To My First Love, With Regret - 55

Tonight, two more seats were added to the Kentrell table.

Eve watched Major Thomas Holbrook as he sat beside Dr. Kallas. The naval officer she remembered as Becky’s fiancé had also moved into the officer’s quarters at White Cliff Hall today. The butler likely had no idea Eve and this man shared a history; nor did Eve know that Tom was still connected to Ethan—at least not until Ethan had brazenly requested an invitation for him as well.

The gold band on Major Holbrook’s left ring finger showed the wear of time. It meant many years had passed since his wedding.

He must have married Becky. I wonder if Becky has grown to hate me, just like her brother?

Once, the four of them were one. They had shared the clumsy, reckless adventures of a summer long ago. But Eve alone had been cast out, becoming a stranger.

Focus returned to Eve’s eyes only when her gaze met Major Holbrook’s. He was visibly unsettled, unsure of what she was thinking as she watched him. Eve kept the reason to herself: In this room, you are the only person whose presence doesn’t make my blood boil.

To her right, a hand swirling a wine glass kept scratching at the corner of her vision. Sitting diagonally from Holbrook and separated from Eve by only a single corner of the table, he was the person she least wanted to see.

—Shall we swap the guest of honor’s seat, My Lady?

The butler had asked her before dinner. As the guest of honor, Ethan was meant to sit in the seat of prestige near Eve’s right, but the butler had offered to switch him with Holbrook for her comfort.

—Follow protocol, Eve had refused. She could already see Ethan’s smirk if he realized she was denying him the seat out of spite. Besides, with Tom across from her, Tony and Ethan would have sat closer together, flaunting that bizarre bond she loathed to witness.

I hate seeing him in any capacity.

It grated on her nerves to see him openly watching the butler place the first course on his plate.

—It’s no exaggeration to say I’ve been coming in and out of White Cliff Hall since the day I was born, Ethan remarked loudly enough for everyone to hear. But after a lifetime of using the back door, this is the first time I’ve been invited as the guest of honor to sit at the master’s table.

He leaned toward Eve, thrusting his face closer.

—Why? Is my rustic confession making you feel embarrassed for me?

Eve stared at the man acting so vulgarly, then slowly curled her lips into a smile.

—I’m embarrassed by everything you do, so don’t waste your time worrying about that.

Ethan’s provocative smirk flickered for a moment. He retreated with a hollow laugh, trying to mask the sting.

—Well, at least I don’t have to worry about the Lady getting indigestion because of me. You must be well-trained in dining with embarrassing people by now.

He shot a pointed glance at Dr. Kallas and Chantal, implying they were the embarrassing ones.

—Excluding the true Sherwood here, it seems everyone else comes from a background of servants. To think a noble table has more commoners than aristocrats.

While it wasn’t due to their status—as he crudely suggested—it was true that sitting at the same table as the thieves who had invaded her home was an ordeal. Even so, she endured it, because without her, no one would teach her son table manners.

—Tony.

Eve gave a low warning to the boy who reached for his fork before she, the hostess, had even begun. Tony pleaded with his eyes, wanting to eat because he was hungry. Eve paused with her utensils, but not because she intended to punish the mischievous child.

—Major, she is not a Sherwood.

She was simply startled by Dr. Kallas, who had been silent until now, cautiously contradicting Ethan. Ethan stared at the doctor as if he couldn’t believe a lapdog had dared bark at him.

—Then what is she? Ethan asked.

—As of yesterday, Lady Evelyn is a Kallas.

In that instant, everyone’s expression mirrored Ethan’s. Dr. Kallas had merely corrected a fact, but it wasn’t the truth. Having tossed a lit match onto the table, the doctor glanced at the ticking time bomb sitting next to Ethan and hurriedly dropped his gaze to his plate to change the subject.

—What kind of unit do you command in the Air Force?

Ethan took a sip of red wine, swirling it in his mouth as if he were chewing on the doctor’s blood, glaring at him before spitting out the answer.

—The 521st Troop Carrier Squadron of the Transport Command.

When he explained that he was a commander responsible for thirteen transport planes, three hundred troops, and the success of supply missions, Chantal openly looked bored, busily working her fork.

—Once, I had to extract one of our intelligence agents from a forest in Constance, Ethan began. But this fellow didn’t show up at the rendezvous time.

Despite her initial boredom, even Chantal soon set down her silverware to listen to the boring transport commander’s tale.

—I couldn’t exactly loiter in the middle of enemy territory, so I had to leave. But I knew exactly what the prickly Director of Intelligence would say if I returned without the guest. So, just as I decided to wait ten more minutes, the guest emerged from the trees.

—It’s the enemy!

When Tony shouted, Ethan nodded.

—Ten of them.

—Whoa….

—They approached us with rifles leveled, shouting, ‘Drop your weapons and get out!’ They planned to take us prisoner and seize my transport plane.

—No way….

—But the few pistols we had were nowhere near enough. Luckily, I’ve got quite a bit of luck. It just so happened the supplies we were carrying that day were weapons. By the time they tightened the perimeter, we were already armed to the teeth with grenades and rifles.

As Ethan vividly described the tense firefight with the enemy, Eve’s brow furrowed deeper and deeper.

—Tony.

At Eve’s call, the boy snapped his mouth shut. To Tony, it was merely an exciting heroic play, but to Eve, the death he had faced felt visible before her eyes, making it impossible for her to smile.

—…We wiped them all out and took off immediately. If we’d stayed any longer, a hundred more would have swarmed us. And just then, our agent—that little rat—came sprinting out of the woods and rolled through the open rear door.

—Wow… it’s like a movie.

—When we got back, the fuselage was a honeycomb of bullet holes. No wonder it felt so breezy.

Ethan dismissed the near-death experience as a minor scuffle and cast a glance at Eve.

—Was that story too rough for Miss Sherwood’s taste?

Eve, bringing her wine glass to her lips, faltered.

…Miss Sherwood?

He was a man who had never once called her that until now.

Ah, it’s because of Dr. Kallas.

Because the doctor called her Kallas, Ethan was stubbornly insisting she was still a Sherwood. Eve wore a faint, mocking smile instead of drinking her wine. Why didn’t he call her Mrs. Fairchild? Yesterday, he had boldly claimed she was still his wife.

He refused to acknowledge her as Evelyn Kallas, yet he didn’t want to think of her as a Fairchild either. He didn’t want her, but he didn’t want anyone else to have her. It was disgusting and utterly childish.

—You’re interested in big, ugly-looking planes, aren’t you?

When was I ever interested in flying chunks of iron…

—I’ll give you a special ride in my cockpit again.

—Whoa, Eve is so lucky!

Tony was too young to understand. He didn’t realize this great soldier had just harassed Eve by telling her to sit on his lap—or rather, his lap’s controls.

‘I’ll pass. There are plenty of things to ride that are bigger and run better than you.’

She wanted to snap back, but she feared Tony might one day understand the subtext of this conversation. Just as she was glaring at Ethan with eyes full of ice-cold fury, an unexpected warmth covered the back of her hand. It was Dr. Kallas.

What on earth is he thinking, grabbing my hand? Especially right in front of Chantal.

While various questions tangled confusedly in Eve’s mind, the doctor spoke to Ethan, his voice trembling slightly as if he had gathered every ounce of courage he possessed.

—My Lady has no interest in dangerous games.

Playing the husband, then. Eve was briefly surprised, but she soon realized his intent.

In front of people who don’t know this marriage is a sham, it is only right to act like a couple. A husband shouldn’t just stand by while his wife is being harassed. It was still surprising that this man was capable of such a thought.

Then I suppose I must be a faithful co-star in this play.

Eve turned toward Dr. Kallas and gave him the most beautiful smile she possessed.

—Thank you, Doctor.

She squeezed back the hand that was still clutching hers. The only reason she could bear the sickening sensation of his damp, sweaty skin was the sheer pleasure of seeing the crack that appeared on Ethan Fairchild’s face.

Asure: Hello, good morning… I’m just stopping by to wish you a Merry Christmas… I hope you have a wonderful time. Also, I wanted to do one last contest of the year with this novel: if I see reactions and comments (at least 10) on each chapter from today until the 29th… you’ll get 5 extra chapters. Enjoy and have a great day!