My Disfigured Duke Husband Helps Me Plot My Revenge
Chapter 89: For His Honor

Chapter 89: For His Honor

Leonor entered the tea house and was enveloped in a world she thought she had left behind when she married the duke.

It was all-encompassing as ladies’ perfume touched her nose and she remembered why she didn’t prefer overly floral scents. Her eyes didn’t stop at one spot because of the gilded metals on all the place’s walls, including wall sconces and picture frames. Like decorations, fine fabrics and well-dressed people were placed all over the expansive space.

As much as she was intimidated, she didn’t outwardly show it. Unlike in the orphanage, this was a predictable place. She was calculating because the equation was simple.

She decided it was best to cast her eyes downwards and give the impression of someone uninterested in others despite being there to take a temperature of the nobility. They would wonder who she was even further but she wouldn’t divulge right away.

The host walked forward, wearing a navy blue militaristic style suit jacket, though he clearly had never served in the military a day in his life. He had short blonde hair and brown eyes that twinkled as he gazed at Leonor. She wore a fine dress to catch the attention of those with a trained eye. With clothing, she wordlessly stated that she was important enough to give attention to.

Even behind his hospitality, Leonor could tell he was judging her when he greeted her with, "What can I do for you, my lady? I am Louis Fredriechson, the host of this establishment."

The tea house was full, he wanted to say. Only the best would get in and anyone else would be laughed at.

However, she walked forward and, in the small pouch at her waist, she pulled out Desmond’s seal. He gave it to her a few days before in case she needed to buy anything, though she assured him she most likely wouldn’t.

The host widened his eyes at her but he was met with a slight frown from her.

"I want to have a quiet afternoon," Leonor said. "Could I sit under one of the umbrellas outside?"

She found the perfume nauseating and would rather be surrounded by plants that smelled that way naturally.

There were a few sets of doors that were open to the outside. It let in a nice breeze and made those sitting outside feel like they were still a part of those indoors. Large parcels were set on a wooden deck and white tables covered in cloth with tea sets ready to serve upper-class guests.

"Of course, your grace," he said. "It would be a pleasure to serve you."

His voice was quiet as he kept her secret. He wouldn’t tell the others who she was, just that she was enough to command the room. His discretion was important in a place like that.

Soon, Leonor and her maid were guided towards a seat at the corner of the deck where she wouldn’t be bothered by others but could hear most of the conversations buzzing around the place. She couldn’t have picked a better spot herself.

Leonor and her maid enjoyed themselves as the finest tea in the house was brought outside. The dishes set out were exchanged for fresh ones still warm from washing. She felt like a princess as she was served knowing she wouldn’t return home and receive the opposite treatment.

The few times she experienced a setting like that with her sister, she only dreaded how her sister would embarrass her or what she would return to when she saw her father at the end of the day.

It was blissful knowing that what waited for her at home was a man who wasn’t harsh with her. Perhaps he wasn’t harsh enough either. Without meaning to, she walked all over his kindness by loving another.

She didn’t know how to apologize to him when she couldn’t be honest about any of her feelings.

It was best to distract herself so she wouldn’t have to think about it.

"Isn’t it wonderful?" Leonor asked her maid as they quietly drank tea together. "It doesn’t need honey. The flower isn’t overbearing."

"Yes, quite good, your grace," the maid agreed.

Leonor pointedly ignored the occasional passing glance she received.

Since her presence wasn’t announced, she wondered what they thought of her. Who was this woman receiving special treatment even though they didn’t know who she was?

She knew that there was a socialite somewhere who would be the stem of gossip. There was always one person like that amongst the nobles, but she didn’t know who it was there.

Her sister was becoming that in Burien and she was glad not to be subjected to such an environment. After all, she had more pull than a simple socialite because of the title she gained through marriage. It was interesting having pull she didn’t ask for or work for.

Leonor and her maid sat peacefully for quite a while, simply enjoying the high-quality tea brought to them and the tea treats given to them "on the house" according to the host who occasionally went to check on them. He made sure not to be excessive since Leonor asked for a quiet afternoon.

Just when she thought she could gather all she could from the tea house, she heard a voice that piqued her interest and she saw a pale woman with red hair sitting across the porch from her, two tables away. She was loud enough that it wasn’t hard to glean details from her conversation.

The woman waved a pale green fan in her face occasionally, giving the impression she was dying of heat despite the summers of Montclair being particularly mild.

At a disturbance in the street that interrupted her peaceful teatime, she began complaining.

"With such an untrained duke at the mantel, it’s no wonder Montclair is turning into such a classless place," she complained. "The streets are uglier... the people..."

Leonor felt her blood pressure rise and her heart start to race. Anger ripped through her and she nearly dropped the teacup she held, but she managed to put it down silently despite her rage.

"What was his majesty thinking?" another girl agreed, clearly the yes woman of the group who would agree with anything the ringleader said.

"And to claim a wife with no proper procedure," the red-haired woman continued. "Either she’s horrendous herself or he kidnapped her. There’s no other way."

Unfair. That’s all Leonor could describe it as.

People truly didn’t give him a chance because he was ugly the thought horrified her. She used to be one of those people. Perhaps she even sounded like that at one point.

Her sweet husband filled her thoughts. His cautious glances. The way he protected her and did everything she wanted him to without objection. He was a selfless man, but because of his appearance...

She couldn’t sit by while he was ripped to shreds. He wouldn’t defend himself so she was going to do it herself– appearances be damned.

Leonor watched Beth start to stand up, daring to face a noblewoman, but Leonor grabbed her maid’s hand and shook her head. If a commoner faced someone of higher status, she could easily get in trouble and, as her employer, she couldn’t let someone take the fall for her.

For the first time since Leonor arrived at the tea house, she decided it was time for her to speak up.

"Louis," she called, feigning familiarity with the man.

The blonde host came running over quickly and he was eager to help Leonor. However, his expression fell the moment the duchess started to speak.

"I would like to know what sort of establishment you would run that would allow such a girl as that to speak so lowly of my husband, the war hero who stopped the war in this country and made it possible for people like her to continue living in blissful ignorance of the real issues in this kingdom," Leonor snapped. "I believe it’s time for me to go."

She turned towards her maid.

"Beth," Leonor said, offering her arm to the maid who was around the same age as her.

Louis uttered an objection and tried to do anything he could to keep Leonor there, however, she had already linked her arm with her maid and stalked out of the tea house.

Unbeknownst to her, Desmond sat on a crate in one of the alleyways underneath the deck. He heard everything the noblewoman said and it hardly phased him because those were words he heard so often.

His arms were crossed and his head was angled downward. His first grin in a long time pulled at his lips and made the scarred side of his face ache from underuse. He couldn’t hold himself back.

If that was how she wanted to introduce herself as the duchess to the nobility, he wouldn’t complain.