Chapter 2410 - 320: The True Leader (Part 2)

He dared not think.

He dared not think anymore.

Laughter erupted in the room again, louder than before.

Adelaide was probably saying something witty, Selina agreeing, Sofia pretending to be angry, and Mother laughing, smoothing things over.

Flora didn’t speak, but he could imagine her, head down, face flushed, a smile at the corner of her mouth, pretending to be angry yet unable to hide her happiness.

The Marquis of Hastings gripped the door handle tightly.

He couldn’t open this door.

Couldn’t.

Just let them laugh, let the laughter last a little longer. Let him stand a while longer, listen a while more, more...

Squeak.

The door opened.

Arthur stood at the doorway.

He held a pipe in his hand, as if he was about to come out.

He saw the dust-covered Marquis of Hastings, slightly startled, but only for a moment.

Then, he asked nothing, instead he shifted slightly and pointed to the door at the end of the corridor.

"Smoking room?" he said.

The Marquis of Hastings looked at him, looked at this man, this man who climbed from the streets, this man Flora waited for over thirteen years.

His face showed no expression, but his eyes concealed a force that was irresistible, a demeanor identical to his father’s.

The Marquis nodded, and the two of them walked towards the smoking room, one after the other.

Perhaps because the manor lacked male members and seldom hosted male guests, the smoking room was very small, with only two chairs, a coffee table, and two rows of bookshelves. The fireplace had just been lit, not yet bright, crackling, carrying a hint of dampness.

Arthur sat in the chair by the window, placed a tin box containing tobacco on the coffee table.

The Marquis of Hastings sat opposite, looked at the tin box, said nothing.

Seeing he had no intention of reaching for tobacco, Arthur poured some for himself, pressed it down, and lit it.

Smoke rose between them, then dispersed by the wind sneaking through the window gaps.

He took a puff and slowly exhaled: "Adelaide is a good girl."

The Marquis of Hastings was slightly taken aback.

"Twenty-six, yet still like a child," Arthur continued, "Selina is a bit sharper, and Sofia, she’s more mature than the two of them."

His finger tapped the pipe, paused: "But they all care a lot about Flora."

The Marquis of Hastings pressed his lips: "You’re talking quite a lot today, that’s a bit unlike you, Arthur."

"Talking a lot?" Arthur’s mouth slightly curled into a smile, "Perhaps it’s because everyone here is kind, when people are happy, words naturally flow."

"I...perhaps I know why Flora likes you." The Marquis of Hastings looked at him in silence for a while, suddenly spoke: "You’re a bit like my father. In his later years, he also liked sitting in the study, slowly smoking like you."

Arthur’s hand paused: "Really?"

"In London..." The Marquis of Hastings lowered his head, looked at his hands: "They issued an order."

Arthur said nothing, just took another puff.

"Compulsory medical examination." The Marquis of Hastings seemed to muster great courage: "Sir James Clark, and another doctor, they want to..."

But at this point, he couldn’t continue.

Arthur looked at him: "What do they want to examine?"

The Marquis of Hastings raised his head, looking into Arthur’s eyes. Those eyes were so calm, calm like a bottomless well.

"Arthur, I don’t know how to tell you." The Marquis of Hastings lowered his head, rubbed his hair: "Pregnancy, they want to check whether Flora is pregnant."

When those words stumbled from his mouth, he felt as if his throat was on fire.

Arthur’s hand paused slightly, just a pause, very short, almost imperceptible.

He overturned the pipe into the ashtray: "Who issued the order?"

The Marquis of Hastings was silent for a moment: "Her Majesty the Queen."

The smoking room quieted down.

The fireplace crackled.

Outside the window, the sunset had faded, leaving only a dull gray sky.

Arthur sat there, motionless.

For a long time.

Long enough for the Marquis of Hastings to think he wouldn’t speak.

Then, he spoke: "What do you think?"

The Marquis of Hastings was slightly stunned: "Me?"

Arthur looked at him: "Of course, George, you’re her brother, what do you think?"

The Marquis of Hastings gripped the armrest: "Me?"

He opened his mouth, then stopped.

What did he think?

He wanted to tear the one who issued the order to shreds, he wanted to storm into Buckingham Palace, throw the decree in the Queen’s face.

He wanted to tell the world his sister was innocent, she was just unlucky, born in this damned era, this damned class, embroiled in this damned court struggle.

But he couldn’t.

Because those weren’t solutions to the problem.

He knew, if not examined, those rumors would never disappear.

Flora would carry the reputation of "unwed pregnant" for life, everywhere she’d go, people would point fingers.

But if examined...

Although the Marquis of Hastings didn’t understand medicine, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t consult gynecologists.

In this era, so-called pregnancy examinations were far from civilized as in later times, nor professional machines available. Thus, the examination process for those ladies was nothing less than public humiliation.

Especially considering Flora’s current unwed status, undergoing examination meant losing her maidenhood, rendering her unpursuable, unmarriageable thereafter.