Chapter 27
The Marchioness Federica’s estate was steeped in old charm.
When I first saw the Linton estate, I’d thought it looked like a history museum—but this place went beyond that. It felt like stepping into a preserved piece of the past.
“They say it’s exactly the same as it was a hundred years ago,” Sarah said, eyes wide with awe.
“Apparently, they spend a huge amount of money every year to keep it just the way the first Marchioness Federica had it.”
A hundred years. This building had endured an entire century.
Just being here—surrounded by its grandeur and weighty history—made me feel small, even though nothing had happened yet.
“She wasn’t a marchioness at the time, though.”
“Really?”
“Yes. The title of Marchioness was granted after Lady Federica’s daughter became Queen.”
Having Sarah by my side was like having a walking encyclopedia. I didn’t need to ask questions—she just shared information naturally.
If only she didn’t work for Lady Rosette. It was a shame, really.
What had Lady Rosette promised her? Money, maybe. That was the easiest way to move someone’s heart.
I didn’t have any money, so I’d used my nanny’s son as leverage. It wasn’t a smart long-term move.
I needed funds. If I wanted to loosen Lady Rosette’s grip on Cecilia’s inheritance, I would absolutely need Marchioness Federica’s support.
“My lady, are you feeling alright?”
Perhaps Sarah noticed my nerves. She looked at me with concern.
“I’m fine.”
“It might have helped if Lady Isla came along. She has more experience with social events and could’ve supported you better.”
At this point, I had to admire Sarah’s dedication. She seemed determined to make sure Isla received her own invitation next time.
“If anyone overheard you, they might think Isla was your real mistress.”
“Pardon?”
“I know you, so I won’t misunderstand. But be careful when you’re in public. You know what people say about a maid who appears to serve two households.”
Sarah’s face turned bright red in embarrassment. I walked ahead of her.
“My lady,”
Sir Juan, who had been quietly following us, suddenly held out his arm.
“May I escort you?”
Despite his broad frame and thick beard, Sir Juan had a way of blending into the background. He rarely spoke, but when he did, his words were worth listening to. So once again, I followed his lead without question.
“My lady, I could—”
Justin stepped forward hesitantly. I had brought him along to quiet the rumors, but in many ways, he was a liability.
“Step aside.”
Sir Juan’s voice was low but firm.
“This is not a place for someone like you.”
Justin looked at me, his eyes pleading for support, but I didn’t return his gaze.
“Countess Linton?”
An older man in a well-tailored suit greeted me at the door.
“Welcome to the Federica estate. I’m Roland, the butler. The Marchioness is expecting you. Please follow me.”
The butler gave Sir Juan a quick once-over, then smiled in approval. I was glad I had taken his advice. Had I come through this grand entrance alone, I doubt I would have made the right impression.
“The knight’s lounge will be shown to you by that young man.”
Just as Justin tried to follow Sir Juan inside, the butler stepped in front of him.
“There’s no separate lounge for coachmen. It would be best for you to wait in the carriage.”
“I’m not a coachman,” Justin snapped.
He turned to me, clearly hoping I’d speak on his behalf.
“You’re not a knight either. Go back to the carriage.”
This was Marchioness Federica’s domain—and it was the make-or-break moment for the future I was trying to build.
Justin looked frustrated, but when our eyes finally met, he gave me a faint, sad smile before stepping back outside.
“Shall we?”
The butler calmly resumed as if nothing had happened and led me inside. I took a deep breath and followed him.
We arrived at a small greenhouse. As soon as the door opened, a rush of warm, humid air greeted us. Inside, several women were already seated.
Among them, I spotted Josephine and smiled with relief.
“Ah, Cecilia,”
Josephine greeted me warmly and reached out her hand.
“Isabel, this is the Countess of Linton I told you about.”
“It’s an honor to meet the Marchioness Federica,”
I said, curtsying politely toward the woman Josephine had gestured to.
When I raised my head and saw her face, I was surprised.
I’d expected a cold, stern old noblewoman—but Marchioness Federica looked more like a kind, round-faced grandmother from next door.
“Come a bit closer, dear. My eyes aren’t what they used to be.”
I stepped forward without hesitation.
“You’re a beauty. I love seeing pretty young ladies. Sit, sit. My house is so out of the way—I’m sure it wasn’t easy getting here.”
To my surprise, she invited me to sit at her right side.
“So, you’re the Countess of Linton?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Cecilia Linton.”
“I’ve heard your name from Josephine. My eyes may be failing me, but thankfully my ears still work just fine.”
I quietly observed the others gathered in the room. They were women around Josephine’s age, and clearly well-acquainted with one another.
“Ah, Lady Ellen.”
I spotted another familiar face. She was among the younger women in the group.
“Lady Cecilia, it’s even nicer seeing you here,”
Ellen greeted me with a cheerful tone, as though she’d completely forgotten the humiliation she suffered from Ricardo at the dinner party.
“Isabel, Lady Cecilia’s dinner party was absolutely splendid.”
Her gift for words was impressive. Marchioness Federica let out soft bursts of laughter as Ellen vividly described the evening.
“It was just a shame that the Count of Linton left partway through.”
“I suppose he still hasn’t come to his senses?”
A woman seated across from Ellen shook her head with a disapproving sigh.
“When the head of a household behaves like that, no wonder the rumors are so awful.”
“What rumors?” I asked, letting out a quiet, weary sigh as if I were troubled.
“It wasn’t anything serious. Thankfully, Edgar didn’t misunderstand.”
“So he came to check things out himself?” Ellen added with a touch of sarcasm.
I bowed my head slightly and said nothing. Marchioness Federica gently patted the back of my hand.
She’d said her hearing was still sharp, so there was no way she hadn’t heard the rumors herself.
“It was Count Linton who was in the wrong,”
Josephine declared firmly.
“Exactly. A man is supposed to protect his family. If he can’t even do that, he doesn’t deserve to be called one.”
Marchioness Federica nodded in agreement. With the two most influential women in the room speaking so decisively, no one dared argue.
In an instant, the room’s mood shifted—Edgar had been labeled a disgrace.
That was Josephine’s influence. Even in this small gathering, the power dynamics were clear.
If Marchioness Federica sided with Josephine, who would be foolish enough to speak up for Edgar?
I glanced subtly at Sarah. She was nervously chewing her lip, clearly unsure of what to do.
She was probably already dreading the thought of reporting this back to Lady Rosette. I pretended to be quietly comforted, wearing a bittersweet smile to match the mood.
For a moment, I found myself wondering—what if my mother had known women like these?
This small group made me realize that not all older women were bound by old-fashioned thinking.
“Still, it seems Edgar did feel some guilt. Just the other day, we went out shopping for furniture together.”
“I heard about that. I believe he bought a vanity table?”
“Yes. The leg on the old one broke.”
Josephine narrowed her eyes.
“The leg on a perfectly fine vanity just broke?”
I covered my mouth, pretending to be flustered.
“Goodness, it’s hard to believe. He always looks so gentle. He has such a good reputation, too…”
Sensing Josephine’s sharp intuition, I decided not to say more. Instead, I gestured to Sarah to bring out the gift I had prepared.
“While I was out, I picked up a handkerchief. I just wanted to thank you for the invitation.”
Marchioness Federica opened the box.
“This is…”
“I embroidered it myself. I hope it’s to your liking.”
A warm smile appeared on her round face.
“As you get older, you start to appreciate the value of something made with care. Thank you, Countess Linton.”
“Please, it would make me happier if you just called me Cecilia.”
Under normal circumstances, I would’ve never said something so sweet. But now, as Cecilia, I relied on her charm and boldness.
Just as I expected, Marchioness Federica’s expression softened—like a grandmother delighted by her grandchild’s antics.
The mood lightened, and the unpleasant talk about Edgar faded into the background.
Josephine smoothly shifted the topic to gossip tailored to Lady Isabel’s tastes.
Ellen chimed in perfectly, adding just the right amount of flair. A few more cups of tea were served, and just as the dessert plates began to empty, the butler returned.
“Lord Ricardo has arrived.”
“Ah, that’s right. Let him in.”
A tall, broad-shouldered man entered the greenhouse. He didn’t flinch at the heat—clearly used to this place.
“Lady Isabel,”
he greeted. My suspicions were correct. With a mix of charm and playfulness, Ricardo kissed the back of Marchioness Federica’s hand.
“Lady Josephine, Lady Ellen, Lady Doria.”
After greeting the others, his gaze finally landed on me.
“Countess Linton.”
I pressed my lips together tightly, trying to hide how dry they felt.
“Now, what sort of delightful conversations have I walked into?”
Ricardo spoke with a deliberately arrogant tone, making the women laugh.
“He never did learn any manners.”
“Which is exactly why you all love me.”
That surprised me. I’d thought everyone looked down on him.
Though Ellen seemed a bit uncomfortable, she didn’t say anything in front of Marchioness Federica.
“I heard there was a new face in this stuffy little circle, so I rushed over. Isabel, I must say, I’m disappointed.”
“Disappointed in me?”
“Yes. You didn’t mention that the new lady was already married.”
Marchioness Federica playfully reached out with one hand to me, and the other to Ricardo.
“Had I known, I wouldn’t have dressed up like this just to impress her.”
“You certainly talk a lot—for someone who never plans on getting married.”
“Didn’t I tell you, Isabel? I’ll gladly welcome any lady you introduce.”
I lifted my teacup to my lips, then quietly set it back down.
Ricardo’s role here was clear—he was the Marchioness’s favorite performer.
She truly seemed to care for him.
That explained how he’d dared to act so rudely toward Ellen at the dinner party—because he had the Marchioness’s protection.
He must have done it to survive.
Though the Duke of Bastian had named Ricardo as his heir, public opinion was still cold.
Being under the wing of Marchioness Federica, the Queen’s grandmother, was vital for Ricardo—and he had clearly secured her favor.
Watching him, I decided I’d do the same. I needed Marchioness Federica too. And like him, I would choose my role and play it to perfection.
“Cecilia, would you like more tea?”
At Josephine’s prompt, I lifted my empty cup. At that moment, Ricardo looked at me.
Our eyes met for only a second—but it felt like he saw right through me.
Varsha.miffy
Love these 2. They understand and see through each other.