Chapter 55

“What should we do, then?”

“Fortunately, there appear to be valuables worth our while,” Isaac murmured, leaning in. “I have heard that the countess, who hailed from the illustrious Somerset family, left behind a vast hoard of jewels.”

“The countess’s jewels?” Dwight frowned, his brow furrowing. “Are those not precious keepsakes? They are highly unlikely to surrender them willingly.”

“But, young master,” Isaac urged, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “We cannot possibly journey all this way only to return empty-handed.”

The justification in Isaac’s rhetoric had shifted entirely; no longer was it a matter of “reclaiming what is rightfully yours,” but rather the raw, naked reality of stealing another man’s property. Dwight hesitated, a brief tremor of doubt passing through him. Yet, he had already severed ties with his family and ventured this far into the wilderness. There was no turning back now.

The dilemma lay in how to smuggle the jewels out undetected.

The count’s eldest son—that foolish Omega—kept dragging them through useless corners of the estate like the dusty study and the drafty greenhouse, while carefully barring their entry to the one room that mattered: the late countess’s bedchamber.

Just as Dwight’s irritation threatened to boil over, a stroke of fortune emerged from their misfortune: Selena had managed to ingratiate herself with the count’s young daughter.

“Selena,” Dwight called out, summoning her into the midnight shadows of the garden. “There is something of grave importance you must do for me.”

Knowing this was far too delicate a matter to discuss in the presence of others, he broached the subject with quiet urgency. Selena, however, merely crossed her arms, her expression prim and cold.

“You broke your promise, Lord Dwight,” she replied sharply. “Why on earth should I do anything for you now?”

“What are you babbling about?”

“The cards. You swore on your honor that you would never touch card games again. Why did you break your word? I threw away everything and came here relying solely on you.”

What troublesome, naive nonsense, Dwight thought, utterly dumbfounded by her petulance. For the moment, however, he knew he had to placate her. Smoothing his features, he forced his voice into the gentlest cadence he could muster.

“As you know, being cooped up in this dreary mausoleum of a house made it practically unavoidable. But that is trivial right now. There is an vital task that only you can execute. Our entire future hangs in the balance.”

Selena’s gaze flickered. “…What is it?”

Hearing the severe gravity in his tone, her resolve softened once more. Dwight stepped closer, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered, “You have grown close to the young lady of this house, have you not? Find a way to slip into the countess’s bedchamber. I have reliable word that a massive jewel is hidden somewhere within. Ascertain its exact location. Unless the servants here are mere scarecrows, we cannot ransack the room looking for it; if it comes to it, we must quietly seize only that.”

“What? Why would you possibly need such a jewel…?”

“Where else in this godforsaken house do you expect us to wring money from?” Dwight snapped, his veneer cracking.

Selena had already sensed something amiss when Dwight told her, as a mere formality, that he had been chosen as the heir and required her to masquerade as a highborn lady for procedural reasons. Now, the stark truth stared her in the face. She realized, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she was being pulled into something wretched.

“Lord Dwight,” she whispered, horror dawning in her eyes. “Surely you do not intend to commit theft?”

“Theft? What outrageous slander!” Dwight scoffed shamelessly. “The Graymont family is destined to inherit this entire earldom, and I am a true son of the Graymont line. Does that not mean everything under this roof is essentially mine to begin with?”

Selena was rendered utterly speechless by his brazenness. Whatever dissatisfaction festered within her, she did not move with the swiftness Dwight expected. Though she managed to cross the threshold of the countess’s room, she spun a continuous web of excuses, refusing to disclose where the gems were hidden.

Then came the turning point.

“I shall return in the carriage with Sir Elwin,” she announced coldly.

The fragile bond between Selena and Dwight fractured irrevocably after the tea party at the Finch residence. Her pride had evidently been stung by the local gentlewomen, who had watched her with cold suspicion while simpering over Dwight. From that day forth, Selena grew visibly sullen, turning into a tiresome weight.

That woman is useless, Dwight resolved, dismissing her in his mind. She has nothing but a passably pretty face. She possesses no dignity, and her tongue wags far too much.

When she finally had the audacity to disrupt his crucial schedule—specifically, scouting the shortcut to the train station—Dwight lost all interest in her. Had Isaac not urgently argued that they could not afford to depart empty-handed, Dwight might have abandoned her then and there and fled straight to the capital.

Amid this wheel of irritating setbacks, the social gathering at the Finch house remained Dwight’s sole source of gratification. Though he had once disdained such affairs as tedious, he found himself reveling in the way the local gentry fawned over him, addressing him deferentially as “the count.”

The authority of a count is magnificent indeed, he mused. Not that I can truly ascend to the title… Or can I?

If Dwight could somehow install himself as the true master of this grand estate, his life would be infinitely more splendid than if he merely ran off to the capital with a handful of stolen jewels. By contrast, the count’s eldest son, despite being born to luxury, was a pathetic creature who spent his days squandering his wealth on common servants and tenant farmers. Dwight knew he would never commit such folly if the title were his.

Well, even if he is the firstborn, he is only an Omega. He is powerless. An Omega eldest son…

The seed of an idea began to germinate in Dwight’s mind, though for the longest time, he had regarded Elwin as nothing more than a frustrating obstacle. The realization of how useful the count’s eldest son could actually be did not strike him until much later.

It occurred during the evening gala at the Finch estate. Dwight was immersed in a lively hand of cards when Elwin quietly approached him.

— “Mr. Dwight, would you care to take a stroll in the garden with me?”

It was a blatant overture, clear to anyone with eyes.

Dwight sat frozen, momentarily stunned.

Despite Elwin’s desperate overtures up to that point, Dwight had been entirely blind to the fact that the Omega was trying to court him. He had certainly noted that Elwin possessed an extraordinarily beautiful face, but he had never considered a man—even an Omega—as a viable romantic prospect.

He had simply never bothered to observe those around him.

“My, my,” one of the gentlemen at the table chuckled, leaning closer. “His intentions are written plain across his face. One must admire the sheer desperation.”

“He is undoubtedly plotting to catch Lord Dwight’s eye to secure his place on the estate,” another whispered, snickering. “The lad must think such antics will make him a countess.”

The townspeople, far sharper than Dwight in reading social cues, had long since seen through Elwin’s maneuvers. Amid the mocking laughter of the men around the card table, Dwight offered a strained, polite smile while his mind raced with newfound calculations.

I see. If we marry, Sir Elwin secures a connection to a baron’s lineage, which perfectly suits his needs, and I can step forward as the legitimate heir without ever bowing to my brother. Even if he is the firstborn, it is only proper that the eldest son’s husband inherit the estate, rather than letting it fall to someone entirely outside the count’s bloodline.

Dwight swelled with the intoxicating hope of becoming a true count. The morning after the party, he cornered Selena, ruthlessly telling her that he intended to wed the count’s eldest son and settle down here, meaning she would have to fend for herself. He then immediately began projecting an air of silent, patronizing acceptance toward Elwin.

— “I already know your heart, and generous as I am, I will gladly accept you.”

Yet, once again, reality refused to bend to Dwight’s whims.

What? What is the meaning of this…?

As if mockingly playing with him, the dazed Omega of the estate, despite having wagged his tail first, began to retreat the moment Dwight showed signs of reciprocating. Dwight’s patience wore thin. Having cast Selena aside, he had lost his only key to finding the countess’s jewels. If he delayed any longer, his elder brother overseas would catch wind of his antics. Before his brother could set foot in Ravenwell, Dwight had to claim the count’s eldest son by any means necessary.

This is for the best, both for me and for him. He ought to be weeping with gratitude that I am throwing him this lifeline.

Dwight maintained this shameless conviction even as he forced his way into Elwin’s private chambers, armed with the potent aphrodisiac Isaac had hastily procured. The one who had fought back with such desperate, wild strength was the true fool. As for Leon—that lowborn piece of trash who dared intrude upon a gentleman’s bedroom affairs—words could scarcely express Dwight’s hatred.

“That miserable, insolent bastard…!” Dwight hissed, his voice trembling as he nursed his bruised limbs. “Just you wait. Do they truly think I will let this slide?”

Covered in painful contusions and panting with a lingering, drug-induced heat, Dwight spat out his venom. In the end, only his faithful shadow, Isaac, remained by his side.

As always, Isaac possessed far more cunning than his master. On the morning of their final day in Ravenwell, Isaac wore a dark, scheming grin as he proposed a desperate bid for survival.

“What do you think, young master?”

“Hmm,” Dwight murmured, his eyes narrowing. “If we proceed with that… yes. We shall execute it today.”

Though nothing had gone according to plan since their arrival in Ravenwell, this final gambit succeeded flawlessly. Of course, even Isaac, who had meticulously engineered the plot, could never have anticipated that Dwight would ruthlessly abandon him at the final hour.

Yes. There is no turning back now. I succeeded, and that is all that matters.

Small sacrifices were inevitable on the path to greatness. Lowborn wretches like Isaac and Selena were never meant to be anything more than stepping stones in his grand ascension.

As the blood-red sunset bled into the horizon, Dwight took a deep, centering breath and reached into the inner pocket of his jacket. His fingers brushed against the smooth parchment and heavy metal he had plundered from the estate. If he liquidated these in the sprawling capital, he could live in absolute luxury for years.

The prospect of a lavish life free of naggers and meddlers filled Dwight with a triumphant ecstasy that easily drowned out any lingering drops of guilt. Why should he trouble himself with a nobleman’s conscience? His own flesh and blood had never treated him as family anyway. The mere thought of how utterly devastated his insufferable father and brother would be upon discovering his deeds made Dwight’s chest swell with satisfaction.

As the train plunged into the gathering dark, a sinister, triumphant smile stretched across Dwight’s lips.

***