The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 166

The ladies were of two minds.

 

“Mrs. Gregg has won the respect of many ladies with her grace and wisdom, and we are unspeakably disappointed that such a person would write such a vulgar novel.”

 

The ladies on the other side of the table chimed in.

 

“Have you ever read Mrs. Gregg’s novels? They are misunderstood for their bold descriptions, but the story and style are superb, and my respect for her grows even more when I learn that she has written such a work.”

 

The women’s reactions were more muted.

 

They didn’t dare say anything unkind in front of Dahlia (even if they were afraid of Marigold).

 

But not Dahlia’s mother and in-laws.

 

The elders of both families, who had held government positions for generations and valued uprightness and character, were more than disappointed; they felt betrayed.

 

“I can’t believe my good daughter writes such manly things… She’s so ashamed of herself that she can’t even go out to social gatherings.”

 

“I was so happy to have an intelligent daughter-in-law, and then this happened…”

 

Dahlia’s eyes widened as she stood still and listened to the barrage of criticism.

 

Her husband, Count Gregg, stood before her.

 

As if to defend her.

 

“Dahlia’s work has been recognized by the public and is having a tremendous impact. You and Firance have done something unprecedented for the Greggs and the Firanches. You may not praise it, but do not condemn it.”

 

The elders of the household stiffened at the words of the ever-polite Count Gregg.

 

“What, what?”

 

“I’m going to go now, and if you’re going to say anything like that again, don’t call me anymore.”

 

With those words, Count Gregg took Dahlia’s hand and left the manor.

 

Dahlia looked at her husband in surprise.

 

Of all the people in the world, she thought, he would be the most disappointed.

 

She hadn’t spoken to him since she told him she was Redlip.

 

But this was his reaction…

 

Dahlia asked, confused.

 

“Why are you taking my side?”

 

“Where’s your side of the story? We’re a married couple.”

 

“…….”

 

Dahlia had married into an arranged marriage like any other noblewoman.

 

Her husband, stiff as a board, was scrupulously polite to her, but that was all.

 

‘I thought you had no affection for me…’

 

Dahlia said, her voice a little smaller.

 

“I thought you’d be angry.”

 

Count Gregg arched an eyebrow.

 

“Why would I be angry?”

 

“You have an extreme aversion to doing anything undignified.”

 

“…….”

 

In truth, Count Gregg was so stunned when he learned Dahlia’s secret that he could barely compose himself.

 

‘My wife wrote a novel?’

 

A novel about the Northern Grand duke’s burning blah blah blah that had the capital in a frenzy.

 

After a night of shock, Count Gregg went to the bookstore to find his wife’s book.

 

But everywhere he looked, it was sold out and unavailable.

 

The bookseller said,

 

“Sir, that author’s books are hard to find these days. Even when new copies come in, there are so many orders that the competition is fierce. If you’re in a hurry, you might as well get a second-hand copy, though it will be a bit more expensive.”

 

It wasn’t just a little expensive.

 

He got the book for a price that would have been comparable to a centuries-old manuscript.

 

The Northern Grand Duke’s Burning Heart.

 

The title shocked him.

 

Count Gregg, who had never read anything like it before, hesitated before flipping through the pages. And…

 

“I’ve never felt such emotions while reading a book before. My heart was pounding, as if I had entered that world. It was a mystical experience.”

 

“…….”

 

Dahlia couldn’t believe his words.

 

A strict man who dressed formally from head to toe, even in the most urgent of circumstances, enjoyed reading a novel she wrote?

 

When Dahlia was stunned, Count Gregg continued.

 

“It is truly remarkable what you have written, Dahlia.”

 

“…….”

 

A single tear leaked from Dahlia’s eye at that simple word.

 

Count Gregg was taken aback by his wife’s tears, who had never shown any signs of weakness before.

 

He handed Dahlia the handkerchief in his arms and turned away.

 

It was not polite to watch a woman weep.

 

As he stared at the sky, he heard Dahlia’s tearful voice in his ear.

 

“I’m glad to hear you say that.”

 

He wonders what face she’s saying that with.

 

Count Gregg looked at Dahlia again, unable to help himself.

 

Dahlia was smiling with watery eyes.

 

It was the first girlish smile he had seen in three years of marriage, and the tips of his ears turned red.

 

 

“That night, we had a more passionate night than the first.”

 

Dahlia said to Artia, hiding the heat in her face at the memory of the past.

 

“You said you helped Dan buy the building.”

 

The show was a hit, the novel sold like hotcakes, and Dan’s publishing company, which exclusively published all of Redlip’s work, made a fortune.

 

With the money he’d been saving up, Dan bought the entire building.

 

Not in a dark back alley, but on a sunny side street.

 

He also hired five new employees.

 

Marigold’s eyes lit up as she listened with amusement.

 

“With a publishing house like that, Redlip must be a very rich man indeed.”

 

Dahlia didn’t deny it.

 

“I gave each of my foster parents a cottage, and they don’t complain much these days.”

 

“As they say, money is the best defense against complaining.”

 

Dahlia said to Marigold, who nodded.

 

“Count Golgus is making a fortune from the snow diamonds, too.”

 

“Yeah, he’s so excited, he carries me and Cecil around whenever he comes home.”

 

Marigold said, pulling Freesia into a hug.

 

“Does the princess, too?”

 

Freesia blushed and nodded.

 

She was nothing compared to Dahlia and Marigold, but she was making money she’d never dreamed of.

 

Penelope, sitting across from her, said with a look of envy on her face.

 

“They’re all so cool.”

 

Artia, who was sitting next to Penelope, said,

 

“Pepe, would you like to work with me?”

 

Penelope was startled by the question.

 

“What would I do?”

 

“I’m setting up a new public relations department and I’m looking for someone to take care of it. I was thinking you might be a good fit.”

 

Penelope blushed and threw up her hands.

 

“I’ve never done anything like that. I don’t know anything about it…”

 

Freesia interjected.

 

“Me neither, but once I got into it, I realized it was worth it.”

 

Marigold chimed in.

 

“When Pepe speaks, all the socialites listen. She’s very good at public relations. I’m sure she’ll do well.”

 

Dahlia nodded.

 

The women’s support gave Penelope a boost of courage.

 

“Shall we do it then?”

 

Unable to finish her sentence, Artia held out the contract she had prepared.

 

The Flower Ladies thought to themselves.

 

“Artia von Edenberg, contract collector!”

 

It was Artia’s new nickname, as yet unknown to the parties.

 

 

* * *

 

 

A meeting of the Edenbergs was called.

 

The anger of the uncles, who had been growling with rage, was tempered when Artia announced that from now on, she would not just give them the money.

 

So be it.

 

If they made a scene, they might not even get their monthly allowance.

 

‘He who has the money holds the power.’

 

Artia led the meeting with a newfound sense of the power of money.

 

As the agenda of ongoing business and family matters came to a close, Derek spoke up.

 

“I will represent House Edenberg at the next meeting of the nobility.”

 

The Noble Council.

 

It was a once-a-year meeting that brought together representatives of the thirty leading families of the Empire.

 

After Artia’s divorce, Crank had been the representative, but now that he was absent, it was only natural that the next in line, Derek, should attend.

 

But Ian’s face was puzzled.

 

“I’m attending as the Duke of Edenberg’s representative, it’s not like you have to go, I’ll go.”

 

Derek exclaimed in confusion.

 

“What do you mean, of course I’m going, I’m second in line.”

 

“Aye, don’t be too hard on yourself if you’re too weak to pay a visit to your brother Crank in prison.”