The Northern Mad Dog Wags It’s Tail

 He leaned against the armrest of the drawing room couch, closing his eyes and maintaining silence as if he had engraved the embroidery on the handkerchief in his mind.

 “Miss.”

 At that moment, the butler called Britia in a soft voice from behind the door. He glanced at Harty, who seemed completely motionless to the point where he doubted if he had actually fainted, and opened the door.

 “Lord Devon’s carriage has arrived.”

 ‘Oh, my goodness!’

 Britia momentarily forgot about her crucial task of driving that man out of the reception room.

  “Lord Slanford.”

 “…Did any guests arrive?”

 Harty’s lips twitched as he imagined Sig diligently placing each stitch with closed eyes and beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

 “No one would dare come near Lockhart Mansion because of Lady Robley. Who would come?”

 He opened his eyes, and sat up straight with a snicker.

 “Is he not someone who pays much attention to that woman?”

 “I don’t understand what you mean, Lord Slanford. Why are you suddenly mentioning Lady Robley?”

 “You’re pretending not to know?”

 Britia tilted her head as if genuinely unaware.

 “Why wouldn’t anyone visit the Lockhart Mansion? It’s because Lockhart touched Lady Robley’s honor. You’re out of favor.”

 Technically, it was the fault of her stupid nephew and her failure to properly manage him. But would the Duchess care about such things? The problem was simply that she had been embarrassed in front of many people.

 Harty examined whether she truly couldn’t grasp the situation or if she was just pretending not to notice.

 “The people following her must be cautious in case they get burned by sparks. They won’t go near Lockhart at all. Am I wrong?”

 Seeing Britia bite her lip and avert her gaze, it seemed to be the latter.

 “There actually was an incident with Beaumex. However, Lady Roblely promised to apologize later.”

 Upon hearing Britia’s words, Harty blinked rapidly.

 “You don’t seriously believe that apology, do you?”

 “….”

 “How naive.”

 Looking at Britia without a response, Harty let out a bitter laugh.

 “Do you really think that woman will keep such a promise?”

 Glaring at Harty who mocked her, Britia bit down hard on her lip. Did she really think Lady Robley would apologize?

 She hoped for it, but deep down she knew it wouldn’t happen. Several days had passed already with no contact from Robley after all.

 But that wasn’t the only problem.

 Ever since Sig visited Lockhart’s party, the many letters and invitations that used to come flying in suddenly stopped. Especially among the southern nobles centred around Robley, it abruptly ceased like a lie.

 The few letters that did come from them were simply apologies stating that they had to cancel their invitation due to unforeseen circumstances for parties or other social events they were supposed to attend. They claimed it was due to some urgent matter, but it was an obvious excuse.

 It worried Britia how this might affect Lockhart’s territory or any other business-related matters. The family with the closest relationship with Robley controlled the route through which Lockhart’s main sources of income – grain and wine – must pass to be sold elsewhere.

 Crave assured her not to worry as he would find another way before things got out of hand. But still, she couldn’t help feeling uneasy about all this.

 Did she really think the Duchess would apologize innocently in such a situation? Could anyone believe that?

 She just didn’t want to talk about Lockhart’s difficult situation in front of Harty.

 “I can’t believe you believed those words!”

 But when Harty chuckled and laughed mockingly at her, Britia felt like her lies were pointless after all.

 “If she harbors resentment towards Lockhart and torments him then yes, he is being tormented indeed! Ah, poor Lockhart! Just when he finally paid off his debts and could catch his breath, now he is isolated in the south!”

 Harty poked at Britia’s sensitive spot as if raising an eyebrow. As if thinking about Robley alone wasn’t enough to weigh heavily on her heart, he shook her even more.

 “If you want to continue living peacefully in the south, it would be better for you to go and appease the Duchess.”

 When going out, don’t go anywhere else but visit her instead. Harty gave his unsolicited advice.

 “Of course, you’ll probably have your pride trampled upon. That strong-willed woman will never accept it!”

 Harty chuckled and sneered as Britia glanced at him.

 “Well, Lockhart is doomed to accept the disaster called Lady Robley.”

 Now she cursed. Britia wanted to leave the reception room in anger at him, who found others’ misfortune amusing. Whether he occupied the reception room or not.

 “Lord Slanford.”

 Britia called his name with a long sigh.

 “You didn’t come here because you wanted to mock Lockhart’s misfortune, did you?”

 Devon was Lockhart’s biggest benefactor. He lent the largest sum of money and had been waiting for him the longest, believing that young Earl Lockheart would definitely repay it.

 Even if Marquis Harty Slanford gets annoyed by it, Britia couldn’t tolerate treating such a person poorly in the drawing room or taking them somewhere else instead.

 “Do you want me to prevent Duke Turas from attending the play?”

 Seeing how furiously Harty glared at her like he could kill her right there in the cafe while refusing immediately as ordered, Britia expected this reaction.

 “Is that not what you want?”

 Then Harty burst into laughter but stopped abruptly when he saw Britia laugh back at him.

 “Now we can finally communicate.”

 He fixed his slightly disheveled appearance from laughing and looked directly at Britia.

 As expected, it was exactly what Britia anticipated–the requested condition did not deviate one bit from her expectations.

“So… You don’t want me to meet with Duke-nim?”

 “Do you not mind if there is suddenly an out-of-place pebble next to a perfect artwork?”

 “Are you calling me a pebble?”

 Britia was dumbfounded, but Harty was too engrossed in her own thoughts and didn’t listen to her words.

 “I mean, if someone like you suddenly appears next to Sig Turas while he’s watching a serious play, it would be disturbing!”

 “I understand Marquis-nim’s intention.”

 Britia sighed and nodded her head as she opened her eyes wide.

 “I will convey your message to Turas-nim.”

 “Just tell him that you can’t go. Don’t meet him in person. Write it in a letter instead.”

 He set conditions suspiciously, wondering if he was trying to meet Sig using that excuse. Otherwise, he had the face of saying that he would stay here.

 “Okay. I will go to my room and write the letter in front of Marquis-nim. Is that fine?”

 As Britia raised both hands in resignation and spoke, Harty smiled slightly with satisfaction. 

 Finally, he lifted his heavy buttocks with a content expression.

 “Fine. I don’t want to go into your room or anything like that, but I’ll bear with it for now.”

 “I never had any intention of letting Marquis into my room either.”

 “What?”

 When Harty quickly turned around, Britia shook her head as if it was nothing. Rather than that, she waited for him to leave the drawing room soon enough. However, he just stood still at the door without leaving.

 “What are you doing? Open the door.”

 Britia’s frustration reached its boiling point at his commanding presence. Nevertheless, she suppressed her urge to say something and obediently opened the door as he instructed.

 “Miss.”

 As she opened the door, there was a servant with an anxious expression.

 “I apologize for being late.”

 Britia quickly ordered him to clean up the messy table. Fortunately, it seemed that all they had to do was tidy up some dishes instead of dealing with spills or anything like that.

 “To receive guests in such a rush. Lockhart must not be prepared for hospitality.”

 “It’s because of ‘SOMEONE GREAT’ that I didn’t have time to prepare.”

 He knew who she was talking about. He probably knew everything already.

 Britia glanced at him and turned around the corner of the corridor. And there, in front of the entrance hall, she noticed Crave holding a vase and making some casual remarks about how he bought this vase from a market but suspects that it may be fake.

 Her efforts were aimed at buying time until she successfully brought Harty out of the reception room.

“Mr. Devon.” 

To give them enough time to neatly clean up the reception room, Britia approached them with a bright smile. Luckily, Mr. Devan responded by giving her a slight smile back and attempting to greet her warmly.

 “Mr. Devon, nice to meet you here!”

 However, his eyes narrowed when he saw Harty next to her. Although he accepted her handshake first, he had a very puzzled expression on his face as to why Harty was there.

  “Are you here to meet Earl Lockhart? I came to meet Ms. Britia. I have something to ask for.”

 Harty said with a smile.

 It’s not a request but more like a threat.

 Britia wanted to correct him but held back.

 “Do you mean that you have something to ask of Ms. Britia?”

 “Oh, it means you don’t know. I begged even though she wouldn’t listen.”

 At the mention of begging, Mr. Devon looked at Britia with slightly wider eyes.

 ‘What is this man talking about? When did he beg?’

 When Harty gave an unjust look and smiled at Mr. Devon before greeting him and suggesting that he should see Lord Lockhart later on, he turned away.

 “I wondered why they couldn’t provide me with a reception room for their visitors so easily. Well then, if Lockhart was the man who owed the most money it makes sense.”

 Once they arrived in Britia’s room, Harty who had been smiling kindly in front of Mr. Devon suddenly made an unpleasant face and grumbled softly.

 “How do you know where we owe the most money?”

“It’s a famous story. Having borrowed an enormous amount from Mr. Devon, Lockhart could never repay it. There was once a bet going around as to when he would end up dead by his hands.” 

 “…I shouldn’t have asked.”

 Britia wore an annoyed expression and walked into her room standing in front of the desk

 “By the way, you’re quite messy. I don’t want to stay longer so hurry up.”

 He gestured towards scattered clothes on the couch. Britia silently looked at him and slightly raised the corner of her mouth.

 “What? Why are you smiling?”

 Harty furrowed his brows and asked sharply, but Britia just raised the corner of her mouth a bit higher without saying anything.

 “What do you want to do? Why do you keep smiling silently and making me feel bad? You should write a letter to Mr. Devon quickly as he said.”

 Britia picked up a pen according to his intention and wrote like this.

 [Duke Turas, I’m really looking forward to watching the play with you. Even if some great disaster happens, I definitely want to go.]

And she held up the paper for Harty to see and smiled softly.

 “Marquis-nim… Did you really believe what I said? Surprisingly naive.”