no reason to remain.â
ââŚâŚâ
Ulysses stayed silent. Nigel scoffed.
âAh, are you here as that half-breedâs protector? For a second, I thought this family suddenly developed a collective sense of affection.â
At last, Ulysses looked up.
âHalf-breedâŚ?â
âPathetic for you, isnât it? No matter how many times you shield her from the shadows, sheâll never know.â
âEnough, Nigel.â
Guinevere stepped in to mediate, though not with any real intention. She finally understood what was going on.
Nigel had sensed Ulyssesâ feelings for Cecilia and used her to both break off his engagement and mock his brother.
Their animosity had been building for some time. Nigel had always been unusually callous toward Ulysses, and Ulysses, in turn, had grown used to Nigelâs cutting remarks.
If Nigelâs primary goal was to annul his engagement and he had also sought to mock his brother, his plan had half-succeeded, half-failed.
Ulysses sat quietly, unfazed.
Of course. He was calm and rational to an almost daunting degree and had long grown indifferent to Nigelâs outbursts. Ulysses would suffer no loss from this situation; only Nigel would face trouble ahead.
âI always knew your temper would come back to bite you one day, Nigel Rosencrantz.â
Guinevere stifled a smirk, thinking,
âAt least now youâre digging your own grave.â
She even felt a pang of gratitude for bringing that girl, Cecilia, into their lives.
The thought had barely crossed her mind when Nigel sneered,
âFine, keep on living your bland life. Iâll enjoy myself enough for the both of us.â
The instant he made that remark, likely with Cecilia in mind, Ulysses, who had been sitting still as a statue, rose abruptly.
He lunged at Nigel, and in the blink of an eye, they had each other by the collar, fists flying.
