Chapter 6

Isabella's POV

Adrian walked over and naturally took my hand.

The moment our fingertips touched, I lifted my head and found myself caught in his deep gray eyes.

A hint of subtle amazement flickered within them.

My heartbeat skipped violently, and an almost absurd illusion surged through me—

As if in the depths of that profound gaze, a trace of genuine affection that didn't belong to our contract was quietly emerging.

But I quickly suppressed the thought.

Don't be foolish, Isabella.

Between us was merely a tacit transaction.

He was simply being gentlemanly, or perhaps showing the most instinctive appreciation any man would have for a woman who had just shed her disheveled state.

Yet even so, that kind of gaze felt unfamiliar and warm to me.

Because in Julian's eyes, I had never seen such attention.

When he looked at me, his gaze always passed through me, landing on the estate behind me, the family name, and all that precarious respectability.

We walked side by side toward the registry office across the street.

"Adrian, I just thought of something. We decided to come here on the spur of the moment, without booking several weeks in advance..." I lowered my voice, worry evident in my tone. "Can we actually get this done today?"

"You seem more eager than I expected for us not to make this trip in vain?" He looked at me with a smile, his voice trailing off with a touch of languid nonchalance and obvious teasing.

My cheeks flushed slightly as he continued.

"Don't worry, I have connections who arranged a fast track."

Five minutes later, we were ushered into a quiet office.

A chief registrar with graying hair and reading glasses sat behind the desk, opening our documents.

She lifted her eyelids, her gaze sweeping sharply over Adrian through her lenses. "Mr. Hawthorne, the records show you've been in the United States for the past ten years? Only recently returned to the UK?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Let me calculate the timeline..." The registrar's finger tapped on the calendar. "You see, it's been exactly seven days since you entered the country. Did you fly back specifically to get married?"

I froze for a moment, silently marveling at the coincidence.

Such perfect timing? Even down to the day.

Adrian, however, remained completely unruffled. He even produced a somewhat helpless, wry smile. "You're quite right, ma'am. I had actually scheduled the wedding for later this year while I was in New York, but I couldn't bear to make my beautiful fiancée wait another day, which is why I'm hoping to submit the notice today."

The registrar's brow seemed to relax slightly, though her gaze remained sharp. "And what about your rental agreement? This date appears to be from yesterday? Where were you staying during your first few days back in the country?"

"At a luxury hotel in Mayfair." Adrian smoothly extracted a stack of bills from his briefcase and handed them over. "I was negotiating a project with a major client, and for convenience, I stayed in a suite arranged through their membership card. The lease on this apartment was already close to expiring—I just happened to renew it yesterday for another year."

As he delivered this explanation, his tone was naturally fluid, and he even turned to glance at me, his eyes conveying just the right amount of apology and tenderness.

"So, where are you two planning to hold the wedding ceremony?" The registrar pushed her reading glasses up, her gaze scanning the form.

"Right here." I answered almost without hesitation. "A simple ceremony at the registry office will be fine."

The registrar nodded and reminded us matter-of-factly, "In that case, you'll need to arrange for at least two witnesses to be present and sign on the day."

I froze, instinctively turning my head, then pulled Adrian to a corner in the hallway outside the office.

"Adrian, our kind of union is essentially no different from eloping." I lowered my voice, a bitterness I hadn't even noticed myself seeping into my tone.

After all, if the two elders at home learned that the reason I fled last night's banquet was to run off and register my marriage with Adrian, they wouldn't flip the table only if they were showing extreme restraint—how could they possibly agree to be my witnesses?

As for my two sisters, Catherine had always been rule-abiding and would never go against the family's wishes; Dorina, though somewhat rebellious by nature, was still a minor and didn't have the legal qualifications to serve as a witness.

I looked up at Adrian, feeling inexplicably uncertain. "The Hawthorne family would probably be quite opposed to this too, wouldn't they?"

"More than just opposed?" Adrian let out a soft laugh, a glint of mockery flashing in his deep gray eyes. "They'd probably break my legs outright."

Of course!

As the prodigal son abandoned and exiled by the entire family, to have stolen his own nephew's fiancée—the scandal such news would bring to both families was easy to imagine.

Seeing my tense expression, he dropped the joking tone and patted the back of my hand reassuringly. "But don't worry, I naturally have ways to find people to witness for me. Friends, clients, anyone will do. Isabella, we don't need to please those who can never be on the same wavelength as us."

Hearing him say this, I felt slightly relieved.

"Alright, then I'll go back and ask my friends for help too."

Returning to the registrar, he had already completed the registration review. All that remained was for Adrian and me to sign and pay the fees.

"Forty-two pounds per person, eighty-four total."

I reached into my handbag and pulled out a somewhat worn leather wallet.

The moment I unzipped it, I clearly saw only a few crumpled bills and some coins inside—

Unfortunately, only forty-one pounds.

There were still three full days until payday, and these forty-one pounds were all that remained of my living expenses for the month.

No one knew better than I did how that pitiful monthly salary got squeezed dry.

The workload in the emergency department was extreme, and even if I gritted my teeth through all the night shifts to earn that meager night differential, it was nowhere near enough to fill the holes at home.

Every month when my salary arrived, the student loan payment was deducted first without fail, then Mother would take a large portion under various pretexts to repay those never-ending debts, cover the estate's exorbitant daily expenses, and pay for Father's medical bills.

What was left for me was always just this bit of spare change that barely kept me from starving.

I stared at the money in my hand, my fingertips slightly cold.

Forty-one pounds—not even enough to cover my own share of the marriage fee!

I bit my lip, preparing to swallow my pride and ask Adrian for help, when I saw him reach out with effortless naturalness, using two slender fingers to push my wallet closed.

He organized the entire fee he had prepared and handed it to the registrar.

"Let me pay, Isabella." His voice was soft, soft enough that only I could hear.

There wasn't a trace of charity or pity in his tone, only a matter-of-fact gentleness. "When I was preparing the documents earlier, I already exchanged for the exact change. The amount is perfect."