20.
Harriet spoke first.
Duke Cedric Kaylas scrutinized her appearance, which hardly belonged to a noble lady, and only opened his mouth just as Harriet’s patience was about to snap.
“I have heard the news.”
“What news?”
She asked, even though she knew the answer.
Cedric, seemingly deeming it unnecessary to elaborate, changed the subject entirely.
“It wasn’t my intention, but I feel a degree of responsibility for this matter. Therefore, if you wish to enter the clergy, I intend to cover your seminary tuition and living expenses.”
“Pardon?”
“If you prefer to live as a commoner, I will provide an equivalent sum for your initial settlement costs.”
Harriet stared at Cedric, stunned by the unexpected offer.
He didn’t seem to be mocking her, nor was there a trace of sarcasm in his tone, but she asked again simply because she couldn’t believe it.
“Are you serious?”
“Is there anyone who jokes about such things?”
“Yes.”
My uncle did, for one.
Harriet barely swallowed the words rising to her throat, and she had the quiet pleasure of watching Cedric wear a rather perplexed expression.
He quickly regained his composure, however.
“I am not joking. However, there is a condition.”
As expected, she thought. But the condition he proposed could hardly be called a hardship.
“That you do not mention my name elsewhere. Including the commotion on the day we last met.”
“Ah.”
Harriet nodded blankly, then let out a scoff.
“Are you afraid of that? That I might go around spreading word of how I resent you, Your Grace?”
She wasn’t the least bit afraid, even when Cedric glared at her with narrowed eyes.
If she intended to return to Genoa, she should have kept a low profile. But having only recently learned the truth about her parents’ death, her focus had narrowed to a single, burning point.
“I truly thank you for the offer, but I will decline. Ah! Don’t worry about me sullying your name, either. I won’t say a single word about you.”
“……Did you find that condition offensive?”
“It wasn’t pleasant. But that is not the only reason for my refusal.”
The smile vanished from Harriet’s lips.
“I am not going to become a nun. To please whom? I will return, and I will definitely……!”
She clenched her fists tightly.
She didn’t carelessly let the word ‘revenge’ fall from her lips. She couldn’t trust the man sitting in front of her.
As she gritted her teeth, suppressing the surge of rage, Cedric asked.
“Even if you return to Genoa, you will need capital.”
“I’ll manage somehow with the money I have now.”
“My Lady.”
He let out a sigh.
“Exerting your pride in this situation is not a very wise choice.”
At that, sparks flew in Harriet’s eyes.
“I have lived my whole life without pride. And the result was this. So now, I intend to hold onto it. Why? Is it laughable?”
Cedric stared at Harriet for a long while with a rigid face. Harriet met his gaze without backing down.
In the end, it was Cedric who lowered his eyes first.
“I did not intend to hurt your self-esteem. If that is your firm will, then so be it.”
He stood up from his seat, as if his business at St. Clarissa’s Convent were entirely finished.
* * *
After Cedric left, Harriet returned to her room and pulled the blanket over her head. It wasn’t to cry, but simply because it was cold.
She had barely managed to keep her hands from freezing thanks to the hand warmers someone had given her, but she was still critically short on winter supplies.
‘If only I had brought a muffler or gloves, I would have accepted those.’
Harriet grumbled and bundled herself tightly in the thin bedding.
She had put on a brave front for the Duke, but the reality of her situation was grim. If even a man who despised her came to offer charity, what did that signify?
‘It means the rumor that Harriet Listerwell is finished has spread far and wide.’
She made up her mind to write a letter asking ‘that person’ for guardianship as soon as possible.
‘I met her when I was young, but…… will she remember me?’
The person Harriet had chosen after days of deliberation was Vanderbilt. She was the Iron Lady who held the House of Count Felon all to herself, and Harriet’s great-aunt.
Perhaps because her husband had been frail, or due to the tradition of the Felon family where children were rare, the two had no heirs, and her husband had passed away over ten years ago.
In the past, the title would have passed to the nearest male relative the moment the husband died, but recently, there had been precedents for a wife succeeding as the head of the house.
In such cases, the wife could reign as head of the family until an heir was settled, and Trisha was precisely such a case.
‘The fact that she has no family other than herself means that Trisha is the only person I need to win over.’
Isn’t that much easier than persuading an entire family?
However, there was a problem. She was famous for being eccentric.
According to rumors, her personality had become increasingly harsh and arrogant after losing her husband. She wouldn’t hesitate to turn away guests who had traveled from afar if they displeased her, and she was prone to sudden whims and blatant insults.
‘She might burn the letter to ashes the moment she sees my name.’
Even so, the reason she decided to contact her first was because of a brief, distant memory from the past.
“Hello? I am Harriet of Listerwell. It is a pleasure to meet you, Great-Aunt.”
“Goodness, Arthur, you wicked thing! To think you haven’t shown me such a precious child until now! Looking at those sparkling eyes, she must be a very clever child.”
The Trisha she met for the first time had welcomed her much more warmly than she had expected.
That was almost the entirety of her memory, but she had no choice but to pin her hopes on it.
Harriet climbed down from the bed with the blanket wrapped around her and sat at the table. The stationery and pen she had taken out yesterday were waiting.
She quickly rubbed her hands together to warm them before picking up the pen. It had been hard to reach the decision, but writing the letter itself was easy.
‘To my dear…… Great-Aunt Trisha…….’
Harriet tried to write as neatly as possible. She couldn’t afford to be nitpicked over such trifles.
Considering her age—in her mid-sixties—she wrote a greeting expressing concern for her health and added a brief anecdote to recall the memory of their only meeting.
But fearing that rambling would make her look like a swindler, she got straight to the point.
「……Since my reputation is rife in the Genoa social circles, if you are the wise Great-Aunt I remember, you might have already guessed why I am writing this letter.
I will be blunt. Great-Aunt, would you perhaps be willing to become my guardian? Two years of guardianship would be enough…….」
She also promised not to be a nuisance.
All she needed was a place to eat and sleep, and the qualifications to re-enter social circles; there was nothing Trisha needed to do.
Of course, even that could leave an impression of being shameless.
‘If a great-niece whose reputation has hit rock bottom due to a scandal suddenly sends a letter like this, most would probably be dumbfounded.’
Or perhaps they would pity her.
Either way, a reply would come soon.
‘If Great-Aunt Trisha refuses, then I’ll write to Great-Uncle Jeremiah and Uncle Daniel, and if they refuse too, I’ll try my relatives on my mother’s side.’
The uncles would likely refuse out of fear of Uncle John, and her mother’s relatives would be uncomfortable because they were distant. She knew it, but she had no choice but to cling to them.
‘I have to hope that someone with a kind heart will offer a hand, even if reluctantly.’
Thinking of relatives whose names were barely familiar, the hopelessness of her situation hit her anew.
She briefly wondered if she should have swallowed her pride and accepted Cedric’s offer, but Harriet shook her head.
‘If I take that money, I’ll never be able to hold my head up in front of him again.’
Going forward, she didn’t want to bow her head submissively to anyone. The result of being perpetually subservient to the uncle who offered to pay her dowry was reason enough.
‘It will work out somehow. If I get rejected by everyone…… then I’ll have to go there myself and beg.’
Resolved even to wait at someone’s doorstep for days if necessary, Harriet folded the letter and put it in an envelope. Tomorrow was the day the mail carriage arrived.
* * *
The bustling, vibrant atmosphere of the Feast Day week continued into the days welcoming the New Year.
During this period, people visited the homes of relatives and hosted small parties with acquaintances. It was also the busiest time for the post office, as cards and letters inquiring after one another increased.
Andre, the butler of the House of Count Felon, was untying a bundle of letters brought by the postal employee, sorting those to be presented to his mistress and those to be handled at his own discretion.
“There are so many letters. Does the Madam read all of them?”
The maid cleaning nearby asked.