The Search for the Duchess’s Husband Chapter 48

Helen looked at Humphrey and lowered her eyebrows.

 

“Honey, you’re giving me that look again. Are you so sorry that Julie is getting married?”

 

“…I am.”

 

“So am I, but you shouldn’t be. It’s her happiest day and you should be smiling.”

 

“…Yes, I should.”

 

Just then the maid came and said, “Madame Diora is here.”

 

Helen’s eyes lit up like a child’s when she heard about Santa’s visit, and she grabbed Artia’s hand.

 

“Come, let’s go and see what beautiful wedding dresses Diora has made.”

 

Madame Diora. The designer Helen had entrusted with Juliette’s wedding dress twenty years ago.

 

Seeing Helen sitting there looking relaxed, Diora exclaimed. “Madame, you look so much healthier!”

 

“You talk as if I were ill. I have a cold and am taking medicine, but I am fine. You’re the one with the bad face. You must have had a hard time making that dress.”

 

Diora lowered her eyebrows at Helen’s concerned expression.

 

‘I’m not disfigured, I’m just older. I’m no longer a working designer passionately following trends, I’m just a retired old lady.’

 

Instead of saying the words, Diora nodded.

 

“Yes, I made the dresses for you and Juliet with all my might.”

 

Diora turned her head to look at Artia.

 

Diora smiled at Artia, who swallowed hard at the sight of the first outsider she’d met since becoming Juliette.

 

“Try on your wedding gown, Miss Juliette.”

 

It was a match made in heaven, casually calling Artia Juliette.

 

After telling Diora of the situation, she picked up a needle for the first time in a long time and spent days and nights making a wedding dress.

 

Just as Helen had ordered, 20 years ago.

 

A moment later, Artia appeared in a white dress.

 

The dress was a throwback to a bygone fashion, with its puffy shoulders and tons of ribbons.

 

But the intricate embroidery on the sleeves and hem of the skirt showed the care Diora had put into its creation.

 

“This is the second wedding dress of my life. I must be very lucky with wedding dresses.”

 

Artia smiled and looked up in surprise. Helen was crying.

 

“You look so beautiful, my daughter.”

 

The warmth and affection in her eyes made Artia’s heart flutter.

 

After an awkward pause, Diora clapped her hands.

 

“It’s beautiful, even for me, and what an honor it is to be able to create such a beautiful bride’s wedding dress.”

 

With words as sweet as the tongue in her mouth, Diora added.

 

“Lady Juliette will surely be the happiest bride in the kingdom.”

 

Helen beamed as if she were about to cry.

 

“You think so too, don’t you?”

 

“Of course, whose daughter is she?”

 

Diora deftly matched Helen’s mood and cocked an eye at Artia.

 

“Wow, you’ve been in the business for decades, you’re really different.”

 

Artia gave the thumbs up with both hands in admiration.

 

After Diora left, many people visited the mansion.

 

Jewel merchants, flower merchants, shoe merchants, cosmetic merchants, silk merchants… Like Diora, they had helped Juliet prepare for her wedding 20 years earlier.

 

When Humphrey asked them to help with the fake wedding, they agreed.

 

They wanted to help the poor countess who had worked so hard to organize the wedding and never got to see it.

 

“This is the set of jewelry Her Ladyship requested. It’s a blue diamond to match the color of Lady Juliet’s eyes.”

 

“And flowers, of course, in May. We will fill the wedding with flowers in full bloom.”

 

Time seemed to stand still as the mansion erupted into a frenzy.

 

Helen held Artia’s hand as they picked out a few things in the festive atmosphere.

 

Her face was as happy as it had been twenty years ago.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The capital.

 

Rumors had been swirling around the mysterious Artia for days.

 

The most convincing was that she had been blackmailed by Shylock and had collapsed from a broken mind and body.

 

It wasn’t hard for Shylock to find the source of such nonsense.

 

It was Penelope.

 

“Artia is so desperate,” she said, “and she’s afraid she’ll lose Lake Annecy or be married off. My poor friend…”

 

The more people who were touched by Penelope, the more unkind things were said about the Rushans.

 

“So much money, so much money, and now he’s robbing Frau Edenberg.”

 

The others who had bad feelings about the Rushans also spoke up.

 

“The Duke of Edenberg isn’t the only one who borrowed money from the Rushans and suffered the consequences. Some families have been destroyed beyond repair.”

 

“No wonder. They’ve been charging exorbitant interest…. A truly evil family.”

 

Shylock, who had heard the rumors, muttered with a cold stare.

 

 

“One minute you’re on your knees begging for money, and now you’re talking shit.”

 

The old accusations didn’t bother him, but the rumors about Artia did.

 

“There is no point in letting rumors get in the way of marrying Artia von Edenberg.”

 

Shylock went first to Penelope, the source of the rumors.

 

“Madam, despite what you may have heard, there is a perfectly normal back and forth between the Duke of Edenberg and the Rushans. I hope you won’t spoil the good atmosphere with your words, unless you want to pretend to be with House Rushan.”

 

With this threatening request, Shylock held out a box.

 

Inside the luxurious velvet box, a set of jewelry glittered.

 

He held a whip in one hand and a carrot in the other. The child would grab the carrot even though he was afraid of the whip.

 

This was the skill of Shylock of Rushan, who had made his family’s business great.

 

But Penelope’s face contorted in such a way that the lady wondered if it was possible.

 

“Wow, you did this to Artia, and now you’re doing this to me, and what am I to make of it? I value my friends far more than this paltry sum.”

 

“……!”

 

“I might consider it when you’ve scraped together all the Rushans’ money.”

 

The sarcasm was obvious.

 

Shylock, realizing that this was no match for him, turned away without hesitation.

 

“No amount of talk from a woman like that will change anything.”

 

Once Simone married Artia, the rumors would die down.

 

But there was one thing that bothered him.

 

Artia’s safety.

 

He thought she was hiding in the mansion because it hurt her pride to raise the white flag right away, but if Penelope is right and she’s sick…

 

At worst, it could be self-inflicted or self-destructive.

 

Like those who have made foolish choices and are burdened by debt.

 

Shylock’s cold face hardened.

 

He felt no sorrow for the death of a human, but in this situation, if Artia went wrong, House Rushan would have someone to blame.

 

It would be the Duke of Edenberg, no matter how much the odds were against him.

 

Simone would be the one to mourn.

 

“That would be a problem.”

 

Shylock went to the Edenberg mansion with a potion said to be good for his health.

 

“I have heard that Mrs. Edenberg is not well, and I have come to visit her. Take me to her at once.”

 

But Vivi, standing before him, shook her head.

 

“My master is in no condition to receive guests.”

 

“What maid is stopping me? Show her in without further ado.”

 

A ferocious aura like that of a raging wolf emanated from Shylock, but Vivi stood her ground, as steadfast as an angry bear.

 

Shylock gritted his teeth.

 

Part of him wanted to slap the maid across the face and trample her for daring to stand in his way.

 

But the memory of the last time he’d been stopped and kicked out by Vivi prevented him from moving so easily.

 

Catherine’s voice broke the suffocating confrontation.

 

“Why are you so loud?”

 

“Godmother!”

 

For Shylock, Catherine was an obvious ally.

 

An ally with the same goal: to trap the rabbit called Artia in the cage called House Rushan.

 

Shylock smiled a snake-like smile.

 

“I have come to discuss marriage. Please allow me to meet your daughter.”