Chapter 4
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 4
"I'll do my best to help you. Whether it's running away or simply disappearing."
"If something like that actually happened, you two would be the first ones suspected," Vanessa replied with a light, teasing laugh.
Even if she were lucky enough to vanish without a trace, Wyatt was the kind of man who would spend the rest of his life hunting her down. Her uncle had bungled most things in his life, but his dangerous connections were very real.
All those vagrants, gamblers, errand boys of questionable character, and gangs… She didn't know what kind of people he had associated with during his exile from the family, but her uncle's ‘business’ seemed to stretch into very dangerous territory.
‘Though the profits seem rather pathetic in comparison.’
According to her uncle, the family had been drowning in debt from the very beginning. Things were in such a shambles that even selling the castle and their townhouse in the capital wouldn't cover it all. Any land capable of generating income had long since fallen into the hands of the banks, and the family's treasures had all been liquidated and squandered.
Now, the only ‘commodity’ left to sell in Somerset was her. From the moment busybodies began whispering about the beauty of the young lady of Somerset, her uncle's sole focus must have been on one thing: selling off his only commodity for the highest possible price.
"There are more and more people these days who want to acquire a noble title, even if it's just in name. As long as my value on the marriage market doesn't plummet, my uncle won't give up on this trade."
"Still, you need to leave yourself some breathing room. Don't go doing something reckless just because you feel cornered."
"Like that runaway stunt you pulled when you were fourteen," Blair chimed in with a smirk.
Vanessa flushed at the embarrassing memory.
"How long ago was that…? And it wasn't even running away. It was the anniversary of my parents' death, so I only went to visit them at Melvin Cemetery."
"Whatever you want to call it, it's a fact that you were missing for three days before the police dragged you back."
"Well, yes, but…"
"She can be surprisingly bold sometimes," Rosalyn remarked, shifting on her hard chair in a futile attempt to find a comfortable position.
Honestly, if it weren't for her worry over Vanessa, Rosalyn wouldn't have stayed in this dreadful place for even a single day.
Even in an era where the nobility was collapsing left and right, Somerset was in a league of its own. Hardly any of the furniture decorating the castle was intact, and every single landscape painting hanging in the hallways was a cheap imitation. All that remained here was the pathetic struggle to survive day by day, scraping by on the fading remnants of the family's reputation. Moreover, the neglect was so calculated it was almost an art form. No other noble house would treat its master's family or guests in such a manner.
"It's hot. Open the window a bit more."
At Rosalyn's languid request, Vanessa threw open the half-closed window. A sudden gust of wind rushed in, billowing the white curtains. Though the air was still cool, the sun was as hot as midsummer. Vanessa dragged a chair over and rested her cheek against the windowsill, as languid as a cat.
The twins' attention had already drifted to graduation theses, high society gossip, and silly jokes. Letting their conversation drift in one ear and out the other, she looked down at the backyard garden.
The drawing-room window was one of her favorite spots in Gloucester Castle, as it overlooked her mother's rose garden. Though it had been neglected for so long that its former glory was hard to find, its quiet, tranquil beauty remained.
The overgrown poplar trees and heath bushes, the shed where gardening tools were kept, the wild roses that would soon bloom in profusion, and…
It was then that she sensed a presence below the window. Vanessa straightened up from her relaxed posture against the sill.
The rose garden was usually deserted. Had Mr. Ross, the gardener, returned already? He had said he was going to Bath Station to pick up his nephew, who was supposed to help out during the holidays.
Perhaps some clueless laborer had trespassed into her late mother's garden. Just as she was wondering what to do, a stranger emerged from the bushes. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, as if he had stepped out for a break from work, and his pitch-black hair, glossy as a raven's feather, was casually disheveled. The lush green foliage cast a shadow over half of his face.
Who is he?
Vanessa watched the man, holding her breath. In the shade of the trees, he looked like a wild beast lying in wait. She got the impression that he was trying to avoid the public eye.
As she watched, the man pulled a cigarette from his breast pocket and placed it between his lips. How reckless, in a dry garden that hadn't even been watered. Startled, she gripped the window frame tightly. Creak. The hinge groaned at her movement.
At that moment, the man suddenly looked up. The instant her eyes met his—eyes as deep and dark blue as the ocean—her breath caught, as if she had committed some grave sin.
"..."
His gaze slowly pried into her. Vanessa bit her lip so hard it turned white. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him. She couldn't believe a mere laborer was looking at her with such insolence, yet… at the same time, she wondered how she looked in his eyes.
"Vanessa."
At the sound of Blair's voice behind her, Vanessa spun around, startled. Her heart pounded as if she had been caught doing something wrong.
"Huh?"
"What startled you so much?"
"Oh, nothing…"
Her reaction must have been incredibly suspicious, because Blair strode over to stand beside her. While he carefully scanned the ground below the window, Vanessa unconsciously bit her lip and clasped her hands together.
Why on earth was she so nervous? It was just a laborer sneaking into the garden. If he were caught, he would be the one in trouble.
A moment that felt like an eternity passed. Finally, Blair let out a dry chuckle.
"There really is nothing there."
"What?"
"Was there a cat or something?"
…Nothing? That couldn't be. Vanessa hurriedly looked out the window, but the space beneath the tree where the man had stood just moments ago was completely empty. It was as if he had been nothing but an illusion conjured by the early summer haze.
Who on earth could he have been? Just as she was silently pondering the question she couldn't bring herself to ask aloud, Rosalyn spoke up.
"Come to think of it, Enoch sent an invitation to tea."
Rosalyn, who had been ringing the silver bell repeatedly to summon the tardy maid, spoke in a strangely excited voice. Blair's expression stiffened slightly as he picked up his teacup again.
"Enoch Berkshire? Is he in the South right now? What about his superior he's always trailing after?"
"Apparently, he's completely vanished. It's just a guess, but they say he might be in the South. According to my sources, at least."
"Who vanished?" Vanessa asked blankly, still feeling as though she were caught in a dream. Her sudden intrusion into a conversation on an unfamiliar topic was impulsive. She had just seen a strange man in her familiar garden, and so…
"The Duke of Battenberg."
Rosalyn offered nothing but the name, as if that alone should explain her dramatic excitement.
When Vanessa only blinked her large eyes in confusion, Rosalyn seemed to realize her oversight and quickly added, "Ah, I forgot you haven't made your debut in high society yet. If you've never seen him, it makes sense that you wouldn't care."
"Vanessa spent most of her holidays buried in books at her boarding school anyway," Blair added. "It's only natural she wouldn't know. Besides, the only public photo of the Duke is one taken at his mother's funeral when he was about eight or nine."
"Right, that famous photo. Even back then, he had a face that promised great things."
"You're being generous, Rosalyn," Blair remarked.
"He rarely attends social events, so I've only seen him once from afar. He's an absolute feast for the eyes. He's twenty-three this year, returned from the Duchy of Hessen about six years ago, graduated from the Royal Naval Academy, and is currently serving as a captain."
After delivering her haughty assessment, Rosalyn suddenly blushed and added, "There's a rumor that he's looking for a wife during this leave. Apparently, he was granted a long one after his distinguished service in the recent Battle of Potsdam."
That struck a chord. She vaguely recalled a headline, "Hero of the Battle of Potsdam," splashed across a newspaper the girls at her boarding school had passed around. It hadn't been a topic of interest to her, so she hadn't paid much attention, but she did remember that he was immensely popular.
"The young ladies waiting anxiously in the capital must be terribly disappointed. What is there to see in this boring South, anyway?" Rosalyn nudged Blair in the ribs, casting a wary glance at Vanessa.
Of course, Vanessa didn't mind in the least. She readily agreed that the South was boring. It was a region where nothing was new and change was slow to be accepted. She would willingly bet her most cherished fountain pen that the South—and Gloucester in particular—would be the very last place in all of Ingram to get electricity.
In any case, Vanessa quickly lost interest in the topic. There was no way a man with a cheap cigarette between his lips, the kind only servants smoked, could be the gentleman from the rumors.
"What on earth would bring a man like that to the South?"
"Who knows?" Blair snorted cynically. "Maybe he's lost his mind and developed a sudden eccentricity."