Chapter 28
“Countess Linton, have you seen Lady Isabel’s Garden?”
Ricardo asked.
“No, I haven’t.”
“If you’d seen the garden she’s cared for herself, the dinner party would’ve been all the more impressive. What a pity.”
Marchioness Federica chuckled softly and tapped his arm.
“You think I don’t know you’re just saying that to flatter an old woman?”
“Flattery’s never really suited me,” he replied. “I just speak the truth. But if you insist on twisting it that way, I’m a bit hurt.”
Ellen stifled a laugh with a polite cough. The woman called Doria twisted her lips, barely hiding her amusement.
It was clear now—Ricardo was Marchioness Federica’s pet. Not in a condescending way, but like a favorite cat who’s allowed to be a little too bold.
Lady Josephine aside, neither Lady Ellen nor Lady Doria were women he needed to impress. They didn’t hold enough weight.
They were all countesses, sure—but compared to Marchioness Federica, the difference in status was clear. The same way anyone could tell the difference between the Linton estate and Rosette’s at a single glance.
I suspected the Allegro family, which Josephine belonged to, must be an old, traditional house. Just like the Federica family, which, though not originally a marquessate, gained its power and prestige after producing a queen.
“If Lady Isabel doesn’t mind, I’d love to show the Countess the garden myself,”
Ricardo said with a theatrical air, undeterred by the quiet scoffs around him. If anything, that performance only seemed to amuse Marchioness Federica more.
“Why not? If he wants to show it off, I see no reason to stop him.”
She smiled brightly and gave her approval.
“Cecilia, if this young man acts too cheeky, don’t hesitate to tattle to me. He’s not a bad kid, but sometimes his childish side slips out.”
“It’s an honor, Lady Ricardo. Thank you for letting me see the garden.”
I caught the sharp looks exchanged between Ellen and Doria.
Marchioness Federica may have cared for Ricardo, but it wasn’t a deep, trusting affection—it was more like the fondness one might have for a spoiled but amusing cat. Even if the cat scratched you now and then, it was brushed off as cute behavior. Convenient love. One-sided.
“Shall we, Countess?”
Ricardo extended his hand, and I took it as we stepped out of the greenhouse.
The fresh air of the open garden felt like a relief.
“It’s rather hot in there, isn’t it?”
Ricardo lowered his voice slightly.
“Ideal for the elderly, I suppose.”
He glanced sideways, trying to see if I’d react to the joke.
“Marchioness Federica seems to care for you a lot,”
I murmured quietly instead of laughing.
“She’s lost her husband, her child, even the granddaughter she cherished… I came along at the right time when she needed someone to care for.”
Ricardo explained his position with a hint of bitterness. As a servant approached, he waved him away with a small gesture.
“You seem quite familiar with this estate.”
“When you’re trying to be the perfect pet, you have to visit often.”
Before long, we reached the garden.
I glanced behind me to check on Sarah. She was following a few steps behind, five or six at most—but just seeing her there made my chest tighten.
“It would be a shame to visit the estate and not see the maze garden.”
Ricardo led me toward the high hedges that formed a living wall around the maze.
He navigated the twists and turns with surprising ease.
Sarah’s footsteps followed for a while, until even those sounds faded. She was lost.
Had Ricardo noticed my discomfort?
We walked silently for a while, but my mind was far from quiet. Why was this man going out of his way for me?
He didn’t have any past connection to Cecilia, like a nanny or childhood friend. Unlike Penelope, who I had deliberately built a relationship with, Ricardo had no prior bond.
Penelope’s kindness already felt like more than I deserved. But at least with her, I had something to offer in return—enough to keep things balanced.
The Ricardo from the letters—“Ricky”—was warm and kind. He’d asked me to separate that version of himself from “Lord Ricardo.”
And yet, standing before me now, it was hard to tell the two apart. Their expressions were different, but the man felt the same.
“Lord Ricardo.”
I finally spoke, unable to quiet my thoughts any longer.
“I have nothing to offer you.”
He stopped walking. I kept going, putting a few more steps between us.
“Unless my memory is failing me,” he said, “I don’t recall ever asking the Countess of Linton for anything.”
I didn’t stop. The space between us grew.
“I’m a countess in name only. I’m not respected, let alone loved. I have no power over anything in the Linton household.”
If I were the real Cecilia, things would be different. She must have been someone truly worthy of love.
Cecilia never hurt anyone. Unlike me, she only suffered herself—never caused pain to others.
Someone like me didn’t deserve this kindness. Even if the world had changed, even if the soul now wore a different body, that truth remained the same.
“So, Countess Linton avoids people when she has nothing to give?”
Ricardo asked behind me.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I walked faster.
But he caught up quickly, closing the gap between us with just a few long strides.
“That’s why you refused the invitation from the Baroness of Artois, isn’t it?”
He was right. Margaret had sent several notes asking me to join her for tea or to go shopping. I’d turned down every single one.
At the dinner party, I’d been caught up in the moment and accepted her friendly offer. But once time passed, I could clearly see what I had done.
“Wait a second—how did Lord Ricardo know that?”
I turned toward him, realizing only now how close he’d gotten.
“Did Lady Margaret tell you?”
Even as I asked, I already knew the answer. Even if they were friendly in private, they’d never let that show in public.
The illegitimate son of a duke and the illegitimate daughter of a baron—just the kind of pairing that would spark scandal. Margaret might be many things, but she wasn’t stupid.
And neither was Ricardo.
That left only one possibility: someone close to me had been feeding information not only to Lady Rosette—but to Ricardo as well.
I shut my eyes tightly, then opened them.
Our gazes met.
He must have seen the suspicion in mine, because his expression twisted slightly.
“Countess Linton, I know what you’re thinking. But that’s not true.”
But I wasn’t really listening anymore. My mind was racing. Who could it be? Not the nanny—her son’s future was already tied to me.
Sarah? She had her hands full just carrying out Lady Rosette’s instructions. Suspicious, maybe—but unlikely.
“Cecilia, please. Let me explain.”
His voice was almost pleading.
“No, my lord.”
I took a step back.
“You don’t owe me an explanation.”
Ricardo was the heir to the House of Bastian. Someone like him had no reason to justify himself to someone like me—a powerless, title-only countess.
The power imbalance between us was undeniable. I’d simply been foolish enough to mistake the tone of a few letters.
What an idiot I’d been—to think I could separate Ricardo from “Ricky.”
I told myself: once I get home, I’ll burn those letters first thing.
“Whatever you feel for me, my lord… it won’t last.”
I’d already sensed what he wanted, but still pretended not to know. I’d convinced myself it was friendship.
As if that were enough.
But I knew—there’s no such thing as unconditional affection. And I didn’t even deserve affection that came with conditions.
“Countess Linton.”
I thought he would get angry. People usually did, when they showed kindness and it wasn’t returned.
But in the end, they always moved on. Maybe they’d frown when we crossed paths later, but that was it.
I used to tell myself—See? I knew they would leave.
“I sometimes have drinks with Matias,”
Ricardo said suddenly.
“He mentioned he was worried about you. Said your friend tried to reach out, but you didn’t answer. That’s how I found out.”
“Matias… You mean Sir Juan?”
It sounded like a lie. Or at least an excuse that didn’t quite add up.
Ricardo was the heir to a ducal house—arrogant enough to earn scorn from others. And I was supposed to believe he had drinks with a knight?
Sir Juan was quiet and indifferent toward most people. Even when I asked him to take Justin as a page, he’d refused multiple times, saying he didn’t like having people around.
Only after I brought up Edgar did he reluctantly agree.
“Why aren’t you angry?”
I asked, stupidly.
Ricardo looked confused for a second—then chuckled.
“So that’s the kind of man I am to you. Got it.”
“That’s not what I meant—”
“If someone demands trust without earning it, then gets angry when they don’t get it… you should walk away from that person right away.”
I was speechless. I wasn’t used to this kind of patience.
“You’ve already been more than kind to me, my lord.”
“Have I?”
Ricardo laughed softly.
“Seems like we experienced the same situations… very differently.”
It was something he’d said before.
The day we ran into Edgar and Elodie at the plaza, and ended up sitting at the same table.
That day, he insisted on walking me home, even when I said I preferred to go alone.
“All I want is the honor of being your friend.”
“Why?”
“Because animals recognize their own kind.”
He answered with a bitter smile.
“Besides, the role I want right now doesn’t hurt you—legally or morally.”
His calm, golden eyes met mine.
The emptiness in them weighed on me. I nodded, feeling small beneath it.
“You should go. If we stay any longer, it won’t affect me—but you’ll be the one caught in a scandal.”
Without hesitation, Ricardo turned and walked out of the maze.
“Wait.”
I called after him once I was sure Sarah wasn’t at the entrance.
“You said… ‘the role you want right now’?”
Ricardo stood with the sun behind him.
“Yes. For now. I’m satisfied with this role—for the time being, Countess Linton.”
His voice was calm. But his face was hidden in shadow, and I couldn’t tell what he really meant.
