**Chapter 6: Contract Conditions (1)** Collins Estate. The early morning light spilled into Edgar’s study as the butler, Alfred, entered with a tray delicately balanced in his hands. “Young master, I have brought your breakfast,” he announced. The thrill of the morning ritual seemed misplaced, however, for Edgar was not at his usual post behind the desk. Instead, he lingered by the window, eyes fixed on the horizon as though he were awaiting a storm. Alfred placed the tray meticulously upon the desk, arranging the items with his usual diligence, then turned to his master, keen to offer any further service. Yet, Edgar appeared lost in his own thoughts, oblivious to the world around him. “Young master,” Alfred called again, voice laced with concern. “Good morning, Alfred,” Edgar responded, breaking his reverie and glancing back at the butler, his expression betraying a mixture of gratitude and distraction. “Thank you for breakfast.” “Are you anticipating guests today? Should I prepare additional meals or perhaps some drinks?” Alfred ventured, guessing that Edgar's vigil was for someone special. Edgar frowned, his gaze returning to the entrance of his home. “I cannot say for certain. I’ve sent her an invitation, but whether she chooses to come is another matter entirely. She tends to avoid such engagements unless absolutely necessary.” The thought of the woman intrigued him—especially because she had no penchant for public appearances. Alessandra’s potential visit stirred a mix of anticipation and uncertainty within him. “A woman, in broad daylight?” Alfred echoed, a note of surprise edging into his tone. With a sigh, Edgar turned to Alfred, his brow furrowed in disbelief. “What do you imply, Alfred? Are you insinuating I’m some sort of rogue?” “Yes,” Alfred replied matter-of-factly, bowing slightly. Edgar could hardly believe Alfred’s candidness. He would have dismissed anyone else without a second thought; yet, Alfred had always been more than a servant—he was a trusted confidant, a father figure of sorts. “I am not, and I would appreciate it if you refrained from such vulgar insinuations. The guest I may receive could very well become the mistress of this house.” Alfred’s reaction was nothing short of theatrical as he clutched the desk for support. “W-What?” he spluttered, eyes wide with shock. “Do you find it so unbelievable that I might take a wife?” Edgar retorted, his patience thinning. Letting out a breath, Alfred composed himself, realizing he had to seek clarity. “But your exact words to the king were—how should I put it?—‘I’d rather leap from the roof than marry.’ Perhaps I misunderstood your expression. My apologies.” “Alfred, I fear I may have inherited this propensity for drama from you,” Edgar mused, an ironic smile tugging at his lips. “I am not seeking marriage, but the woman I encountered last night intrigued me. It could serve as a splendid means to irritate the king and distance myself from several acquaintances.” “I don’t quite grasp how her presence accomplishes that,” Alfred remarked, shaking his head. “It’ll become clear if she arrives today. Should a Barrett come to visit, admit her. But not the father,” Edgar added, distaste dripping from his words as he mentioned the baron. “Barrett? You mean Kate?” Alfred whispered, apprehensive. She was not the type he envisioned for Edgar, nor did he see the charm in her. “Did you indulge in too much drink at that soirée, Edgar?” “Not at all—I merely enjoyed a fleeting moment of relaxation,” Edgar replied, stepping away from the window to examine the breakfast tray. “Relaxation? I’ll need to check all your cigars,” Alfred declared, bowing deeply as though he were about to spring into action. “What on earth for?” Edgar asked, bemused. “If you find Kate Barrett intriguing—” Edgar cut him off, a sharp edge to his voice. “Have you lost your mind? The baron has another daughter! Alessandra Barrett is the elder.” Alfred’s relief was palpable as he placed a hand dramatically on his heart. “Thank goodness,” he sighed, eyes again widening in unease. “You are aware of the rumors about her, correct? I would hardly call myself relieved yet.” “Anyone is a better match than Kate in my eyes,” Alfred insisted with vigor. “If the younger Barrett were to get wed to you, I swear I could finally retire after these long forty years. Truth be told, we cannot even be sure Alessandra will arrive. When was the last time you—” Suddenly, a firm knock at the door jolted them from their conversation. With a slight bow, Alfred excused himself, curiosity dancing across his features. As he opened the door, a maid, her demeanor anxious, handed him a folded piece of paper before promptly continuing on her way. Alfred closed the door and unfolded the note, eyes scanning its contents with growing excitement. “It appears we have a surprise in store—Alessandra Barrett desires to meet with you.” Edgar’s heart flickered with a mix of surprise and intrigue at the news, hope sparking within him. “Invite her to my study at once.” “Yes, young master,” Alfred replied, bowing again before hastening to fulfill the command, a newfound energy in his step. “Do stop with the excessive bowing, Alfred. You’re not a priest,” Edgar chuckled as Alfred disappeared down the corridor. “Alessandra Barrett, how intriguing you have become.” His mind raced. Could it be just a coincidence that she chose today, right after his conversation with the baron? Was her arrival truly independent of her father’s influence? Edgar found himself grappling with uncertainty yet simultaneously drawn to the prospect of her visit. Meanwhile, Alessandra disembarked from the carriage her father had sent for her. The coachman had been discreetly warned by Mario not to utter a word to the baron regarding her excursion today. Should he waver, Alessandra was more than willing to embrace any whisper of scandal that could threaten his loyalty. “This is impressive,” Alessandra breathed as her gaze swept across the grandeur of the Duke’s estate. No wonder he was considered such an enticing match—his wealth was evident in every detail. As soldiers clad in armor strode past her, she greeted them with a polite smile. “Good morning,” they replied, their voices a chorus of respect. She noted their composure, reflecting that at least the guards here bore no fear concerning the unfounded whispers of rumors. In moments, the grand doors to Edgar’s residence swung open, revealing Alfred’s familiar presence in his butler's attire. “Welcome, Alessandra Barrett. The Duke is expecting you,” Alfred greeted, his face impeccably neutral regarding her masked figure. He made a silent note to remind the other staff of the same courtesy. “Good morning. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Alessandra responded graciously, extending her hand to Alfred in a gesture that spoke louder than words. With joy, he accepted her hand, taken aback by her familiar warmth. Many of Edgar’s guests went out of their way to avoid such courtesies, but here was a young woman who extended her hand without hesitation. “Please, follow me,” he instructed, leading her into the heart of the estate. As she crossed the threshold into the Duke’s domain, Alessandra felt her lungs constrict momentarily, the opulence around her nearly taking her breath away. Edgar appeared to be an avid collector of artworks—masterpieces she could only dream of acquiring. The walls, adorned in delicate shades of white, gleamed under the natural light, framing the many illustrious paintings that seemed to tell their own stories. Caught in awe, Alessandra admired her surroundings until she caught herself lost in reverie, shaking her head to refocus on the butler in front of her. “Forgive me, I realized I hadn’t asked your name,” she said, a hint of embarrassment creeping into her tone. “Alfred,” he replied, a smile gracing his features. “Pleasure to meet you, Alfred,” she returned, her smile genuine. “He’s in here,” Alfred said, knocking lightly on the door leading to Edgar’s study before ushering her forward. Uncertainty washed over him—how had Edgar and Alessandra reached this point of contemplating marriage? Yet, he found himself warming to the young woman as he placed trust in her intentions. “Thank you,” Alessandra said, stepping inside, her heart almost racing as the door clicked shut behind her, sealing her fate within these walls. Edgar, seated at his desk, regarded her with a mix of surprise and scrutiny. “I wasn’t expecting you to show up, but your breakfast timing certainly catches me off guard,” he remarked, intrigue dancing in his voice. Alessandra frowned, an impulsive reply slipping past her lips. “Was I to sneak in under the cover of night like a thief?” In that tantalizing moment, an unspoken challenge sparked between them, setting the stage for a dance neither had anticipated.