The Northern Mad Dog Wags It’s Tail

For the past few days, the mad dogs of the northern territories, the playboys of high society, and the woman who took care of the playboy’s mischievous deeds, none of them had come looking for themselves, so Britia thought.

Finally, the chaotic and confusing days had come to an end, and she returned to her ordinary daily life.

But that tranquility was just a fleeting moment before a greater chaos began.

“Last time, I couldn’t come myself, so I apologize,” Harty approached Britia, taking her hand and pretending to kiss the back of it while giving her a sly wink. Britia noticed that his eyes were burning with anger and swallowed hard.

He must have discovered Sig’s matter.

“Since I went as a substitute, it’s fine. What do you have to apologize for, my lord?” Kyra said sharply, her face exuding arrogance. She didn’t forget to look down at Britia with a displeased expression.

“Still, Kyra, oh, I truly apologize for that day, Britia. Please forgive me,” Harty bowed slightly and embraced her with one arm.

“Dare you try to trick me? I can never forgive you,” Britia shivered. The sweet and gentle voice she had heard a while ago was now quietly emanating anger into her ears.

“Lady Robley, the Duchess, is also here,” Harty grinned and the Duchess’s mouth twitched.

“You said you liked it quiet because there were no people, right? But now it’s so noisy.”

Kyra crossed her arms and became annoyed, but Harty stopped her.

“What’s the problem when we are in the company of good people?”

Hmph, scoffing Kyra and Harty took their seats at Britannia’s right table. Lady Robley and Marcus sat at her left table.

“I thought we were lucky to get the last terrace seat available….” Britia muttered with a sigh, feeling uncomfortable in this awkward situation.

Unlike the melancholic Britia, Lady Robley was currently extremely excited.

In fact, she was feeling displeased when the waiter mentioned that the third floor was fully booked, and they had to reserve a table on the second-floor terrace. But to her surprise, guess who was there? Britia, who had politely declined all her invitations and urgings after the last party.

It was fate that they came out together with Marcus. Of course, Lady Robley believed that these two were destined to get married.

“But why is that fox-like man here too?” The Duchess pursed her lips while watching Harty conversing with Kyra, her face full of smiles.

“I heard recently that Lord Slanford is searching for the Lockhart Mansion so eagerly.”

Upon hearing that, the Duchess felt like her eyes were about to roll back. How dare this womanizer without any manners meddle around Britia, her niece-in-law’s surroundings?

He was so sly, that fox-like man. Surely, he must have realized how obedient and perfect a wife Britia would become. He must have pretended to come here coincidentally, but in fact, did he come knowing that Britia would be here?

He’s like a stalker!

“Britia, order anything you like. We’ll take care of the bill at Robley.”

The Duchess smiled as she said that to Britia, who had a serious expression while looking at the menu.

She had no intention of letting that womanizer steal her niece-in-law (prospective) away, so she was determined to show off her prowess.

Meanwhile, when Hartt Slanford saw Britia, he was about to shout her name out of anger, but he managed to control himself, which he found quite impressive.

“Did you know?” Kyra asked quietly, pointing at Britia with her eyes, and Harty shrugged in response, making sure others couldn’t hear.

How could he have known that the woman would be here? He had only instructed the butler to reserve a table on the second-floor terrace.

“The weather is really nice today. Kyra, are you not feeling hot? You don’t seem to be sweating at all, but that’s okay. If you were already sweating on a day like this, you’d melt away in the middle of summer, right? Well, there are people like that, I suppose,” Harty said, glancing at Britia, who tried not to turn her head towards him despite sweating slightly.

Having fallen down the staircase at the mansion, Harty had been in a rage for a while, lying in bed. Ever since Kyra told him that Britia had maliciously changed the tea party schedule, he had been relentlessly angry, not taking a break for even a moment!

Thanks to all that, he strained his temporomandibular joint, and now he was contemplating how to take revenge on Britia, even including her pain in his blame.

“Britia, order anything you’d like without hesitation.”

He was determined to seek revenge, no doubt about that, but somehow, at this moment, it was the Duchess of Robley, raising her voice and constantly watching him from the corner of her eye, that annoyed him more than Britia.

“Thank you, Lady Duchess, but there’s no need to do that.”

“I just want to do anything for Britia whenever I see her.”

He found it amusing how she pretended to be generous, repeatedly speaking to Britia at the adjacent table. Why didn’t she just join their table if she wanted to be together? Harty understood the reason why she couldn’t do that.

“Marcus, why do you always dawdle when getting ready to go out?”

There was only one reason she suddenly got angry at her nephew.

If the Duchess of Robley had taken her seat first, there wouldn’t have been a problem. Then she could have kindly allowed Britia’s group to join them when they arrived late.

“Just today, okay? You made us late because of you.”

“I wasn’t that late.”

“You really need to fix that aspect.”

But in the opposite scenario, if they wanted to sit together with Britia’s group, they would have to request her permission, seeking her approval. Only then would the Duchess be satisfied.

However, asking them to move to their table was not an option. It wouldn’t be appropriate for her, who wanted to present herself as a “kind and non-authoritative” Duchess.

“Heh.”

It was laughable to see her venting her anger on her nephew like this. Harty couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Having fun, I suppose?”

Kyra asked, and Harty grinned.

“I’m just excited to try some food.”

Harty hummed a little tune, pretending to check the menu, while listening to the conversations at nearby tables.

“Still, washing meticulously and staying clean is a wonderful thing. Even for someone who will become a wife. Right, Britia?”

The Duchess appeared to have directed her outburst towards her nephew, and in her fury, she specifically targeted Britain. This piqued Harty’s interest even further, and she considered postponing her desire for revenge against the Duchess for the time being.

While Harty enjoyed the situation, Britia wished she could leave the café right now and come back some other time.

“Earlier, Marcus said something rude, I apologize for that, Britia. He rarely gets the chance to talk to such a beauty, so he must have been nervous,” the Duchess of Robley persistently tried to connect her nephew with Britia, watching them with a smirking Kyra, and Harty observing them with amusement from the corner of his eye. Britia wanted to escape from all of them.

“Aunt, what are you saying?”

“Be quiet. I’m just explaining that he said those things because he was embarrassed, so she won’t misunderstand.”

The Duchess glared fiercely at Marcus, warning him to keep his mouth shut.

“Even if he appears that way, he has regretted and reflected on his actions many times since then.”

Britia found it hard to say anything and awkwardly smiled. Seeing Marcus, who was sitting in front of her, with a stern expression, he didn’t seem to agree with her aunt’s words at all.

“How can anyone live without making a mistake even once? We all repent and learn from it, right, Lady Lockhart?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Lady Lockhart dutifully chimed in with a smile, but her eyes were wavering uncomfortably in this situation.

“But isn’t Marcus quite a decent person?”

The Duchess of Robley asked Britia with a side glance. Although she didn’t move her chair, her body seemed to lean towards Britia, as if her bottom would slip off the chair at any moment.

“It’s not just because he’s my nephew. I’m saying it sincerely.”

“Heh.”

Britia hesitated on how to respond, and from the right, she heard Kyra’s laughter. When people looked at her, she received a cup of coffee from the staff with a slightly self-conscious expression, as if asking why they were looking at her.

“Cough.”

The Duchess coughed to express her displeasure, then smiled again and looked at Britia. Marcus sitting in front of her was blushing slowly.

“What can anyone do with such a handsome face? It’s not like we’re going to tear that face off and eat it. He’ll probably wander around carelessly, giving people looks here and there.”

The Duchess of Robley shifted her gaze to Kyra, speaking with a side glance.

“As I’ve said before, my older brother, Earl Beaumex, really cherishes this child.”

That’s why he’s so spoiled and troubled right now, but the Duchess swallowed those words.

“He would do anything for this girl if she finds someone to marry.”

“Is that so?” Harty said with a smirk.

Britia wished they would stop talking about this. There was no way she or that man would ever feel that way about each other.

“He doesn’t even need a dowry,” the Duchess continued.

“Harty, what do you think?” Kyra asked loudly, as if urging the Duchess to listen.

“I mean, saying that someone only needs to bring their body might sound romantic, but how pitiful would a man be if all he wanted was someone’s body?”

When Britia looked back, Kyra burst into laughter.

“And what about the woman who accepts such a marriage proposal?”

“I guess she’s better off than the woman who can’t get married and spends her time eavesdropping on other people’s conversations.”

The Duchess of Robley blushed up to her neck and glanced at Kyra.

“Britia, this simply means you don’t have to worry about any burden. You understand, right?”

The Duchess raised the corners of her mouth, hoping it wouldn’t hurt Britia’s feelings. In response, Marcus banged the table.

“Marcus? What on earth are you doing?”

The surprised Duchess of Robley’s eyes widened.

“I told you. I hate Lockhart.”

“Why on earth do you hate them? They come from a prestigious Southern family.”

“Prestigious? So what? They’re just outdated!”

“Marcus!”

Marcus stood up abruptly and pointed at Britia.

“Lockhart is just a bunch of beggars begging around!”

The terrace fell silent at Marcus’ outburst. Britia couldn’t believe her ears.

“What did you just say?”

The cup in Britia’s hand clenched into a tight fist. She was angry at that moment and thought that if he apologized right away, she might still forgive him.

“Beggars begging around?”

So she asked him one last time, but instead of apologizing, he defiantly kept pointing at her.