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Obsessed with Regressors – CH003.1

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“My lady, a guest has arrived.”

Early afternoon, she was sitting in the room and stood up at Shirley’s words. She quickly came up to her and supported her.

“Are you feeling okay?”

She was fine. It’s a little bit of commotion, but her appetite was back and she could get up.

As soon as Otis German kidnapped her, or rather, returned home with the help of Burns, she collapsed. On the first day, the fever rose and she couldn’t come to her senses. On the second day, the fever went down a bit, but she lost her appetite and couldn’t eat anything. It was only last night that she was able to eat even thin soup, so it’s obvious that she didn’t look very good. She asked, trying not to look in her mirror as Shirley retouched her baggy dress.

“How is Ann?”

“Oh no, Ann has already brushed herself off. She ate two bowls this morning too.”

‘Thank God.’ A sigh of relief flowed out. They were lucky. That day, they told her, Anne, who had slipped out of the house’s study, ran towards the boulevard to call for help. They said she ran into Burns, who was riding his horse into the house.

“It must have been difficult. Because she ran home from there.”

She said that and turned her head and was shocked to see herself in the mirror. ‘Oh my gosh.’ She looked like a ghost. Even otherwise, the bloodless face was as pale as that of a dead man. Even though Shirley worked hard to decorate, she looked completely sick.

She let out a small sigh and lightly patted her cheek with the palm of her hand. Even if it wasn’t her intention, she showed an unsightly side to Burns, but she didn’t want to show a pitiful side.

“I mean.”

She heard that Burns asked Ann to ride his own horse, but she refused, saying she did not know how to ride. She only left her room when Shirley checked her back one more time and said she was done.

“Mr. Burns.”

Elliot Burns was sitting alone in the guest parlor. Perhaps because he was the benefactor who saved her, her mother gave them the best drawing room to talk.

“Noble Lady Biscon.”

As soon as Burns saw her, he got up and greeted her. Then he took her hand and kissed the back of it.

She was not a noble lady. She tried to teach him that the title was wrong. But Burns asked first.

“Are you okay?”

There it was again. In an instant, her memory went back to when he saved her. Burns came in after breaking down the door.

The reason he asked that was because when she checked the library, she saw Tetto stuck in a bookshelf and she blew.

“I’m sorry about that.”

She said with a sigh. Then Burns asked, raising one eyebrow.

“I should have apologized.”

“No, you helped me. Let me ask, why did you come?”

She thought it would be Oliver or Sir Escalee who would come to her aid. So she asked Burns, who went in her rescue that day, why he went to visit Biscon’s residence in the first place. But it was rude.

“No, that’s a question I shouldn’t have asked.”

She heard that too. The reason Burns was in front of that house then. She was going to say she was rude though. But then her mother walked into the parlor and said:

“Mr. Burns, welcome.”

Until then, Burns was holding her hand. As soon as she realized that, he naturally let go of her hand and bent over her mother.

“Thank you for allowing me to visit you, Countess of Viscon.”

Here mother was momentarily taken aback, as if she hadn’t expected Burns’ polite behavior, then she smiled and said,

“You are the one who saved my daughter, and I should have invited you first. Since this child was sick, I was not in a hurry.”

When I heard that I was sick, my face became hot. It is embarrassing.

When her mother said she was sick, her face became hot. It was embarrassing.

“It wasn’t that serious.”

Burns nodded his head knowingly but she saw the way he exchanged glaces with her mother.

‘Damn it.’

“I’m glad Lady Biscon is safe. I am so sorry that I made you go through such an inconvenience.”

When the butler served tea, Burns said without touching the cup. There was a disagreement about what happened to Burns, but she had heard why it happened.

Her mother raised the teacup and shook her head.

“I don’t think it’s Mr. Burns’ fault. In the end I wonder why German… ”

She paused, her mother seemed to choose her words, then she spoke quickly.

“Because he did something irrational.”

She was told that it was Burns, not Oliver, that German tried to attack. He told the royal family that he had seen the future and claimed that Balxian was destroyed by Daaribhorn.

He was too brave or too crazy.

Unfortunately, the latter seems to have worked better. German, who heard that Burns defeated Daaribhorn, said that Burns had a grudge against him when his prophecy was wrong.

And there’s where she didn’t get it, German seemed to think she was very important to Burns. So he planned to blackmail Burns by kidnapping her. She didn’t know what threat he was trying to make. German was said to be unable to speak now. She sipped her tea and asked Burns, who thanked her mother for understanding.

“But why did Lord German kidnap me?”

Tetto, ratther, the mercenary tasked with monitoring her was like if she was important for Sir German’s goal. So, naturally, she knew that Oliver owed Lord German a great debt. But last night, Oliver, who had come to check on her, sneered when she asked if Sir German had any gambling debts.

‘That guy is broke.’

“Ah, that… ”

A moment of hesitation crossed Burns’ face. He took one look at her and then turned his head to her mother and said:

“I don’t know either. I can only guess that it was because I returned the handkerchief to Lady Biscon.”

‘Handkerchief? Oh.’

It was then that she remembered how he had sent her a handkerchief. The handkerchief she lent him was dirty, so he said he would return it for a new one.

She guessed so. That must have started a rumor. He had her initials embroidered on the handkerchief he sent her, and he would have had to order it from a shop. Unless Burns had embroidered it himself.

A slightly wicked thought came to her mind. Imagining that big man squatting and embroidering a small handkerchief. It was so out of place that it’s almost laughable. She was giggling alone when she heard her mother speak in a softer voice than she thought.

“Then it is certainly not Mr. Burns’ fault. Mr. Burns was just being polite.”

“Thank you for your kind words.”

More and more her mother seemed to like Burns’ well-mannered behavior. And oddly enough, she wasn’t too happy with this situation.

“I heard that you handle weapons very well.”

Her mother’s ensuing question made her realize why that situation was unpleasant. Because of that dream. A dream in which Eliot Burns killed her mother and Oliver.

Giving him the handkerchief in the first place was to keep her mother and Oliver away from him. But that’s just a dream. She recalled the difference between that situation and the dream. First of all, in the dream, Elliot Burns was not in that well-dressed suit.

A tight-fitting vest and a shirt with silver threads. Elliot Burns now looked like a young aristocrat. He was also the heir to a very wealthy and historic family. It wasn’t the Elliot Burns she had seen in her dreams. He looked like a mercenary or maybe a general in those dreams.

She honestly didn’t know. She has only had that dream twice and her eyes were always focused on him attacking people.

“It’s not at the level the lady is asking about. It’s just enough to protect myself.”

As the near-perfect answer slipped from Burns’ mouth, she saw a satisfied look on her mother’s face. Looks like Elliot Burns would win her mother’s heart.

She started to have strange thoughts. It’s not like Burns wanted to be the lover of an aristocratic wife. Although her mother was not a mistress, she was told that she had been made such an offer in the past.

She was now an ordinary countess, but until Oliver’s birth she was the personal maid of a princess whose mother was now married to a neighboring country. She was told that there were cunning men with the calculation that if they became her mother’s lover, they might make a kite for the royal family. It was also her mother’s pride that she was not swayed by so many temptations.

“Who is this?”

Oliver appeared after a light socialite talk between his mother and Burns. He was holding a trophy in one hand that he hadn’t seen since coming from the club. Who did he steal it from? She glanced over, but Oliver passed the trophy to Biggs, and he sat down next to her and said to Burns.

“Elliot Burns. If I had known you were coming, I wouldn’t have gone out today either.”

Apparently, Oliver and Burns became quite close while she was ill. At her older brother’s unreserved attitude, Burns only grinned without saying anything.

Or maybe she was the only one who thought they’ve become friends. 

Soon after, a servant brought Oliver’s tea, and he continued, raising the cup.

“You did well to get out though. Mother, do you know what I heard at the club today?”

‘Huh? Suddenly?’ Her mother and she suddenly looked puzzled when Oliver started talking about the club. Just in case, she looked up at Burns, and he had a look on his face as if he knew what Oliver was to say.

‘No way.’

“I heard that His Highness the King has decided to give Mr. Burns a title here.”

For a moment there was silence in the living room. She hesitated whether to be surprised or congratulated, but her mother turned her head to Burns and said,

“It’s all right, Mr. Burns. No, I should call you Lord Burns.”

“It’s not just Lord Burns.”

Oliver looked funny. He smiled and spoke.

“Count Burns.

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Translator Note:

Hello there! This is RJR.

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