Chapter 56
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 56
Vanessa clutched her shawl tighter, her eyes wide. Wyatt stood in the dim foyer. Beside him, the butler held a lantern to illuminate his master’s path, raising a subtle eyebrow at her disheveled state.
“Uncle.”
She tried to sound calm, but her voice trembled. She couldn’t quite recall what expression she was supposed to wear when facing him. Even though nothing had been proven, the terrible suspicion that her uncle might be involved in her parents’ deaths made her heart pound.
Yes. It has to be a delusion. Vanessa forced herself to take a slow, steady breath.
“Come here. Let me look at you.”
With quiet, obedient steps, she approached him, her face a mask of composure while unresolved questions churned within her. Where on earth was he going at this early hour? Her uncle rarely left his bedroom before noon.
That was precisely why she had found the courage to venture into the garden, despite knowing he had returned to Gloucester yesterday.
And why does he suddenly want to look at me?
Usually, he would ignore her and walk right past, even if their eyes met. Vanessa anxiously twisted the fabric of her skirt in her hands. As she drew near, Wyatt used the handle of his umbrella to gently tilt her chin up.
Vanessa kept her eyes submissively lowered while her uncle inspected her. He was like a merchant examining a piece of precious porcelain for the slightest scratch. After scanning her from head to toe, he finally withdrew his umbrella.
“You look a bit worn.”
“Perhaps it’s from the long car ride… I think I was a bit carsick.”
“So I heard. They said you weren’t feeling well.”
“Yes.”
Outwardly, she must have appeared perfectly calm, but she couldn’t entirely hide her shock, and her voice wavered. She could hardly believe she was having this kind of conversation with her uncle—as if they were just an ordinary niece and uncle exchanging pleasantries, as if they had done so their entire lives.
In the past, she would have been thrilled by this attention, wagging her tail like a dog grateful for any scrap of affection, even after a beating. But now, it only filled her with dread. Why was he suddenly acting this way? Did he know she was investigating the will?
While she fretted, trying to read his inscrutable expression, Wyatt’s sharp gaze swept over her once more.
“A message came from the House of Essex. The Countess was asking for you.”
“The Countess?”
“She said she was worried about your health and told me to look after you.”
“I’m all better now. I’ll write to her and apologize for causing her to worry. I simply couldn’t have gone yesterday. I was afraid I would only be a burden…”
Vanessa answered in a bright, forced tone, too consumed by the fear of being caught to realize how unnatural she sounded. The butler frowned slightly, but fortunately, Wyatt didn’t seem to be paying much attention to her words.
He smiled with satisfaction, patted her on the shoulder, and took his hat from the butler.
“Yes, well… I’m sure you’ll conduct yourself well.”
‘Conduct yourself,’ and ‘well.’ Had her uncle ever been so generous in all the years they had lived together? As far as she could remember, this was a first. Vanessa anxiously tightened her grip on her shawl.
Had he found out? Perhaps the lawyer had informed him, or a clerk from the court had given him a warning. Maybe everything—from the vagrant to the police—had been a trap to test her devotion to her family.
Once the dark thoughts took root, they spiraled out of control. She couldn’t tell if her fears were rational or if she was merely projecting her own guilt. She felt as though she were about to suffocate under the crushing weight of her anxiety.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
Wyatt, who had already stepped down from the foyer, suddenly turned back and raised a finger. Vanessa offered a reflexive smile.
“Yes, Uncle?”
“This might not be welcome news, but… your wedding has been postponed.”
It was entirely unexpected. Vanessa’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Is… is that true?”
“Count Roden sent a request to postpone it. It seems he spent quite a sum renovating his estate. Everything should be finalized around next spring, or… perhaps the spring after that.”
Vanessa barely suppressed a grin. She could hardly believe such a stroke of good fortune had fallen into her lap, and her heart leaped with joy. While it was a pity the marriage to Count Roden hadn’t been canceled entirely, this was still a massive relief.
As long as the marriage talks were technically ongoing, at least no other man could be thrust upon her.
“Perhaps we can spend this winter in Linden. Since we’ve bought some time and saved some money, it might be worth introducing you to high society in the capital…”
Wyatt’s satisfied smile was as cruel as a farmer’s gazing upon a beast fattened for slaughter. In that moment, Vanessa felt a mixture of deep disappointment and profound relief. Her uncle was still oblivious to her rebellion. He clearly intended to use this delay to shop her around to other suitors—expanding his search beyond the South and into the capital.
Her uncle hadn’t changed in the slightest. He was chasing some new, vain ambition, likely spurred on by some rumor he had heard.
The capital’s high society.
As her frozen mind began to thaw, a sudden realization struck her. Vanessa quickly followed Wyatt down the steps. Despite the faint blue light of dawn, the grounds were still shrouded in darkness.
“Excuse me, Uncle.”
Wyatt turned back, his expression souring. His brief flash of generosity had indeed been nothing more than a fleeting whim.
“Could you perhaps take me to the shipboard party in a few days?”
“…A shipboard party?”
“The maiden voyage ceremony for the new cruise ship built by the Santal Company.”
As Wyatt’s brow furrowed, Vanessa quickly added, “It’s the largest cruise ship in Ingram, so many prominent gentlemen will be attending. The newspapers are competing to publish the guest list. Our family’s name was on it, so I assumed you were planning to go.”
He clicked his tongue—a habit of his whenever he was deeply displeased. In moments like this, her uncle could turn violent in an instant.
It had happened shortly after they first started living together. A young maid had been beaten so severely by a drunken Wyatt that her arm was broken. Her crime? Talking back to him. From that day on, Vanessa had made every effort to avoid displeasing her uncle.
She offered no opinions, showed no emotions, and did her best to comply with his orders. She had to report her every movement and couldn't go anywhere without his permission—an absurd, suffocating routine. Once Wyatt realized that the more violence he inflicted on those around him, the more obedient his niece became, he began beating the servants under the pretext that they ‘failed to serve the young lady properly and filled her head with nonsense.’
It was hard to understand why her simple wish to place flowers on her parents’ grave had enraged him so, but she had long since stopped trying to make sense of him. Everyone, it seemed, wanted her to remain as still and silent as a doll.
“If your schedule is too busy, I can go with Rosalyn.”
Vanessa swallowed hard, her hands clasped tightly together. Fortunately, only the butler was present, and Wyatt never raised a hand to him. Besides, she couldn’t afford to back down this time.
According to the newspaper, Viscount B. Dawson was among the invited guests.
She desperately needed that lawyer. He was the only one of her parents’ former attorneys she could still hope to reach. The others were either too old, had moved abroad, or were already in their graves.
There were tear marks on the original will. Perhaps a portion was withheld, or something was altered from the draft. A family head’s will is often a lifelong process, drafted and redrafted from the moment they inherit the title until just before their death… If he worked with Father back then, he might know something.
Vanessa bit her lip anxiously.
If only I had examined the will right after my parents died…
Of course, it was an unrealistic thought. She had been devastated in the wake of her parents’ deaths, and even if she had possessed the presence of mind to look, a thirteen-year-old girl could hardly have imagined that something was being hidden from her. Besides, Ingram’s laws did not allow women to inherit titles or land.
After that, she had been kept too busy to even think about the will. Wyatt had sent her to a convent under the guise of an education, where she studied ancient languages, arithmetic, and literature, before immediately enrolling her in St. Louis Boarding School. Her uncle had monitored her with unsettling thoroughness—with the sole exception of the Winchester twins, whose status was too noble for him to interfere with.
Unlike the Marchioness, who had grown cold after her friend’s death, the Marquis of Winchester had continued to cherish Vanessa, allowing the children to remain close companions. Thanks to this, Vanessa had been able to slip past her uncle’s surveillance under the pretext of visiting Rosalyn, and even submit manuscripts to newspapers under Blair’s name. Once she began saving money, bit by bit, a tiny crack had opened in her suffocating world—a space to breathe, to feel, and to truly see the world.
“Many gentlemen are attending, you say? At this party?”
“They say bets are even being placed on whether the Duke of Battenberg or His Majesty the King will attend.”
At that, Wyatt burst into a booming laugh. Vanessa flinched at his abrupt shift in mood. Lost in thought for a moment, he patted her shoulder with a hand as broad as a skillet.
It was unclear whether he was giving his permission or denying her request. Still, the mere fact that he hadn’t refused her outright gave her hope.
“May I go, then?”
“Take Mary with you. And behave yourself.”
“Of course. Thank you—”
Before she could finish her thanks, the car door slammed shut in her face, as if he couldn’t bear to exchange another word with her.
The engine of the newly purchased, state-of-the-art automobile purred to life, kicking up a cloud of dust. Vanessa stood in place for a long time, watching until the car carrying Wyatt receded into a tiny speck in the distance. The vow she had made when she first met her uncle—to never harbor hatred in her heart—was incredibly difficult to keep at times.
But as much as she detested him, she desperately hoped he was innocent. It was a painful, contradictory truth.