12.
And then, he walked away.
Bella did not miss the sneer that lingered at the end of his words.
*Just now, did he laugh at me?*
She wanted to believe she was being hypersensitive, that it meant nothing, but no matter how she turned it over, she arrived at the same distressing conclusion.
Cedric knew the true intentions of the House of Listerwell, which had made a show of sending Harriet to the convent. He knew that Bella’s approach was merely a secondary act. Worse, her appearance and the rubies she wore were meaningless to him. In his eyes, the entire House of Listerwell was worthless.
Bella’s tightly clenched fist trembled. She had never been so insulted; she had never known such shame.
*How much prettier do I have to be? How much more famous do I have to become?*
She had climbed from being the daughter of an insignificant branch of a viscount family to the young lady of the official house, becoming the toast of high society and one of its most sought-after brides. Yet, it felt as though nothing had changed since the days she was dismissed as merely “Harriet’s cousin.”
“Bella, come here! I’ll introduce you to my friends.”
The image of young Harriet smiling and beckoning in the sparkling sunlight flashed before her eyes. The memory of that day when she had wanted to snatch away everything that belonged to her.
It felt as though the inferiority she had buried deep down was prying open its own coffin, and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. She didn’t even notice someone approaching to pour her champagne.
“My Lady. Are you all right?”
At the gentle voice, Bella snapped back to reality.
As she turned, a man she recognized was looking at her with a concerned expression.
*James Cheslow?*
The eldest son of the House of Count Cheslow, Daphne Laurel’s fiancé. The very man who owned the brooch that had nearly been pinned to Harriet’s dress.
Bella softened her features and loosened her clenched fist.
“Ah, I apologize. I felt a bit dizzy for a moment…”
“Oh dear! May I offer you my arm?”
He set down his glass and extended his arm. She hadn’t taken much interest in him before, but seeing him now, he was quite dashing—and unlike others, his manners were impeccable. Moreover, the House of Count Cheslow held significant power.
*Daphne is lucky. Good family, wealth, beauty. She even has a perfect fiancé. How annoying.*
But at that moment, a familiar, predatory thought struck her—the same one that had changed her life years ago.
*I can just take him.*
Bella’s life was a record of fierce struggle and conquest. Whenever she wanted something, she had obtained it by any means necessary.
They said the House of Kaylas was beyond reach, but the House of Count Cheslow…?
*It’s worth a try.*
And who knew? If she became the woman James Cheslow pined for, perhaps Cedric Kaylas would finally look at her in a new light.
With her mind made up, Bella fluttered her eyelashes and offered a weak, delicate smile.
“Would it be all right to cause you such trouble…”
“Trouble, you say? Turning a blind eye to a lady in distress is hardly the duty of a gentleman.”
Bella hesitantly placed her hand on James’s forearm, as if she had no other choice.
“I will gratefully accept your kindness. By the way, I am Bella Listerwell.”
“Is there any man who does not know the young lady’s name? I am James Cheslow.”
“I have seen you from afar, but this is our first formal meeting. Thank you again… oh, I feel dizzy…”
James quickly steadied her shoulder as she swayed intentionally.
“My Lady, shouldn’t I call for a physician…!”
“O-oh, no. I don’t want to cause a scene. If you don’t mind, could you please escort me to the guest parlor?”
“Of course.”
He led her toward the parlor, looking the very model of a gentleman. He likely never imagined that his entire future was about to be overturned in that room.
* * *
Most assume that life in a convent is monotonous and peaceful. In some ways they are right, and in others, they are dead wrong. How could total peace exist in a place where people live and breathe?
Catherine gathered the others to clear her cluttered mind.
“The reason I have called you today is to discuss matters concerning Sister Harriet.”
Catherine looked around at those most connected to Harriet: the sub-prioress Agnes, Emma who had guided her, and Sophia from the soap workshop.
“What do you all think of Sister Harriet?”
Three months after taking in high society’s most notorious troublemaker, they had to admit that Harriet was not what they expected.
The woman once called a nuisance, a scandal maker, and a stain on the House of Listerwell was, in practice, quieter, kinder, and more diligent than the other ladies in residence. She was so decent that it made one wonder why she had been exiled at all.
“Honestly, I am skeptical that the rumors about her are even true, Mother. A woman supposedly ‘crazy about men’ hasn’t mentioned the opposite sex even once in three months.”
Sophia, who spent the most time with her, defended her.
“But the only man in our convent is the elderly stableman,” Agnes countered. “Isn’t it just that there was no occasion to discuss such things?”
“That may be, but she hasn’t even complained about the lack of company. She doesn’t ask after anyone else’s romantic life, nor does she seem interested.”
The defense continued.
“I felt displeased at first as well, but she has a softer heart than I thought.”
“Why do you say that, Emma?”
“When I brought her food and clothes on the first day, I heard her crying. It didn’t sound like the wailing of the wronged or resentful; it sounded purely sad. And…”
Emma, who had brought Harriet to her room, recalled the day she couldn’t bring herself to open the door.
“She was whispering, ‘Father, please take me with you too’…”
Everyone knew Harriet had lost her parents and been taken in by her uncle. The words clearly meant she had been wishing for death.
“Are you saying she uttered words that made light of the life God gave her, in a place that serves His will?”
“But Mother, I know what that feeling is like.”
Emma did not lower her eyes, even though she couldn’t bring herself to look Catherine in the face. Like Harriet, she had spent her childhood moving from relative to relative after losing her parents. She knew how miserable it was to eat under the constant scrutiny of others, and how difficult it was to stand tall when you were treated as a burden because you had no parents.
“Every time I realized that no one truly loved me… I thought there was no meaning in living. I don’t think it’s any different for a noble.”
“She could have realized her own fortune by thinking of those who lost their parents and endured even harsher lives.”
“That may be, but…”
As Emma trailed off, Agnes chimed in.
“There are few who can be grateful for their present while looking down at those in deeper hardship. It is human nature to always compare oneself to those who have more.”
“And Sister Harriet is only twenty-one,” Sophia added. “She hasn’t even been exposed to God before this.”
Thanks to the mounting consensus, the sharp corners of Catherine’s eyes softened.
“Sigh… If you all say so, I suppose my judgment was not entirely off.”
She held no ill feelings toward Harriet. She had been strict, assigning her the labor of the lowliest nuns in case she proved to be a troublemaker, but Harriet had accepted it with docility and worked without complaint.
*I thought she would at least say a word about being the only one assigned such tasks.*
When Harriet hadn’t protested, Catherine began to wonder if the information provided by the Viscount Listerwell might be distorted. In his letter, he had claimed that because he pitied her, he had spoiled her, leaving her immature and self-willed. If that were the case, she wouldn’t have accepted a penal labor assignment with such calm, quiet grace.
It had been strange from the moment she first arrived. People usually shed tears of fear or resentment upon entering a convent. But to be unable to quickly wipe away those tears and lift one’s head—that was a sight rarely seen among noble ladies.
*Like a child who was always scolded whenever they cried…*
Catherine let out a long sigh. Every time she thought of Harriet, she couldn’t help it.
“The initial reason for assigning her such work was for reflection and behavioral correction. But having watched her all this time, there seems to be no reason to treat her any differently than the other young ladies.”