Chapter 2
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 2
“Baron Howard will be arriving tomorrow evening.”
The announcement came during a dinner meant to celebrate her twentieth birthday. Vanessa paused, her knife hovering over a slice of duck, and looked in bewilderment at her uncle, who sat at the head of the table. Dragged home by guards from a gambling den at dawn, he still reeked of whiskey and vomit.
As if parched, he gulped down his wine like water before letting out a loud belch. She had only returned from St. Louis Boarding School yesterday afternoon, making this their first reunion in three years, yet her uncle hadn't changed one bit.
Vanessa meekly lowered her gaze back to her plate.
“Will he be staying long?”
“I imagine so. The Baroness passed away a few months ago.”
Ah, that poor old woman. Vanessa had read about the tragedy in the newspaper just a few days ago. The Baroness had been struck by a carriage while crossing the street. The papers called it a terrible, tragic accident, but the testimony of those who had witnessed it firsthand was slightly different.
They said the Baroness had been fleeing in terror, unable to bear the cane brandished by her limping husband. Those who saw her throw herself in front of the carriage gossiped that it looked as if she saw death as her only escape. Vanessa didn't know which version was true, but either was enough to tarnish Baron Howard's reputation.
“You’ll need new clothes and jewelry to welcome the old man properly,” her uncle said, pulling his plate closer after draining the last of the wine a servant was holding. “Take the checkbook and use it. The bare minimum. Absolutely no extravagance.”
She stared at him, bewildered. The Baroness’s death was a terrible shame, but why would she need new clothes and jewelry just to welcome the Baron? What did he have to do with her?
Her train of thought derailed with a sickening lurch. Vanessa’s white hand, clutching her silverware, began to tremble.
“Are you saying…”
“That’s right. He’s in a hurry to find a new wife, apparently. It’s no easy task to manage an estate without a mistress, is it?” Wyatt said, spearing a large, greasy piece of duck and chewing it noisily. The red meat was torn to shreds beneath his fork and knife.
“Of course, I don’t plan on marrying you off right away. If someone presents a better offer than that old man, I’ll give them priority. To do that, you’ll have to meet as many men as possible. You’re going to be very busy for a while.”
The meaning behind his words was brutally clear. This was business—the business of marriage alliances—and she was the only product on display. Her stomach, which had barely touched any food, churned.
Vanessa bit her lip, noticing the anxious looks on the serving maids’ faces. Voicing opposition to the tyrant of Gloucester Castle was unwise. For her sake, and for theirs.
After taking a moment to calm her breathing, Vanessa spoke as if nothing were wrong.
“If he’s arriving tomorrow, his visit will overlap with my guests.”
“Your guests?” Wyatt’s eyes shot up as if he were hearing this for the first time. His face, a mixture of suspicion and wariness, demanded an explanation.
“As I mentioned in my last letter, the twins of the Winchester Marquessate.” Vanessa suppressed her anxiety and continued quickly. “They plan to leave on their Grand Tour after graduation but wanted to stay here for about a month to visit. You gave me permission last time… remember?”
A flicker of consideration crossed Wyatt’s face, which had been poised to refuse her outright. It was the magic of the name ‘Winchester’.
“…Fine. You handle that yourself.” The Count replied reluctantly, wagging a finger glistening with duck grease at her. “But don’t you even dream of neglecting our guest because of your friends.”
“Of course.”
Satisfied with her obedient answer, Wyatt reached for the next dish. After that, only the clatter of silverware filled the silence. The moment a young footman cleared the dessert plates, Vanessa immediately rose from her seat. She had stayed long enough to avoid upsetting her uncle.
“I’ll be taking my leave now.”
As expected, Wyatt nodded without even glancing at her. The last thing she saw before leaving the dining hall was her uncle pouring whiskey into his custard cream. Once out of the room, Vanessa’s calm walk quickened down the stairs, breaking into a run as she passed through the entrance hall.
She had to get to the garden. Now. It was the only place in Gloucester Castle where she could collect herself without being seen.
“Young Lady.”
Butler Harold blocked a panting Vanessa’s path. The old man’s wrinkled eyes keenly scrutinized her deathly pale face.
“You’ll hurt yourself running like that. Is there an urgent matter?”
Harold, who had a long scar from a blade running from his left eyebrow to his chin, was a butler Wyatt had hired seven years ago. He looked more like a gang enforcer than a proper servant. Vanessa shook her head lightly.
“No. Thank you for your concern.”
She kept a smile on her face, her hands clasped behind her back, as Harold’s gaze lingered on her. Apparently unable to find any fault, the butler pursed his lips in dissatisfaction.
“We will have guests soon. Such behavior is unseemly.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Are the preparations for my friends complete?”
“Your guests will be staying in the west wing to avoid encountering the others. We have prepared two bedrooms.”
“Others? Are more guests coming?”
“A few of the Count’s guests are scheduled to arrive. They will be staying in the east wing. He has ordered you to attend the evening banquet without fail for the duration of their stay.”
“…If my uncle said so, then I must obey. I understand.”
“Ah, and one more thing.” Harold stopped Vanessa again as she tried to pass. When she looked at him quizzically, he shook his head firmly. “Do not go out to the garden for the time being. The ground is uneven due to ongoing electrical work. We also have new workers from outside.”
“New workers?”
“Yes. We plan to renovate the abandoned annex, hunting grounds, and gardens, one by one.”
“Renovate? So suddenly?” Vanessa blinked. Her uncle spent lavishly on his own entertainment but begrudged every coin for anything else. He’d sold off all the family’s tenant lands to pay his debts, so where was this money coming from?
“We will prioritize the spaces for the guests. First, the drawing room in the east wing, the hunting grounds, the front yard, and the fishing spot. Next will be the maze garden, the backyard, the west wing, and finally, the rose garden. That one is on the outskirts, so people rarely go there anyway.”
Harold, who had been counting on his fingers, suddenly opened a window and frowned. The faint sound of shouting grew clearer. It seemed a fight had broken out among the new workers.
Men who had been scuffling in the dust were now rolling on the ground, grabbing each other by the collar. They slammed violently into a cart laden with materials, causing the items stacked high on top to sway precariously.
“Whoa! It’s gonna collapse!”
The other workers, who had been cackling and watching the fight, finally scrambled to their feet and rushed over. Watching the scene, Harold sighed and shook his head.
“It seems this will be anything but a quiet summer.”
Vanessa silently agreed. This summer was shaping up to be unusually long and loud.
* * *
The faces of the soldiers filling the old station were alight with the excitement of a long-awaited leave. Trains arriving from all over would stop briefly, sweep up a crowd of men, and hurry off toward their destinations.
Theodore stood one step removed from the bustling flow, accepting a letter from a messenger. As he read, the young officer’s smooth brow gradually furrowed. His sergeant, River Ross, sensing his superior’s displeasure, asked cautiously, “Is it bad news, sir?”
“No.”
The reply was casual, but the letter was mercilessly crumpled in his large hand. River Ross watched with a concerned expression. If that letter had been one of the countless love letters that flooded the Admiralty’s mailbox, this wouldn’t have felt so awkward. Most of those were thrown into the trash unopened. But this one didn’t bear the royal crest of Ingram, either.
“Letters a soldier receives are all more or less the same,” Theodore said. “Asking if you’re well, if you’ve been injured. Things like that.”
“But for something like that, you seem quite…”
“Hm?”
“Displeased, sir.”
Theodore let out a short laugh and dropped the crumpled letter into the messenger’s politely waiting palms, along with a single, gleaming gold coin.
He could have easily deflected with a vague remark, but his non-commissioned officer was stubbornly direct. In Theodore’s world, that was a fine quality. A person who was honest to the point of being foolish was far more trustworthy than someone calculating and frivolous.
“My grandmother is a very ambitious woman. It seems she still hasn’t given up.”
“A letter about marriage, then…”
“It’s an annual rite I have to brace myself for every leave. Nagging me to get married, engaged, or at the very least, start seeing someone.”
He was sick of it even as he spoke. He didn't dislike women, but he had no desire for a serious relationship. He had abandoned any hope of a normal romance, let alone a respectable marriage, when he was eight years old.
It happened on the day his own mother died while trying to elope with the family’s driver.
There was nothing as dreadful and hollow as the word ‘love.’ Theodore had realized that fact earlier than most. His parents had married after a six-year courtship, each other’s first love, but their story ended in a hatred worse than that between strangers—and death.
“The Dowager Duchess of the House of Battenberg, it seems, is determined to push her grandson, who survived the war, into the royal family.”
A cold, cynical smile touched his lips as Theodore placed a thin cigarette between them. He was rather fond of these cheap cigarettes, the kind issued to soldiers. Suppressing the urge to light it, he bit down gently on the filter.
It was an exceptionally clear day. Sunlight poured through the station’s massive windows, and the cry of gulls could be heard in the distance. After gazing at the dazzling scene for a moment, Theodore adjusted his white naval cap and asked, “Sergeant River Ross. What are your plans for your summer leave?”