Chapter 49.
“It seems I nearly became an aggressor toward you again. But I know that you are no longer that kind of woman. Please forgive my thoughtless intrusion.”
The statement was a surprise.
*‘What could you possibly know about me?’*
It was true, of course, but it was only natural for him to still believe that Harriet Listerwell was a Scandal Maker.
“How did you come to that realization?”
“If you were still the same, you would have been clinging to Duke Kaylas at the Vanderbilt party. Ah—well, that’s a bit of a crude way to put it, but what I mean is……”
“Oh, I understand.”
Julian had clearly assumed Harriet would not have let go of Cedric, who had approached specifically to drive her away. The fact that she hadn’t given Cedric any room—and that this had somehow moved Julian—was what he meant.
*‘And that is proof of my reform? What a ridiculous man.’*
The very fact that he had been watching Cedric and her was beyond creepy. He was a man with a polished exterior, but inside, he was a hollow shell of prejudice and fragile ego.
If she were to develop a relationship with another man, he would surely flip his attitude and start criticizing her, simply because she had rejected his “courageous” confession.
*‘I shouldn’t feel guilty about using this man.’*
Harriet smiled brightly and opened her parasol.
“The sun is quite strong.”
“Ah, give it here. I shall hold it for you.”
“I couldn’t possibly cause such a nuisance. If Julian were to hold the parasol for the troublesome Harriet Listerwell, what would that make you?”
“It would make me a gentleman extending kindness to a lady. Please, hand it over.”
As if he were her personal escort, he snatched the parasol and made sure no sunlight touched her.
Harriet walked half a step ahead, with Julian Faith continuing to engage her in conversation. Looking at the two of them, no one would have mistaken who was clinging to whom.
And in the distance, Bella watched the scene with wide, startled eyes.
* * *
“Ah, you’ve arrived, Viscount Kingsley!”
“I’ve told you to call me Benedict. Haha.”
“How could I! Just being a member of the same club is an honor.”
Since Cedric had inherited his title, Benedict Kingsley had been invited to higher-class gentlemen’s clubs, and for a newcomer, he was a significantly welcomed figure. After all, he was the man who had a duke for a nephew.
Back when Rowan was the Duke, the perception that the House of Kaylas belonged to Princess Jeremiah was so strong that Benedict didn’t derive much benefit from his connection.
However, after Rowan died and his nephew Cedric became Duke, the expectation that Benedict would have a great influence over him began to circulate, and invitations to several respectable gentlemen’s clubs started to arrive.
The members of , which he had chosen from among them, were mostly people known for their wealth rather than their titles or reputation.
*‘In this day and age, money is supreme. It’s far more profitable to associate with those who value practical gains than with hypocrites who obsess over social standing and honor.’*
It was an era where a noble without money was no different from a commoner. It was an era where wealthy commoners were encroaching upon the positions of the nobility.
In such times, the portfolio of a family mattered far more than its pedigree.
The members of each had at least one business venture they could boast of, and Benedict had joined with the hope of being included in their circles.
However, the members, who had become little more than merchants, demanded a “down payment.” They meant that if one wanted to gain something, one had to show what they could do for the club first.
Of course, they were much wealthier than the House of Kingsley, and they all wanted the same thing from Benedict.
“I heard the House of Kaylas will soon be handling the Alkines reclamation project, but not all the partner companies have been decided yet.”
“Ah, I believe I heard the same.”
“Ahem! You see, the truth is, my son owns a lumber business. He’s quite skilled. It’s just that he lacks connections, so he hasn’t made a name for himself yet… Could you perhaps put in a recommendation for him, Viscount Kingsley?”
Another solicitation had arrived today.
Benedict brushed the back of his neck and laughed as if he were in a difficult spot.
“Haha, well, who am I to…”
“You are the one and only uncle of Duke Kaylas! Princess Jeremiah doesn’t have much interest in the affairs of the Duchy, and it’s said that Duke Kaylas handles most of the business himself. In such a situation, isn’t it you, Viscount Kingsley, whom the Duke relies on?”
“That boy is quite pitiful, really. To have to shoulder such a large Duchy at such a young age…”
“Exactly, so wouldn’t it ease the Duke’s burden if you were to provide appropriate advice and recommendations?”
Laughter and flattery were exchanged, though beneath it all lay sharp calculations and psychological games.
“Well, I will bring it up, but don’t hold your expectations too high. The final decision rests entirely with Cedric, after all.”
“Thank you, Viscount! The time for harvesting potatoes on your estate is coming soon, isn’t it? Just say the word once the harvest is over. We will lend you our merchant ships free of charge.”
Benedict waved his hand and refused the offer. He played the part of a man of great conscience, claiming he couldn’t accept favors when he wasn’t sure if his recommendation would even succeed.
He knew very well that such an attitude could win the favor and trust of the other party.
As expected, other members began to show interest in Benedict.
“I heard your son started a new business recently? I’ve heard rumors that it seems quite promising.”
“I’m not entirely sure myself. I just gave him a little money to let him learn through experience as part of his succession training, but he seems to have developed an interest in the sick—he said something about trying to make medicine.”
“How excellent! If it’s a pharmaceutical company, that’s one of the industries with the most future potential, isn’t it?”
With the installation of water and sewage facilities in the city and a growing awareness of cleanliness and hygiene, life expectancy had increased significantly.
Because of this, diseases that in the past would have required prayers at the temple or a shaman were now considered manageable, and interest in pharmacology had grown.
Of course, quack apothecaries, ingredients with unclear effects, and haphazard dosages were becoming problems, but the Empire was a field that spared no support for the pharmaceutical industry.
“Your son must have an eye for the future as well; the tomorrow of the House of Kingsley is bright indeed. Hahaha!”
“I thank you for that evaluation, but well, my son’s business is still in its infancy.”
Despite his modest words, Benedict was very well aware of Albert’s business and had been sparing no support.
It had been a piece of unprecedented luck that Albert had happened to hear about the folk remedies of the Pirma Kingdom from a woman from that land.
Since she even knew an apothecary from Pirma—her father—he only had to import the medicine he produced, so he didn’t even have to spend money on research.
“Father! This is incredible! It leaves no hangover, and it makes you feel so much better than alcohol! Just wait and see. Before long, everyone will be clamoring to buy this medicine.”
Although they were packaging it outwardly as a painkiller or a treatment for depression, the most anticipated feature of , the drug that utilized Darschenger herbs, was the increase in sexual desire.
Since nobles who indulged in nightlife would consume even the most bizarre foods if they heard it would heighten their libido, how much would they crave this medicine that promised to keep one’s desires burning all night with just a simple dose?
*‘ will be famous soon. When that time comes, everyone who didn’t step up to invest will regret it.’*
He and Albert were waiting for the moment when people’s desire for reached its peak. Once that happened, they would be able to scrape together an enormous amount of money.
The only thing that concerned him was that they didn’t know the exact side effects of the medicine.
“If you rely too much on Darschenger, you will eventually be unable to live without it. If you use a proper amount of Darschenger on someone who is insane with grief, you can save them, but if they cannot let go of the Darschenger, they will go mad again from withdrawal symptoms.”
Even the apothecary who warned him couldn’t describe the withdrawal symptoms precisely. He said they might shake, or not be able to sleep, or perhaps sing strange songs or dance.
*‘If that’s all it is, it shouldn’t be much of a problem.’*
Of course, he couldn’t abandon this venture for fear of withdrawal symptoms. Since other medicines also had side effects and required proper dosage, there was no reason for him to feel any guilt.
*‘Gaining fame with is for later. For now, I should try recommending the lumber company owned by the son of Viscount Livingston to Cedric.’*
Since they said the company was skilled, Cedric wouldn’t necessarily refuse, Benedict thought confidently.