Chapter 14
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 14
“Whenever Bella attended a masquerade, she wore a mask that obscured most of her face and a dress that left everything to the imagination. When she met the men she’d seduced in the gardens, she was always wrapped in a heavy robe.”
The men, who had shared intimate touches and even kisses with her, naturally wanted to see Bella under the light of day. But Bella, who only desired a night’s pleasure and the valuable information those men possessed, refused to meet them.
And every time, Harriet served as her perfect shield.
“It was my niece’s doing. Bella wasn't feeling well that day; she couldn't even get out of bed, let alone attend a ball. It seems Harriet stole Bella’s invitation.”
John would offer these apologies to the men who came calling at the mansion. Naturally, their embarrassment would instantly ignite into pure fury.
However, too ashamed to admit they had been played by someone as 'insignificant' as Harriet, they kept their mouths shut. This silence allowed several more men to fall for the same trap.
“For the past three years, that is how I became the social season’s greatest scandal maker.”
“Why didn't you defend yourself?”
“I wanted to. But my uncle threatened me. He said he’d throw me out on the street if I kept spreading ‘lies’ that tarnished the family name.”
Harriet smiled bitterly.
She had even pleaded with Bella to stop. But Bella never took her seriously.
“How was I supposed to know that man would come all the way to the house? Anyway, I extracted useful information for Father, so I did my part.”
The rest, she implied, was Harriet’s problem.
When Harriet tried to protest further, her uncle would only scowl and bark at her.
“If not for this, what else can you do for this family? You have to earn your keep!”
At first, it was framed as helping Bella, but somewhere along the line, it became an expected routine.
However, the final scandal was something Harriet still couldn't wrap her head around.
“I still don't know how the Duke of Kailas’s Brooch ended up pinned to my skirt at the Victory Banquet. I have no idea who would play such a trick...”
With a long sigh, Harriet’s story came to an end.
Perhaps finding the ensuing silence awkward, she let out an embarrassed little laugh.
“It all sounds like a lie, doesn't it?”
Catherine and Agnes wore complicated expressions.
While it was true that every story had two sides, these two accounts were simply too different to reconcile. However, Harriet’s version felt far more grounded in reality.
‘If Miss Harriet had truly been impersonating her cousin and dragging the family name through the mud, Viscount Listerwell—as her guardian—wouldn't have let it slide for three years.’
It was possible he doted on his orphaned niece out of pity, but if that were the case, wasn't the Viscount also responsible for her behavior? Yet, the moment an unmanageable problem arose, he had simply cut Harriet away like a diseased limb, casting her off to a convent.
Catherine, her brow still furrowed, asked, “If this isn't a lie, then I’m even more worried. Even if you return next year, what guarantee is there that the same thing won't happen again?”
Harriet bit her lip, then whispered, “I just have to hope Bella gets married soon. If we don't live under the same roof, she won't be able to use me as her proxy.”
Until then, she could only pray that Bella would behave herself.
Harriet felt a renewed wave of helplessness. She felt as if she had nowhere left to run. As long as her uncle remained her legal guardian, she was tied to the House of Listerwell like a dog on a leash. Her heart ached at the thought.
* * *
Twenty-one-year-old Daphne Laurel was a slender, ethereal beauty with dazzling silver hair and mysterious violet eyes.
She was the precious daughter of Count Laurel, the owner of vast crystal mines, and was currently engaged to the eldest son of Count Cheslow.
Though she had been celebrated as a beauty in high society since her debut, her early engagement and shy nature meant she didn't attract a frantic following like Bella. For the most part, she was perfectly content with her fiancé, James.
But recently, her kind and diligent fiancé had been acting strangely.
「Dearest Daphne,
It seems it will be difficult to arrange a meeting this weekend as well. My friends have been pestering me so much that I've agreed to go hunting in Herbos Forest.
I will be sure to catch a beautiful fox for your winter scarf.
— Wishing you good health, James」
The reply brought by the messenger contained disappointing news once again.
‘It’s been almost a month since we last met...’
Never before had they gone so long without seeing each other. Even when he was buried in his duties as an heir or during mandatory military exercises, James had always found a way to make time for her.
And there was something else bothering her.
‘Dearest Daphne. Wishing you good health, James.’
The opening and closing of the letter were jarringly different from his usual style.
Before, it was always ‘My dearest Daphne,’ followed by all sorts of affectionate, almost poetic phrases: ‘The one I dream of,’ ‘My goddess,’ ‘Mistress of my soul.’
The way he signed his name had changed, too. He used to attach embarrassing, romantic titles like ‘Your eternal servant,’ ‘With a heart yearning for you,’ or ‘The luckiest man in the world.’
But ‘Dearest’ and ‘Wishing you good health’? Those were the cold, formal phrases one used for business acquaintances.
‘No. He’s not a child anymore. He probably just decided to write more formally.’
She tried to be understanding about his recent string of social engagements as well. After all, networking was a necessary part of solidifying his position as an heir.
But even as she tried to reassure herself, the uneasy feeling she’d had during their last meeting kept resurfacing. He had seemed so... distracted.
“I want to make a bouquet from the garden. I’m thinking of planting hydrangeas or peonies where I removed the roses. Which do you think would be better?”
“Hmm. Either one is fine, I suppose.”
“Oh, right! It would probably be best to hold the wedding at Elvinas Temple, wouldn't it?”
“Yes, well...”
He had nodded, but his gaze was fixed on his untouched drink. His answers were perfunctory, his mind clearly elsewhere.
‘Is something wrong?’
Daphne worried for him. She believed that if a man who was usually so happy to be her fiancé couldn't even focus while she was right in front of him, he must be facing a significant crisis.
The news that truly blindsided Daphne came a few days later.
“Welcome, Melody! What’s the matter? I was surprised when you asked to meet so urgently.”
Daphne greeted her friend, Melody Luce, who had sent a frantic letter saying, ‘I need to see you as soon as possible.’
But there wasn't a trace of a smile on Melody’s face.
“Daphne. I want to talk, just the two of us. It’s urgent.”
“O-okay. I’ll dismiss the maids.”
Daphne sent away the staff and offered a drink to the grave-looking Melody.
“At least drink this and catch your breath, Melody.”
Instead of reaching for the glass, Melody grabbed Daphne’s hand. Her eyes were swimming with worry.
“What I’m about to tell you is not a lie, nor is it a misunderstanding. You trust me, don't you?”
“Of course I trust you. But what’s wrong? You’re starting to scare me...”
“Daphne. Last weekend, my family went on a picnic in Herbos Forest.”
“I know. You mentioned you were going for one last autumn outing before the cold set in.”
Daphne nodded, her wide, innocent eyes looking utterly naive—completely unaware of the bombshell about to drop.
Melody sighed and leaned in.
“There... I saw Young Master Cheslow.”
“Oh! You ran into James? He said he was hunting in Herbos Forest with his friends. But you had a picnic near the hunting grounds? That sounds dangerous.”
Melody shook her head vehemently.
“Hunting? Is that what they’re calling it now? Since when does a man go hunting with a woman draped over his arm?”
“What?”
“Lord James was with Bella Listerwell! They didn't look like casual acquaintances, Daphne. Not at all.”
For a moment, Daphne forgot how to speak. She could only stare blankly at her friend.
“There was no one else there except their personal servants. They didn't seem to notice us, but they also didn't seem to care if they were seen.”
“That’s... that’s impossible...”
“You need to call Lord James and give him a stern warning before the rumors spread any further. Even if you have to ask Count Laurel for help.”
Melody’s concern was valid.
Daphne and James had been engaged for five years. Both came from prominent families, and the entire social circle had blessed their union as a perfect match. Though the wedding had been postponed due to Daphne’s age and James’s training, they were finally set to marry next year. Everyone knew it.
A picnic with another woman? Now?