Chapter 24

“I told you this was something worth investigating! But you insisted—even a stepmother is still a mother, and it would be wrong to question anything she does!”

“What was Edgar’s reaction?”

Was his affair triggered by Cecilia’s lacking dowry?

“Count Linton handled it very gracefully. He covered the shortfall with money from his personal vault. Things are stable now thanks to his business skills, but back then, even he was going through a rough time.”

If what the nanny said was true, then Edgar had wanted Cecilia enough to spend his own money on the marriage.

Or perhaps… the marriage had brought in something that filled his empty vault—and his gesture had been nothing more than a calculated show of gratitude.

“Nanny.”

“Yes?”

I cut off her attempt to sing Edgar’s praises.

“I’ll speak to Sir Juan today about assigning Justin to him.”

“Thank you, my lady!”

“And tomorrow, I’ll be sending Sarah on an errand. While she’s out, check her room. See if she’s kept any notes or letters exchanged with Countess Rosette.”

The nanny blinked in surprise.

“Well… I’m getting old, my lady. I might not be quick enough for that sort of thing…”

“You’re the only one I can trust. I lost my real mother early and suffered under a cruel stepmother. You know that. And Sarah was hired by Edgar.”

She hesitated, unsure.

“Don’t think of it as doing it for me. Think of it as doing it for Justin. Do you really want him to remain a gardener for the rest of his life?”

At the mention of her son, she finally nodded with resolve.

I pressed my lips together.

So much for her saying we were family. In the end, her real family was only her son.

“Then Justin will really become Sir Juan’s assistant?”

“I’ll do everything I can to convince him.”

Afraid I might change my mind, the nanny quickly left the room.

Now it was time for me to go through Cecilia’s diary—every page, from start to finish.

A few days passed without incident.

I sent Justin to the Rosette estate to collect all of Cecilia’s personal belongings.

I even reread the diary I had found hidden in Cecilia’s vanity.

Click. I shut the cover. Beside me lay dozens more volumes, scattered across the table.

Cecilia had only arrived at Linton Manor two years ago.

In that short time, she had poured all her pain into these pages.

“This can’t go on.”

Maybe I was the soul drawn in by Cecilia’s desperate wish—not to love Edgar.

That’s how deep her despair had been.

It wasn’t a miracle. It was the result of an intense, personal yearning.

Cecilia’s situation was even worse than I had imagined.

“Stolen inheritance…”

I had always been aware of how important money was.

Edgar would keep cheating. And one day, like my father, he might demand a divorce.

But I wouldn’t let Cecilia end up like my mother.

This second chance at life—it wasn’t entirely mine. Even if my soul now lived in Cecilia’s body, I had a responsibility to her too.

That’s why I kept trying to draw a line between her and me.

“If the inheritance still exists, I could survive even after a divorce.”

Where did Cecilia’s inheritance go?

Countess Rosette was a clever woman. She wouldn’t have wasted such a fortune.

Did she really reroute it to Isla, just as the nanny suspected?

That seemed like the most likely theory for now.

I tapped the diary with my fingers and fell into thought.

If I wanted to survive in this world, the first thing I needed was an ally.

Someone with more influence than Sarah or the nanny. Those two could be swayed by promises of better rewards and turn on me at any time.

Second, that powerful ally needed to be on my side purely out of goodwill—even if that goodwill came in the form of sympathy, which I normally despised.

I’d endure it.

Only one person fit those conditions: Marchioness Federica, whom I hadn’t even met yet.

I forced Ricardo’s face out of my thoughts.

No. It couldn’t be Ricardo.

If this were just my problem, I wouldn’t be able to plan so rationally.

The fact that I could—that I had to—meant I still saw myself and Cecilia as two separate people.

But if Ricardo got involved…

“This is Cecilia’s revenge. It has nothing to do with him.”

I pressed my hand against my unsteady heart and whispered the words like a vow.

Ricardo had dragged me back to the person I used to be—before I ever entered Cecilia’s body.

On the outside, he looked no different from anyone else. But if you peeled back the surface, he was like a melted chocolate wrapped in a flawless wrapper—a faulty product.

Just like me.

But we did have our differences. I, for instance, worked hard to hide my flaws, and I turned a blind eye when I saw them in others.

Ricardo recognized the flaws we shared—and came toward me anyway.

Two negatives don’t make a positive. That only works in math.

When it comes to people, two negatives make a deeper, heavier negative.

My mother and I were proof of that.

“Stop thinking.”

I snapped at myself, forcing my thoughts back to Cecilia’s situation.

“I need to find out what happened to that inheritance.”

Countess Rosette wouldn’t have been so careless as to openly declare, ‘This inheritance was left by Cecilia’s mother, but it now belongs to Isla.’

“So first… I need to get close to Marchioness Federica.”

What kind of person is she?

They said she was the Queen’s grandmother. The Queen.

I still hadn’t gotten used to titles like Count and Duke, and now I had to wrap my head around royalty.

To me, grandmothers were almost as unfamiliar as mothers.

They had scolded my mother, and eventually scolded me too—for ruining her life.

“My lady, are you in your room?”

The nanny peeked in, her head just barely visible around the doorframe.

There was still no knock.

I sighed and gave her permission to enter.

“Did you find anything?”

“I did, but…”

The nanny hesitated, hiding her hands behind her back.

“My lady, the house has only just quieted down again. Whatever Sarah did—it couldn’t have been anything serious. You didn’t do anything wrong, so there’s no need to stir up trouble over this.”

In other words, she was telling me to let it go.

“Give it to me.”

“My lady… instead of focusing on Sarah, shouldn’t you be thinking about how to win the Count back? If you can soften his heart, a meddling maid like her will disappear on her own.”

“Nanny. Hand it over.”

At my calm but firm order, she reluctantly revealed a stack of small notes.

Each was a short request from Countess Rosette.

[Keep an eye on the garden.]

My gaze lingered on the last note for a long time.

Keep an eye on the garden.

Ricardo had come and gone through the garden in secret.

The garden wall around Linton Manor was low—tall men could easily leap over it.

There had been a line in Cecilia’s journal where she’d asked to have the wall raised.

But Edgar had dismissed her, saying nobles should be accustomed to being seen. He waved away her concerns like they were nonsense.

His self-importance rivaled the Sun King himself, who once said, “I am the state.”

“What else?”

“That’s all, my lady.”

“Sir Juan doesn’t normally take on a page. But he said he’d make an exception—he’ll accept Justin as an assistant, for my sake.”

The nanny’s weathered face was filled with worry.

“My lady, my boy might not be much use, but he cares about you. We both do. Like I said—we’ve always been like family, the three of us.”

She had misjudged me.

I hated pity, whether it was directed at me or coming from me. I had no tolerance for it.

If Cecilia’s soul were still here, the nanny would’ve remained in control—always holding the emotional upper hand, always tasting victory.

But I wasn’t Cecilia. I was a melted mess of a person, and I let her pleas pass right through one ear and out the other.

“I know, Nanny. That’s why I pleaded with Sir Juan to accept him. Now you don’t have to check on Justin in the garden all the time. You can use that time to keep an eye on Sarah instead.”

She wiped her eyes with her apron.

I glanced sideways and saw that no tear stains had been left behind.

“You’re so cruel, my lady! After everything I’ve done for you! I didn’t raise you with such care just so you could put me on maid-watching duty!”

Sarah had always kept an eye on the nanny.

She wanted to rise above the other servants, to bask in the pride of being my personal maid. So when the nanny reappeared, it disrupted everything she had built up for herself.

But the nanny looked down on Sarah too.

No matter how hard Sarah tried, she could never match the bond that had existed between Cecilia and the nanny since childhood.

To be asked to spy on someone so beneath her—it had to sting her pride.

She would no longer be able to act high and mighty. She would have to coax Sarah gently, dig with soft words and a fake smile.

But that wasn’t my concern.

“How would I know? I lost my memory, remember? Did you forget that, Nanny?”

I said it in a flat tone.

The nanny’s mouth hung open, speechless.

In Cecilia’s diaries, the nanny came across as a warm, motherly figure. But in the spaces between the lines, I had sensed something else—something unpleasant.

She had been just like Countess Rosette, always manipulating Cecilia.

While Rosette subtly chipped away at Cecilia’s self-esteem, the nanny fed her emotional hunger openly and relentlessly.

She had played a part in what Cecilia became.

That was the conclusion I came to.

Faulty people recognize one another. It was my own weakness that melted me into what I was, but Cecilia—she had people to blame.

“Send someone to fetch Madame Pepe.”

“That flashy woman?”

“Madame Pepe is the reason the banquet was a success. I’ll be consulting her on the dress I’ll wear to Marchioness Federica’s tea.”

“Well, isn’t this perfect timing.”

A weary voice spoke from the doorway.

I turned my head and saw Edgar, leaning casually against the frame.

“Edgar.”

“Countess of Linton.”

His tone dripped with sarcasm.

“Take your little half-sister with you. Buy her a dress. I’ll cover the cost.”

The nanny shifted and gave me a look—a silent suggestion that I obey.

“I’ve already sent my reply. Unfortunately, Isla will have to wait for another opportunity.”

“Cecilia.”

His voice was strained, barely suppressing anger.

“I already told that woman she could go. Just take her.”

“Calling Marchioness Federica ‘that woman’ doesn’t seem very appropriate, does it?”

Of course, the “that woman” he meant was Countess Rosette. But I wasn’t going to let him dodge the implication.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

He exploded.

The nanny flinched and quickly slipped out of the room, not forgetting to close the door behind her—even as she abandoned me to his wrath.

“Is this because of Elodie?! Because she’s not miserable, now you want to punish me?!”

He was way off.

“Of course not. You can live with Miss Elodie if that’s what you want. I don’t care.”

“What?”

“I just don’t want to fall out of favor with Marchioness Federica. Just like how you dislike Lord Ricardo but still try to be polite for appearance’s sake.”

“You little—!”

He kicked the vanity table.

The beautiful piece of furniture lost one of its legs with a loud crack.

“I told Countess Rosette that Isla wouldn’t be attending.”

“She said you were going to talk it over with me.”

“And I planned to.”

I blinked innocently.

“But you haven’t been home in days. I couldn’t keep Marchioness Federica waiting. So I sent the reply today.”

Edgar’s breathing grew heavier.

Not getting his way was clearly getting to him.

“So,” I said with a bright smile, opening the door, “if Isla still needs an invitation, I suppose you’ll have to take care of it yourself.”

That was the end of our conversation.

I pointed toward the hallway.

“You should go, Count. The tea is being held later this week. You’ll need to act fast if you want to make arrangements in time.”

Edgar stomped out, his heels pounding against the floor, kicking the other leg off the broken vanity as he went.

I finally let out the breath I’d been holding.

I could’ve ended up like that shattered piece of furniture.

My fingers trembled slightly.