The Wicked Wife's Dark History Keeps Coming Back To Haunt Her - Chapter 222
When George dragged up an unpleasant part of the past to humiliate her, Sophia’s face flushed scarlet.
At that moment, Ash spoke with a cold, lowered gaze.
“So your name is George?”
“Y-Yes, Your Grace.”
“I think we’ve received enough greetings, so you should go tend to the other guests now. I have something to discuss with my wife. Alone.”
“Pardon? B-But—”
“We’re fine, and I think it would look better if you saw to the others.”
When Ash subtly dismissed them while looking down with an expressionless face, Sophia tugged at George’s arm.
“…Then please enjoy your time.”
Even so, George seemed unable to let go of his regret, and he kept glancing back over his shoulder.
Nina faintly knitted her brows.
George’s muddied blue eyes were directed straight at her.
Even though her own husband was standing right beside her, and even though his own fiancée was right there, the impure interest he showed her was unbearably offensive.
“Just as I suspected, that George fellow doesn’t seem sane right now.”
When Ash’s eyes twisted with distaste, Nina nodded.
She had felt it from only a short conversation.
Never mind that his gaze and complexion were off, he seemed so muddle headed that he couldn’t tell right from wrong.
He stuttered constantly, and his eyes darted around nervously.
Anyone could tell he was a drug user.
There was no way she was the only one who noticed.
“Your Grace the Duchess, it’s so lovely to see you here.”
A small group of women approached and greeted them brightly.
They were the noble ladies who had visited House Bayern not long ago.
“Viscountess Howard, it’s good to see you again. Is your child doing well?”
“Yes, they had such a wonderful time that day that they’re begging to visit House Bayern again.”
“If we get the chance, we should host another party. By the way, Madam, I suppose you also have ties with the Beverleys.”
“Oh, not House Beverley. I came because I have a small connection with Countess Bernard. Speaking of which…”
Viscountess Howard glanced toward George’s direction, then subtly shook her head.
So it wasn’t just her who noticed something was off.
The ladies gathered here also seemed to pick up on George’s strange condition at a glance, their expressions tinged with concern.
Nina traced the words ‘cloakroom’ on Ash’s back with her fingertips, then spoke.
“…Honey, I’ll excuse myself for a moment.”
She meant she was going to the ladies’ room.
Today’s main figures were George and Sophia.
Even so, it was uncomfortable in many ways that they weren’t receiving proper congratulations, and besides, her stomach hurt a bit.
“Don’t forget what I told you.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Nina left the main couple as they were and excused herself from the guests flocking toward her and Ash, then slipped out.
After finishing in the restroom, Nina slowly walked down the corridor, letting her eyes wander.
Walls lined with brass sconces.
Various paintings displayed at regular intervals.
Among them were works by famous painters she had seen before, but nothing she was looking for.
George was said to visit a gallery once a month.
He might simply be going to appreciate art, but if he visited monthly, it was highly likely he had purchased at least one piece.
‘If he visited the Delphinium Gallery, then he must have bought something there too…’
Could he have hung it in the long gallery?
The long gallery usually displayed family portraits, but on party days, portraits were taken down and replaced with decorative paintings.
Thinking it was possible, her steps headed toward the long gallery.
Since it was a space open to guests, she walked without hesitation.
It was the hour when dinner and conversation would be flowing in the banquet hall.
Perhaps because Ash was remaining there, not a single person was in sight.
Despite the bright lights, the long gallery felt desolately empty.
Nina walked slowly and examined the paintings.
“……”
This art style. She had seen it before at an exhibition hosted by the Delphinium Foundation.
A bizarre painting that gave off an oddly unpleasant and violent impression.
Paintings in a similar style were lined up in a row.
Anyone could tell they were works by artists belonging to the Delphinium Foundation.
‘…Who painted this?’
She was studying the painter’s signature written at the bottom when she heard it.
“…George, how can you just walk off like that, what about the guests!”
Sophia’s voice grew closer and closer.
Before she realized it, Nina had slipped behind a large structure to hide.
