TMIAP Chapter 38

Luis drained the rest of his drink in one gulp.

At an afternoon party, emptying one's glass of sparkling wine in a single draught was the mark of a vulgar person, but Luis didn't care about such things.

After all, it was Enrique who'd be misunderstood, not him.

Soon Liella Mollette finished tuning the piano and began conversing with the violin player.

Luis gazed at Liella Mollette absently. A young lady with such an enormous dowry that she could choose anyone, yet who desired only the highest honor.

Rumors were already rife that Enrique Solivén would marry her.

Luis knew perfectly well that Lady Solivén had already rejected the Mollette family once.

Nevertheless, the reason Enrique had placed Liella Mollette among his prospective brides was simply due to his conscientiousness.

Because she was the surest path to repaying the family's debt most quickly.

"Probably no one would think it strange if Enrique suddenly proposed to Liella Mollette at this very party, would they?"

"What?"

Andrei jumped.

"Such rudeness is impossible!"

"But according to Enrique, that young lady seems to want him to commit just such a rudeness."

Luis laughed quietly to himself.

The excited atmosphere, people's flushed faces. Toes moving as if dancing, beautiful music continuing without pause. Bright lights and beautiful clothes, men's voices reciting poetry, young ladies' laughter.

Luis knew there'd been a time when Enrique had loved such things. The man who'd believed only good things would last forever could no longer feel anything special about them now.

'Where shall I go tonight?'

Enrique and Luis had distinctly different objectives. Andrei had called it a perverse fixation, but Luis didn't care. He didn't have time to care about such things—Luis's time was limited.

While drinking and turning things over in his mind, Luis's gaze suddenly stopped at one spot.

A young woman entering the hall alone, holding the hands of two children. Monica Orphen.

Luis's hand moved of its own accord, snatching a glass from a passing servant's tray.

His steps quickly sought an opportunity, then moved toward her as she hesitated and stepped back. Behind him, Andrei whispered like a stifled scream.

"Where are you going?!"

Luis bared his teeth in a bright smile. There was a saying that you couldn't spit in a smiling face, but right now Andrei looked as if he could spit in his face ten times over. Luis didn't care.

"I'm terribly sorry, ah—"

The moment she looked up after their collision, Luis wanted to tease this young lady. So he pretended to be Enrique. Monica's face turned bright red. Did she think he was ignoring her?

But Monica didn't flee from him. The finger tugging at his sleeve made him feel somehow cheerful.

That Enrique Solivén was a handsome man—Monica had learned that thoroughly from their encounter in the drawing room just now.

But sitting on the small bench beside the colonnade with his long legs elegantly crossed, he was, even on second viewing, a truly magnificent beauty.

The same face, yet the impression was utterly different. She'd met Enrique mostly in the dark of night, by candlelight, whereas she'd always met Luis in daylight—that must account for some of it.

Dazzling afternoon sunlight poured into the colonnade, finished attractively with gray brick.

He wore a dark suit with a fine lace cravat at his throat. His damp forehead and slightly disheveled golden hair were more than sufficient to inspire romantic imaginings in an innocent young lady's heart.

"Sit down, Moni."

Luis unfastened his cravat without hesitation.

The broad thing looked old-fashioned and rather expensive, but Luis laid it beside himself. Meaning for Monica to sit there.

Monica didn't refuse. If Enrique Solivén had offered, she couldn't possibly have sat and would have declined, but thinking of him as Luis made it somehow comfortable.

The moment she sat, Monica looked up at Luis intently. Luis grinned.

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Mm..."

Monica's green eyes, full of unfamiliarity and suspicion, met Luis's blue ones.

"It's just so strange. That face smiling like this."

Luis couldn't possibly misunderstand what 'that face' and 'like this' meant.

The handsome man laughed—ha-ha-ha—quietly. The piano in the hall was now playing fierce and grand low notes. Somehow hearing that music made Monica think of Liella throwing a tantrum, and she couldn't help giggling.

"Andrei tells me much the same thing every day."

"Ah, your secretary."

Monica tilted her head, recalling Andrei with his severe spectacles. Luis continued.

"He says if I'm going to use this face like this, I should please just go out right now and seduce every young lady at that party, then disappear."

"Ah-ha?"

"Though of course Enrique would have to deal with the aftermath."

"And are you planning to?"

Instead of answering Monica's question, Luis winked.

"All right, Miss. I owe you an apology, don't I?"

Monica immediately understood what he meant. He must be referring to when they'd met Liella on the commercial street, and he'd pulled Monica into a building's shadow to avoid the noble ladies.

Luis had lied to her then. But she could understand why. Monica shrugged.

"I understand. I'd have done the same. After all, Lord Solivén is courting young ladies, and it wouldn't look particularly good for Luis to be seen strolling about the commercial street with me."

The man smiled gently.

"I'd like you to think of it as amusing coincidences continuing until we met."

"You philanderer."

Monica crossed her arms and scolded Luis with a frown. Luis spread his arms in an exaggerated gesture.

"But doesn't it feel like fate? You met me first, then you met Garcia. After meeting me, you even ended up meeting Enrique. That I saw you at the harbor was truly..."

"That's enough, Luis."

Monica lightly pushed his forehead with her finger.

"However eloquently you phrase it, I won't be fooled. Don't go dripping things when you have no real feeling for me."

"What am I dripping?"

Luis pretended to scan the floor with his gaze. Monica stated flatly.

"Men like you are said to be 'dripping.' Figure out for yourself what you're dripping."

"My. When someone drops something, isn't it a lady's virtue to pick it up and return it?"

"Deliberately dropped items always have intent behind them, Luis."

And she quickly added:

"And it's the way of the world that terrible things happen if you pick up such things carelessly."

"But I might truly have fallen for you!"

Luis whispered softly, mixing in laughter. Monica thought it would be nice if she could thump this troublesome philanderer on the forehead.

But what if, when he woke up and Enrique Solivén's personality regained his body, he wondered about the small red mark on his forehead?

And what if this philandering personality, who shared experiences with the others, tattled to Enrique that Monica had thumped him?

Monica wasn't the adventurous type, so she drew her chin back and made a sour face.

"When men say such things to me, it's always followed by something rather unwelcome."

"Good heavens, Moni-Moni. A declaration of love!"

And a declaration made with this face, no less! Luis cupped his chin, demonstratively batting his eyes at her.

It was refreshing to see him act so frivolously with that face... This must be the moment when one understood Andrei Regis's sufferings.

"Well, let's hear just how unwelcome it was, shall we?"

Luis uncrossed his long legs and crossed them the other way, leaning toward Monica. Monica pushed that handsome face away mercilessly with her palm and answered.

"The worst thing I've heard was a marriage proposal."

The golden-haired, blue-eyed beauty absolutely roared with laughter.

"This is incredible! What a bleak life you've led, Moni-Moni!"

For such an adorable young lady to call a proposal the worst thing! Luis uncrossed his legs entirely and stamped his feet as he laughed.

"You're a young lady in the bloom of youth. Not dreaming of a romantic proposal but calling proposals the worst—I've never heard such a thing!"

Then he pointed at the ceiling. Without saying so, he clearly meant the second floor.

"Even the young ladies up there came here hoping to receive proposals."

"Well, they're from good families, so of course. What's so funny?"

Monica was offended by Luis's laughter.

She showed her displeasure openly and shifted back about a hand's width. Luis immediately stopped laughing, pulled Monica's hand to him, and kissed it.

"Ah, Moni-Moni. I'm sorry. I just thought it didn't suit lovely Moni to be so bleak about love."

"That's your opinion."

"I'm truly sorry, Monica. Tell me your story. I'll listen seriously."

Luis even went so far as to kneel before Monica immediately.

Monica said, "No, there's no need to kneel..." but Luis seemed determined not to rise until she spoke again. Already frightened that someone might see this spectacle, Monica's face reddened as she looked around, then finally opened her mouth.

"It's not much of a story. I was a nurse, as you know. Someone I nursed proposed to me."

It had been a good family.

If Monica had married that person, she'd never have had to worry about employment for the rest of her life. But that proposal, far from being romantic to Monica, had felt like an assault, she confessed.

"An assault."

"The kind of proposal that suddenly pounces on an orphan like me, carries her off to hide in a dilapidated house, and never spits her out again."

In one way, Monica understood Luis's innocence.

Anyone would. Among the ladies and gentlemen gathered above, weren't most of the young people assembled there to make successful marriages?

Even ten-year-old Isabella chattered about marrying Martinael or not marrying him, just like the adults.

When even such a tiny girl spoke of marriage like a transaction, how absurd must Monica's words sound—as if she were hostile to marriage itself?

But truly, these people only said such things because they didn't know. Though of course, not knowing wasn't wrong.

The young man Monica had nursed would live with a disability for life. If she'd been drawn by immediate wealth and married him, Monica would have spent her entire life at that young man's side.

What if the man's manner of proposing had been more like a transaction, like the nobles upstairs?

I'll see you don't starve for three meals a day, so please nurse me for life. If it had been that, Monica wouldn't have described it as an assault.

The entire situation had been unbearable. The man had assumed Monica would naturally accept his proposal with grateful tears.

People couldn't understand why this poor orphan girl wouldn't accept such an 'august' proposal. So Monica had run away. From the capital to La Spezia.

Throughout Monica's tale, Luis had been pressing his lips together tightly. Now his eyebrows softened apologetically.

"People were cruel to you."

"You think so? You were laughing at me just moments ago."

At Monica's sarcasm, Luis sighed.

"I'm in a similar position. Until just moments ago, I was asked to please, by all means, cooperate with Enrique Solivén's marriage... and if that doesn't work, how about standing in for the wedding ceremony in Enrique's place?"

"Yes, to Liella Mollette."

The magnificent man before her sighed. Luis was telling her that he too was being pressured into proposing—in that respect, he was similar to Monica.

But Monica was skeptical about whether their marriages were truly the same as hers.

The young lady she served, her old friend—even if this prince-like man proposed reluctantly, that girl would savor every moment of the situation and be blessed by everyone.

'Savor... is it?'

As Monica thought this, Liella caught in her mind—click. That expression on Liella's face that day, desperately talking to Enrique about marriage.