14.
“Whenever she went to a masquerade, Bella wore a mask that concealed most of her face and dresses that kept her skin carefully hidden. And when she met the men she’d seduced in the gardens, she always wore a robe.”
The men she had caressed—even kissed—wanted to meet Bella in the bright light of day as well. But Bella, who only craved the thrill of a single night and the high-level intelligence those men possessed, refused to give them an audience.
And through it all, Harriet served as the perfect shield.
“It was my niece’s doing. Bella wasn’t feeling well that day; she couldn’t even leave her bed, let alone attend a ball. It seems Harriet took Bella’s invitation and went in her stead.”
John spoke with feigned regret to the men who arrived at the estate. Naturally, their frustration quickly curdled into fury.
However, they were too embarrassed to admit they had been played by someone as insignificant as Harriet, so they kept their mouths shut. This silence only led more men to fall for the exact same trick.
“For the past three years, I have been the ‘Scandal Maker’ of society in that very way.”
“Why didn’t you clarify the truth?”
“I wanted to. If my uncle hadn’t threatened to kick me out of the house for speaking up, I would have.”
Harriet offered a bitter smile.
She had begged Bella to stop, but Bella never listened.
“How was I supposed to know he would come all the way to the house? Regardless, I extracted useful information for Father, so I did my job.”
It meant the rest was ‘her business.’
When she protested, her uncle would only frown and scold her.
“If it’s not for things like this, what else can you do for our family? You have to earn your keep, don’t you!”
What started as a favor to Bella had eventually become a matter of course.
Yet, the final scandal was something she still couldn’t fathom.
“I don’t know how Duke Kaylas’s brooch ended up attached to my skirt at the victory banquet. I don’t know who played such a prank…”
Harriet’s story ended with a long, weary sigh. Seeing the silence grow heavy, she smiled as if embarrassed.
“It all sounds like a lie, doesn’t it?”
Catherine and Agnes wore complex expressions.
They were taught that one must listen to both sides of a story, but these accounts were miles apart. Yet, they felt Harriet’s version carried more weight.
‘If Harriet really had been impersonating her cousin to smear the family name, the Viscount Listerwell, who holds guardianship over her, wouldn’t have let it go on for three years.’
Perhaps he doted on the niece who lost her parents, but regardless, wasn’t Viscount Listerwell responsible?
Yet, as soon as a problem arose that he couldn’t handle, he cut Harriet loose and dumped her into the convent.
Catherine asked, unable to smooth the furrow in her brow.
“If it’s not a lie, that’s even more worrying. Is there any guarantee that the same thing won’t happen again when you return next year?”
Harriet bit her lip and whispered.
“I just have to hope that Bella gets married soon. If we aren’t living in the same house, Bella won’t be able to use me as her proxy.”
Until then, she could only pray that Bella would behave.
Harriet felt a renewed sense of helplessness. She felt as if she had nowhere left to go. As long as her uncle remained her guardian, she was like a dog on a leash, unable to escape the House of Listerwell. Her heart ached.
* * *
Twenty-one-year-old Daphne Laurel was a delicate, elegant beauty with dazzling silver hair and mysterious purple eyes.
She was the precious daughter of the House of Laurel, which owned massive crystal mines, and she was engaged to the eldest son of the House of Count Cheslow.
While considered a society beauty since youth, her early engagement and shy personality meant she didn’t lead followers around like Bella. She was, for the most part, satisfied with her fiancé, James.
But that affectionate, earnest man had been acting strange lately.
「My dear Daphne,
It seems it will be difficult to promise a meeting this weekend as well. My friends kept insisting, so I have decided to go hunting in Herbos Forest.
I will be sure to catch a pretty fox for your winter scarf.
– Wishing you health, James」
The messenger brought news that was, once again, disappointing.
‘It’s been a month since we last met…’
He had never gone this long without seeing her. Even when buried in succession studies or mandatory military training, James had always found a way to visit.
Furthermore, there was a jarring shift in his tone.
‘My dear Daphne. Wishing you health, James.’
The openings and closings of his letters were colder.
Previously, ‘My beloved Daphne’ was the standard, often adorned with love-struck modifiers like ‘the one I dream of,’ ‘my goddess,’ and ‘master of my soul.’
The sign-offs had once been equally fervent: ‘Your eternal servant,’ ‘A heart aching with longing,’ or ‘The luckiest man in this world.’
But ‘My dear’ and ‘Wishing you health’? Those were the clinical expressions one reserved for business acquaintances.
‘No. Maybe he decided to write more maturely since we aren’t children anymore.’
The various social commitments he claimed were also understandable. He needed to manage his connections to solidify his position as heir.
Even as she tried to calm her mind, the uneasiness she felt when they last met kept rising to the surface. It had felt as though his mind were occupied elsewhere.
“I want to make a bouquet with flowers from the garden. I’m thinking of planting hydrangeas or peonies where I removed some of the roses—which would be better?”
“I’m not sure. Either one would probably be fine.”
“Oh! It would be best to hold the wedding at Elvinas Temple, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, well…”
Though he nodded, his gaze was fixed on his drink, his replies distant.
‘Is something wrong?’
Daphne worried for him. Since he had always been so exuberant about their engagement, she assumed that if he couldn’t focus with his lover right in front of him, something must be weighing heavily on his soul.
News that blindsided Daphne reached her a few days later.
“Welcome, Melody! Is something wrong? You caught me off guard with your request for an urgent meeting.”
Daphne greeted her friend, Melody Luce, who had sent a note demanding they meet as soon as possible. But there wasn’t a hint of a smile on Melody’s face.
“Daphne. I need to talk with you in private. It’s a truly urgent matter.”
“O-okay. I’ll send the maids away.”
After dismissing her staff, Daphne offered a drink to Melody, who looked visibly troubled.
“At least drink this and catch your breath.”
Instead of touching the glass, Melody grabbed Daphne’s hand. Her eyes were clouded with concern.
“Everything I say from now on is neither a lie nor a mistake. You trust me, right?”
“Of course I do. But why are you like this? You’re starting to scare me…”
“Daphne. My family went for a picnic in Herbos Forest last weekend.”
“I know. You mentioned it was for an autumn outing before the cold set in.”
Daphne nodded, her large, innocent eyes wide. She had no idea what kind of bomb was about to drop.
Melody sighed.
“While we were there… I saw the young master of the Cheslow family.”
“Ah! You ran into James? He said he was going hunting in Herbos Forest with his friends. But you had a picnic near the hunting grounds? That must have been dangerous.”
Melody shook her head violently.
“Hunting? Do you know of any hunting that involves having a woman by your side?”
“What?”
“Sir James was with Bella Listerwell! It didn’t look like they were just acquaintances.”
For a moment, Daphne could only stare blankly, her words failing her.
“There was no one else but the servants attending to them. They didn’t seem to notice us, but they didn’t seem to care much about the gaze of others, either.”
“That, that can’t be…”
“Before rumors spread further, you must call Sir James and give him a stern warning. Even if you have to ask Count Laurel for help.”
Melody’s concern was justified.
Daphne’s engagement had been five years in the making, and as both were prominent houses, everyone blessed them as a perfect match.
Although the wedding had been delayed for Daphne’s youth and James’s succession studies, they had planned to finally marry next year. There wasn’t a soul who didn’t know the news.
‘A picnic with another woman at a time like this?’