Chapter 23
“For example…”
Countess Rosette’s lips turned downward in a look of pity.
“I heard that the Count of Linton got terribly angry yesterday and left with Miss Elodie. I told them that couldn’t possibly be true. How could he run off with some theater singer after such a magnificent banquet hosted by his wife?”
Her mouth showed concern, but her eyes sparkled with amusement.
“I told them right then and there—he must finally be realizing your worth. I said the two of you would surely grow closer.”
I had no words for that. I bought myself time by pretending to sip my tea.
She must’ve taken my silence as confirmation, because she gasped dramatically and covered her mouth with one hand.
“Oh heavens, it’s true, isn’t it? Cecilia, after everything you’ve endured, and yet he still clings to that woman!”
Delight shimmered in her eyes, practically overflowing.
Why did this woman resent Cecilia so much?
I tuned out her meaningless chatter and thought it through.
It couldn’t have been because of Cecilia’s birth mother. According to her journal and what the nanny had said, Cecilia’s mother died shortly after giving birth.
Cecilia had done everything she could to win her stepmother’s love.
She hadn’t committed any unforgivable sin, as I once had.
Count Rosette had remained loyal to his wife until the end. There wasn’t a single hint of infidelity in his story.
“If you keep trying, I’m sure the Count of Linton will come to his senses,” Rosette said, wrapping up her long-winded talk with a half-hearted encouragement.
“That’s right! Our lady was even invited by Marchioness Federica!” Sarah added quickly as she refilled Rosette’s empty teacup, which had been drained mid-monologue.
“Marchioness Federica?”
Rosette’s hand froze for just a second as it reached for the cup.
“You mean the Marchioness Federica—Her Majesty the Queen’s grandmother?”
She forgot to act sweet for a moment and asked the question sharply.
Even clueless Sarah was startled by her sudden tone.
“She didn’t even attend your banquet.”
Rosette seemed to recover her composure—or at least tried to.
“Well, like you said, it was just a modest banquet. But somehow, word reached her. She’s hosting a small tea gathering next month and asked if I could stop by—if I’m not too busy.”
“Modest or not, it must’ve been impressive. That’s why she’s curious.”
Rosette didn’t touch her tea again.
“Well, this works out perfectly. You should take Isla with you.”
“Isla?”
She said it like she was simply claiming something that was rightfully hers.
“You’re still getting used to society. Isla could support you.”
“Isla could support me.”
This time, it wasn’t a question.
Rosette’s lips twitched slightly, perhaps catching the sarcasm in my voice.
“She may be younger than you, but she has more experience. You were always shy as a child, afraid of standing in front of others.”
Rosette continued calmly, throwing out her next move.
“Isla, on the other hand, is quite outgoing. She’s accompanied me to many events. I don’t know the Marchioness personally, but I hear she’s strict.”
If Cecilia really had avoided the public eye, it wasn’t out of shyness. It was probably from the quiet discomfort she felt.
It wasn’t hard to picture Rosette subtly manipulating the younger Cecilia.
“Thank you for your concern.”
I owed Cecilia a debt.
Not loving Edgar Linton was only part of it.
This second life had freed me from being haunted forever by my mother’s ghost.
“But if the Marchioness truly is that strict, I doubt she’d welcome an extra guest she didn’t invite.”
Rosette’s brow creased slightly.
“Well, you could always ask for her permission in advance. Don’t make such a fuss over something so simple. Sometimes, you’re even more childish than Isla.”
Ah, what a strategy—dumping the responsibility on me and then blaming me for hesitating.
I almost applauded.
“I’ll speak to Edgar about it.”
He was the perfect person to shut her down.
Their relationship wasn’t typical of a mother-in-law and son-in-law. They weren’t even family who grudgingly tolerated each other.
“Of course.”
Surprisingly, Rosette agreed without protest.
“Even if he isn’t committed to the marriage, I doubt he’s blind to the family’s interests.”
I blinked slowly. Had I misjudged them?
Maybe their relationship wasn’t as strained as I thought.
“I’ll speak to him myself. After all, I’m sure it’s not easy for you to face the Count right now.”
“Thank you.”
As always, I gave the answer she wanted to hear.
Rosette left looking completely satisfied.
“Well, it’s great that Miss Isla will be going with you, my lady,” Sarah said brightly as she quickly claimed the seat Rosette had just vacated.
“Clear the table, please.”
Even if I wasn’t fully familiar with the rules of a class-based society, I was sharp enough to notice when someone was treating me with less respect than they should.
I might not have memorized every regulation a maid had to follow, but I was certain of one thing—Sarah wasn’t supposed to be sitting across from me as if we were equals.
“Oh, come on. I’m your personal maid, my lady. You should be asking one of the other girls to take care of this kind of chore.”
She glanced at the snacks on the tray, then reached out and took one.
“Sarah.”
“Yes?”
I held back. I needed a moment to think.
Why had Sarah gone out of her way to mention the invitation from Marchioness Federica?
And more strangely, Countess Rosette hadn’t seemed the least bit offended when Sarah, a maid, chimed in during our conversation.
It was a surprising amount of tolerance—especially compared to how Ricardo insisted people of different social classes shouldn’t mix.
“Tell the nanny to come to the study.”
“She’s probably out in the garden with her son.”
Sarah grumbled.
“It’s too hot, my lady. Let someone else go. I’m supposed to be by your side, remember?”
When had this shift happened?
Sarah used to act like I was her only hope—like she needed Cecilia to pull herself together. But now, her attitude had changed.
She didn’t seem to care anymore whether Cecilia reclaimed her place.
She liked to call herself my personal maid, but she was hardly ever around.
After the banquet, it was the nanny—not Sarah—who came to my room. Sarah only stopped by briefly under the excuse of bringing a late-night snack after I saw Edgar and Elodie.
The more I thought about it, the more suspicious I became. Could this change have come under Countess Rosette’s direction?
After all, Edgar and Elodie had gone out very late that night.
It wasn’t likely there were enough people awake to notice, let alone spread word to the Countess by the next morning.
“Bring the nanny, Sarah.”
I gave the order firmly, then turned and walked to the study.
I’d only been here once—before the banquet, to go over arrangements with the head housemaid. The room was spotless, not a speck of dust in sight.
I ran my hand along the polished wood of the desk.
Its cool, smooth surface helped calm the storm that had been building in my chest.
On the desk sat fine-quality stationery and ink.
It was time to reply to Marchioness Federica.
Whatever Edgar might think, I would attend the tea party alone.
If he’d already promised Countess Rosette that Isla would accompany me, then they’d have to get her an invitation of her own.
“You called, my lady?”
The door flew open. The sudden entrance caused me to spill a drop of ink on the half-written letter.
“Nanny.”
I sighed and folded the half-finished page, setting it aside.
“You should knock.”
“Oh, look at you. Since when did my little lady become so proper?”
She laughed and brushed off my scolding like it was a joke.
“My heart breaks watching Justin out there in the heat, working up a sweat.”
Right—Justin. That was his name.
“Is that so? He said something different to me yesterday.”
“Well, of course. That boy might not show it, but he wants to look good in front of you. I raised him like he was your brother, you know. Ever since he was a baby, he’s followed you around like family.”
I opened the drawer to look for more stationery.
Before I could start writing again, the nanny pressed on.
“So, that wretched stepmother came by, huh?”
“I’ll be leaving the manor more often now. Sir Juan will need help managing things while I’m away. I’d like to assign someone to assist him—not a servant exactly, but more like a runner.”
I ignored her question and focused on my point.
“A runner?”
Her wrinkled eyes widened.
“I knew it. I just knew you hadn’t forgotten our Justin. He told me not to get my hopes up, but I said, ‘Our lady’s not like that.’ We’re more of a family than that Isla girl, even if she shares half your blood.”
At least Isla and Cecilia shared that much. I didn’t see Isla as family—but if we were going by facts alone, she had more of a right to be called family than the nanny and her son ever would.
“She’s a schemer, that one. I’ll bet anything she helped her mother steal your dowry.”
“My dowry?”
That was the first I’d heard of this.
“You didn’t know? Oh, my poor lady!”
The nanny let out a heavy sigh, then leaned in, speaking more quietly.
“I don’t have proof, just suspicion. But I believe your real mother—the Countess Rosette—must have left you something. And your father, bless him, was too honorable a man to touch what belonged to her.”
I didn’t stop writing.
Marchioness Federica, it is an honor to receive your invitation. Thank you for your kindness. I will gladly attend your upcoming gathering… I scribbled as I motioned for her to keep talking.
“But when you got married,” she continued, “I managed to sneak a look at the documents. And let me tell you—the dowry was shockingly small. Count Linton didn’t say anything, but I’m sure he was disappointed.”
“Cecilia didn’t know that? I didn’t know?”
At my question, the nanny looked puzzled.
Then, as if suddenly remembering I had lost my memory, she clutched her chest in embarrassment.
