The man sitting across from Madeline was quiet. That one thing was the same as before.
Even in her previous life, her husband was very quiet. He rarely even said a few words in a row, like when he grabbed Madeline’s wrist and pursued her.
But now his silence didn’t feel as forced as it had before. It just gave the impression that he was a quiet type by nature. Thanks to this, Madeline had to listen to the Baron babbling about Italy.
In the past, she would have made a pleasant comment about the Renaissance painters… But now she couldn’t concentrate on the conversation because all nerves were on her ex-husband.
The Ian Nottingham in front of her now was Ian Nottingham, but he was not Ian Nottingham.
This contradiction-filled sentence was true in the paradox Madeline faced.
The man in front of her now did not look unhappy or distressed. He was the epitome of the perfect gentleman: young, handsome, and competent. The Count’s son who expected only the best in future, which was spread out as plainly as a fine carpet. It was itself.
Confidence erupted from his upright posture. There was a marked difference in attitude between him and Baron Loenfield, a provincial aristocrat who made a lot of noise.
Before the regression, Ian Nottingham wouldn’t even make eye contact with Madeline. He didn’t even like to be in the same space as her, and when she touched the back of his burned hand, he would scream and get angry. His posture was always hunched.
The difference between this Nottingham and that Nottingham was too vivid. In fact, it wasn’t an exaggeration to say that she was mistaken for others.
She was looking sideways at the man, and Madeline and Ian Nottingham’s gazes met. Madelaine turned her head quickly, but it didn’t help that she had already been found out.
Then an unbelievable scene unfolded.
The man smiled slightly at her. It was as if it was natural for Madeline to stare at him.
The emotionless face seemed much more plausible and handsome as the warmth of the smile spread.
‘Does he think I’m not talking because I’m shy?’
As far as Madeline was concerned, it was rather fortunate if he misunderstood her that way. In reality, the current situation was very strange and uncomfortable.
Perhaps it was a physiological rejection. Or should she say that she felt like she was seeing something that didn’t fit the logic? She was curious.
The Ian Nottingham she knew was an unhappy man, a man who had to be unhappy, but the man in front of her now was a young, confident, and promising man.
He was a glittering figure of a man that Madeline, the daughter of a country nobleman, would not have looked at.
She had to accept the fact that he was the man right in front of her before the war destroyed him. It was a fact that she dared not try to confirm.
Madeline Loenfield could not close her eyes or open them completely in the face of that truth.
She knew the ending. For a moment, she felt sorry for the man. It was dangerous.
She should stay as far away from him as possible. Madeline repeated in her mind.
* * * *
-22-year-old Madeline.
Madeline didn’t mean to hate her husband from the beginning. She knew that she could not love him, but she still wanted to make it work. She already knew that love was not essential between a husband and wife.
Even if they didn’t love each other, she wanted to be a good couple.
Lead the wounded man to the right path and be loyal to him. Make him better. She wanted to be a wise wife who people would admire.
But her naive dream had hit the rocks and shattered, as it always did. She didn’t get along with him from the beginning.
The Count had not appeared in her bedroom since the first night.
She was confused as to whether she should be relieved or distressed. Sleeping together was hard to even imagine, but still, such a rejection was insulting.
Not only on their wedding night that he did not come, the Count did not want to spend any time with Madeline. They always ate their meals in separate studies and never spent time together over tea. Of course, they didn’t play tennis or discuss family affairs.
It wasn’t until a month after the wedding that Madeline spoke to him for the first time. Even that was closer to a meeting than to an ordinary conversation.
She sat leaning back in the big chair in her study and said to the man who looked up at her like she was a ghost.
“You seem to have forgotten that I exist.”
Did he laugh? No, he did not laugh. His gaunt, pale face was lit from the fire of the stove.
“I haven’t forgotten.”
He said in a tired and weary voice. Madeline bit her lips in frustration.
‘Lie. You’re messing with me.’
She wanted to tell him off somehow, but she didn’t want to expose her weaknesses that badly. The more angry she got at him, the more desperate she would look.
“It’s boring.”
It was the best protest she could muster. ‘It boring,’ she said, pretending to be a timid woman.
Madeline became a little scared when the Count didn’t respond to anything she said. She really thought that he might be Frankenstein’s monster from the war trenches, as the rumors said. It seemed that he would stand up soon and strangle her.
He didn’t say anything for a really long time. As if the dead were looking at the living, he just looked at his wife without any vitality.
With a warped smile, he turned his face to Madeline. Then a part of his face appeared, disfigured and distorted by huge scars and burns.
Unable to breathe, Madeline walked straight out of that cursed room. Her steps were fast as she walked down the hallway. She wanted to cry out like a child, but she was no longer a child.
She was scared. No, she was more ashamed than scared.
He just scared her like that and she ran away in fear.
A coward.
Madeline blamed herself.
The next day, the butler of Nottingham mansion presented her with a small puppy. This was as good as an insult.
‘I cannot be your husband, so if you are bored, take the puppy and play with it.’
His gift was a declaration of sorts. Madeline held the trembling little puppy and closed her eyes. She just wanted to turn into a little ball and disappear from the world.
* * *
Madeline was back to seventeen years old now. She couldn’t accept the fact that Ian Nottingham was the man in front of her before the war destroyed him.
She couldn’t believe he was such a healthy man.
She had never known him to be such a spirited man.
It was a fact that Madeline didn’t dare try to confirm or know.
“Are you sick?”
There was a hint of annoyance in her father’s voice. Now he seemed to want to buy Ian Nottingham’s attention to the maximum. He wanted to show off his pretty daughter sooner.
He didn’t seem to think about how much that action would make the man laugh.
Madeline, with older mental age and experience, found her father’s actions to be very childish. She began to see little by little what she could not see before.
She reflected on her previous life. Even before the war, the Nottingham enjoyed the most power in the country. Along with the great success of their investments in America, they even had the title of “war heroes” and grew in stature.
Although there was no war at this point in time, it was said that the family was still very powerful in the past.
Of course, the head of that powerful Count family became an incredible recluse, and all sorts of rumors spread. Rumors that he was manipulating world affairs behind the scenes. Count Nottingham and his family company were dizzyingly wealthy, and Madeline couldn’t even begin to estimate their wealth.
She was able to buy everything she wanted in her previous life. Custom-made clothes from various designers. She could even get jewelry quickly if she wanted it. However, she quickly got tired of it.
It had never happened before that her father would bring Ian Nottingham to her with his mouth full. The Loenfield and the Nottingham family knew each other but it was only a shallow exchange of one-sided knowledge of things by her father.
The reason why Madeline was able to marry Ian Nottingham before her regression…. All because he was badly injured in the war. In fact, he was an opponent who couldn’t be underestimated.
No, frankly, even now she couldn’t understand why he had chosen her.
When Madeline was silent and lost in thoughts, the Baron let out a series of unsatisfied coughs. Ian Nottingham, who stared at him, opened his mouth.
“I have heard that the Baron is interested in riding.”
It was a sudden change of subject, but the Baron was happy to bite the bait.
Soon after, the two men talked about riding. About the difference between a hackney and a thoroughbred. They had a dialogue about what kind of harness they liked.
The Baron had no athletic aptitude, but simply liked riding aesthetically. On the other hand, Ian who opened the conversation seemed to be more interested in the sport itself.
It was an unexpected discovery for Madeline. It couldn’t be said that Ian was active. He had been confined to the mansion for the entirety of their married life. He didn’t walk around the mansion, he only stayed on the upper floors. He only went out to do business.
The carriage soon arrived at the mansion while the two men were talking about horse breeds.
* * *
When Frederick, the head butler of the Loenfield family, saw the three of them, he bowed politely.
“Did you have a good trip?”
“Of course, Fred. I met Master Nottingham in London. I brought him all the way here because he was just in the area on business. Prepare the best refreshments for him.
“I will do as you ask.”
Madeline tried to make up an excuse that she wasn’t feeling well. But the Baron was unfazed. ‘Play the piano, which you played very well. Show him the pictures.’ There was a hint of coercion and pressure in the Baron’s words. Whether it was the first time she had seen her father in ten years or not, it was annoying.
“I’m fine.” (Ian)
Ian Nottingham, for his part, first made his intentions clear. He seemed fine, and the bickering between the father and daughter was a bit irritating.
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‘I really don’t understand you,’ the Baron snapped at Madeline quietly, then disappeared into the parlor.
However, Ian Nottingham did not give Madeline a glance.