Chapter 9
The tea had long gone cold—now just the right temperature to drink—but I had no better distraction.
“I can’t possibly accept such valuable tickets for free. I’ll buy them myself.”
Edgar didn’t bother to offer again.
“I’ve heard the Countess of Linton has been in poor health and rarely leaves the house?”
The arrow suddenly turned my way.
Startled, I looked up from the swirling tea in my cup.
“Yes. My health wasn’t great, so the Earl was very considerate toward me.”
I didn’t know why Edgar was so upset—but I prayed he wouldn’t carry that anger home.
I had no energy left for another fight.
“But it seems your health has improved if you’re preparing a banquet?”
Ricardo followed up swiftly.
“Yes, much better. Thank you for your concern.”
Edgar’s expression was tightening with every word.
“We haven’t known each other long,” Ricardo said, “but I get the feeling that Lady Linton and I will become good friends.”
We hadn’t even known each other for a week.
This was only the second time we’d seen each other face-to-face.
“If it’s alright, I’d love to gift you tickets to Elodie’s performance.”
“Cecilia,” Edgar finally spoke, voice taut, “isn’t yet well enough for extended outings, Lord Ricardo.”
His restrained tone startled Elodie, and I flinched too.
“But it’d be lovely if she came, Edgar…”
Elodie whispered. But with all four of us seated at such a small table, her voice was easily heard.
Ricardo let out a dry laugh.
“Ah, forgive me.”
Elodie, tense and flustered, didn’t seem to realize she’d slipped.
“I wasn’t mocking anyone. It’s just… I couldn’t help but notice. The Countess calls her husband ‘the Earl,’ formally. Miss Elodie, on the other hand, uses his given name. I still have a lot to learn about social customs, it seems.”
Edgar glared sharply at Ricardo.
“Elodie and I are close friends.”
“Of course,” Ricardo agreed solemnly. “True friendship unbound by social status.”
“I believe it. That your friendship is a perfectly wholesome one.”
I felt exhaustion setting in.
The guilt in Elodie’s eyes wasn’t welcome, either.
It wasn’t sympathy born of understanding—but the pity of someone fully aware that she held a far superior position.
If she had at least been brazen or self-assured, it would’ve been easier to deal with.
Instead, I felt like the foolish woman who’d wedged herself between two people with a bond far stronger than mine.
If their relationship had started before the marriage, it wouldn’t be an outlandish guess.
“I’d really love to give you the tickets,” Elodie said, almost pleading. Her hands, clasped in front of her chest, mirrored her desperate tone.
“El…”
Edgar’s voice was low as he called her name.
Elodie looked at him, eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“What’s wrong with inviting your friend’s wife? Right, Lady Linton?”
She addressed the question to me—but her eyes never left Edgar.
Honestly, I was tired of this. Better to just give them what they wanted.
“Yes, I’ll go.”
“Really?”
Ignoring Edgar’s stunned look, I calmly answered again.
“It would be rude to refuse a gift, and as Miss Elodie said, there’s nothing strange about attending the performance of my husband’s friend.”
Since we were on the topic, I figured I might as well address Ricardo as well.
“Why don’t you come too, Lord Ricardo? Our seats may not be as luxurious as the Bastian duchy’s box, but the Linton box is still a decent spot.”
Ricardo stared at me for a moment, then suddenly burst into loud laughter, slapping the table.
Every thud of his palm sent the teacups rattling.
“Of course. How could I refuse such a gracious invitation from the Countess of Linton?”
“You can, actually.”
I met his gaze firmly.
“We’re not friends, nor even acquaintances, really. Declining wouldn’t offend me.”
“No, no,” Ricardo said, waving his hands dramatically.
“I want to be your acquaintance—and friend. How could I waste such a rare opportunity now that you’ve offered it?”
I had no clue what this man was scheming.
And I was too tired to care.
“Have you told Miss Elodie about the banquet yet?”
Trying to wrap things up, I brought the conversation back around.
“Not yet.”
Edgar’s voice was stiff. I waited, expecting him to ask her directly.
But no matter how long I waited, he didn’t say a word.
After an awkward silence, I had no choice but to extend the invitation myself.
“Miss Elodie, we’ll be hosting a banquet soon. It would be an honor if you’d attend.”
“Pardon? Me?”
Elodie jumped in surprise, dropping her teaspoon with a sharp clink.
“It was the Earl who suggested it first. Once I heard it, I thought it was a good idea too.”
I pulled out my notebook and checked the calendar.
“I know you’re busy, Miss Elodie. That’s why I’d like to schedule the banquet according to your availability. A day when you’re not performing, when you’re well-rested, and when it won’t affect your next show—I think that would be ideal for everyone.”
The silence that followed made my words trail off awkwardly.
Three pairs of eyes were now focused entirely on me.
“I… I…”
Tears began to well up and fall from Elodie’s eyes. I was taken aback.
“I’m sorry. I should go.”
Like a tragic heroine, she pushed back her chair and ran out of the café.
“El!”
Edgar stood instinctively, then froze and turned to glare at me.
“Was that really necessary?”
His question came like a reprimand—but I had no idea what for.
“Did humiliating her in public make you feel better?”
“Me?”
I blinked in confusion and looked to Ricardo, who just shrugged.
So much for wanting to be friends—he had no intention of getting involved in the fallout.
“I only asked if she could attend the banquet.”
“To entertain the guests with her singing, right?”
Edgar’s tone was biting. I was even more confused.
He was the one who first suggested inviting Elodie.
“Elodie is my friend. At the very least, she shouldn’t be humiliated in front of others.”
With those words, Edgar stormed out after her.
Not understanding why he was so upset, I shook my head and drank the now-cold tea in a single gulp.
“Even with a husband like that, it still stings, huh?” Ricardo asked.
“No. I just didn’t want to waste it. It’s cooled to the perfect temperature, and I hate leaving good tea behind.”
Ricardo laughed and emptied his own cup as well.
“Shall we go?”
Startled, I looked at the hand he held out.
“Why?”
“I’m heading home.”
“So am I.”
He responded lightly.
“Exactly.”
“Exactly what?”
“I’m going to my home. You’re going to yours. Why are you acting like we’re going to the same place?”
Ricardo didn’t lower his hand.
“You misunderstood, Countess of Linton,” he said, now sounding mock-serious.
“I meant that my destination is the same as yours.”
“Excuse me? Why?”
I hadn’t invited him.
“I once heard that escorting an unaccompanied lady safely home is a nobleman’s duty.”
Despite the suspicion on my face, Ricardo didn’t budge. He smiled easily, but his outstretched hand remained firm—persistent, but not forceful.
He wouldn’t grab my hand, but he clearly had no intention of backing down either.
“Why?”
This time, I wasn’t asking why he’d see me home.
He seemed to pick up on what I really meant. Tilting his head thoughtfully, he played at thinking.
“Would it be offensive to say that you remind me of the fragile Duchess of Bastian?”
I shook my head.
I didn’t know the duchess personally, and I’d only heard vague rumors about her. I had no basis for offense.
“Good.”
I took his hand.
For a moment, his expression showed genuine surprise.
“Is that answer enough?”
“Not at all.”
We exited the café and climbed into Ricardo’s carriage.
Pascal still hadn’t shown up.
As the carriage pulled away, I finally offered the rest of my answer.
“I just don’t feel like thinking too hard today.”
I leaned my head against the windowpane.
The elegant hairstyle Sarah had fussed over was crushed, but I didn’t care.
“Too much happened today.”
“Really?”
Ricardo looked at me with mild curiosity, probably sensing my indifference.
“From where I’m sitting, it looks like nothing happened to you. I, on the other hand, witnessed a stunning woman being cast aside for a rather average one.”
I shifted to find a more comfortable position, then suddenly realized—
“I forgot Sarah.”
“If you mean your maid, she already went home.”
“When?”
Ricardo chuckled.
“Right after she saw that dramatic little lovers’ scene out in broad daylight. She ran off.”
I didn’t know Sarah well enough to say she wouldn’t have done that.
She acted like she was on my side, but her words often betrayed a tendency to keep Edgar’s opinion in mind.
So maybe she had run before she could get tangled in something uncomfortable.
“Aren’t you angry?”
“Why would I be?”
“Your maid abandoned you in a difficult moment.”
His pointed remark only deepened my fatigue.
Why was I having this conversation with someone I barely knew?
With heavy lids, I gave up and answered with my eyes closed.
“Sarah isn’t a loyal maid.”
“A spy for the Earl of Linton, then?”
“I meant she’s someone who knows how to look out for herself.”
And frankly, in this era, I think that’s what a maid should be.
Even the Countess—Cecilia—chose to end her life. Sarah’s life would have been far harsher.
“What if the Earl suddenly brings home a bastard child one day?”
Ricardo asked, sounding smug—like he’d hit a nerve.
