Chapter 39
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 39
Someone made a pointed remark. Harriet had arrived at eleven o’clock sharp, exactly as the invitation requested. However, it seemed the other guests had expected her to be so overwhelmed by the rare summons—having never been invited to such prestigious gatherings before—that she would arrive early out of sheer desperation to please.
Harriet maintained an expression of mild confusion, as if she couldn't quite fathom the woman’s intentions. She turned her gaze toward Annabelle, rather than the lady who had spoken.
“I was under the impression that the arrival time was eleven o’clock. Did the other guests perhaps receive different invitations than the one sent to me?”
Her tone subtly implied that they might have been trying to vex her on purpose.
The room went still. Not only Annabelle, but also the young lady who had slighted Harriet, looked visibly flustered.
“Oh, no! That’s not what I meant at all,” the woman stammered. “It’s true, the arrival time is indeed eleven.”
“Then why suggest I was late…?”
“It was only to say I was looking forward to seeing you that much! Truly!”
Having attempted a petty power struggle only to nearly cause a scene at Annabelle’s table, the woman glanced around nervously and forced an awkward laugh.
Harriet, who hadn't come for a fight, chose that moment to offer a bright, forgiving smile.
“Oh dear! I’ve never received such a warm welcome before, so I must have misunderstood. My apologies. And your name is…?”
“I-I’m Grace Dalton. Please, call me Grace.”
“Thank you, Miss Grace. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Thanks to Harriet’s quick de-escalation, the tea party proceeded smoothly.
“Miss Harriet, the first event you attended after returning to Genoa was at the Vanderbilt estate, wasn't it? I haven't heard of you attending anything since then….”
“And the next is right here, at the House of Leighton,” Harriet replied smoothly.
“My goodness! I’ve heard so many people say they were dying to invite you.”
Annabelle’s intention was transparent. Despite knowing this was Harriet’s first outing since the Vanderbilt party, she wanted to emphasize that she had been the first to successfully host the woman currently at the center of every conversation in high society. It was a blatant display of her own influence and connections.
Had Harriet been caught off guard, the maneuver might have been unpleasant. However, since they both had something to gain from the association, Harriet was perfectly willing to offer a few honeyed words.
“I did receive quite a few invitations, it’s true. But among them, Lady Leighton’s was the most courteous and kind. As you know, I am still quite cautious about attending such gatherings, but Lady Leighton’s warmth gave me the courage to come.”
Annabelle looked immensely pleased. From that moment on, she took even greater care to ensure Harriet was included in every thread of the conversation.
Harriet had rarely attended social events, not just during her year at the convent, but even in the years preceding it. Consequently, there were gaps in her knowledge of local gossip, but Annabelle personally filled her in or skillfully steered the topic whenever Harriet looked lost.
In exchange for such favor, Harriet was expected to provide an equal measure of interesting conversation.
“However… I worry this might be a bit rude to ask, but….”
One of the ladies looked around hesitantly before speaking in a low voice.
“Did you return to Genoa specifically to attend Miss Bella’s engagement ceremony?”
Harriet nearly choked on her tea.
It was a stroke of luck that Annabelle was quick to hand her a handkerchief; otherwise, her makeup would have been ruined by the unexpected question.
“Are you alright?”
“I-I’m sorry. It was just such a surprising question….” Harriet wiped her mouth, offering an embarrassed smile to the young lady who had asked. “I know absolutely nothing about Bella’s engagement. My uncle and Bella likely didn't even know I was returning to Genoa.”
“Does that mean…? Did Viscount Listerwell truly intend to make you a nun?”
“I was left at the convent without a single copper of my inheritance, and my guardianship was severed. I believe that implies only one thing,” Harriet said, her voice soft. “Well, who knows? Perhaps my uncle had some deeper meaning I failed to grasp.”
Harriet’s face remained serene. There was no trace of anger or resentment in her expression—only a relaxed, slightly melancholy look that seemed to say, ‘What a pity.’
The revelation that Harriet had nearly been forced into a convent against her will was enough to stir a wave of sympathy among the guests. Unless one was truly devout, a noblewoman being sent to a convent was seen as a life reached a dead end. Moreover, it evoked memories of the old ways from twenty or thirty years ago, when daughters who defied their fathers were locked away—a practice now viewed as a cruel form of oppression.
“Viscount Listerwell… he never seemed like that sort of man….”
“Indeed. Miss Harriet and Miss Bella are the same age, aren't they? To marry off his own daughter to a prestigious family while casting his niece into a convent….”
In truth, Harriet had a mountain of grievances she wanted to air regarding John and Bella, but she didn't push the matter.
‘For now, I must be content with sowing the seeds of doubt.’
If she rushed, she risked a backlash. She had to play the part of someone who held no ill will, only a slight, lingering regret.
As Harriet maintained her careful facade, another young lady, who had been fidgeting as if bursting to speak, finally blurted out a question.
“Excuse me, but what exactly happened at last year’s Victory Banquet? You were sent to the convent because of what happened then, weren't you?”
The question felt aggressive, and Annabelle moved to intervene. After all, she had promised Harriet there would be no awkward incidents.
However, that question was exactly what Harriet had been waiting for.
“If I may take this opportunity to explain… I neither stole nor ‘found’ that brooch,” Harriet said clearly. “After the lights went out and came back on, I simply found it pinned to my dress. Bella and her friends all saw it there.”
“Really?”
“Would I be mad enough to steal something belonging to the Duke of Kailas? Besides, there was a significant distance between us. Even if he had dropped it, I wasn't close enough to have picked it up.”
The ladies gasped, leaning in closer.
“Honestly, I thought someone had mistaken me for another guest and pinned it to my dress as a prank. The only reason I didn't take it off immediately was because Bella suggested that if it were a mistake, the owner would need to see it to identify it.”
“Miss Bella suggested that?”
“Yes. And Miss Caroline even sneered at me, saying, ‘Perhaps there’s someone she’s hoping for, and we’re being insensitive, aren't we?’”
“If that’s the case, then why did Miss Bella say those things to the Duke…?”
The women began to murmur, recalling the scene. When Cedric had removed his father’s brooch from Harriet’s chest and demanded to know how she would answer for the insult, what had Bella said in her supposed defense?
“Your Grace, please, have pity on Harriet. She likely found the brooch by chance and wore it because she wanted a little attention. She’s never received anything like that before….”
While no one could recall Bella’s exact words, the nuance of the moment remained vivid. She had framed it as if Harriet had worn the heirloom out of a desperate, pathetic need for notice.
The young ladies at the table exchanged bewildered glances. Could Harriet be telling the truth? People said she was jealous of Bella; was she slandering her cousin now? But the details were so specific—too specific for a simple lie.
Harriet did not miss the shift in the room. She offered a faint, weary smile.
“I know it might be hard to believe. It was hard for me to believe it myself. Perhaps that day was just a series of terribly unlucky mishaps.”
In truth, Harriet didn't know the full story of that night either. She could only speculate.
“I suspect someone found an expensive-looking brooch and pinned it to my skirt as a joke. It just so happened to be a memento of the late Duke of Kailas. Perhaps Bella said those things to try and salvage the situation for me. Or perhaps she simply misunderstood.”
The expressions around the table shifted from suspicion to pity.
“Because my reputation was already marred by rumors, it looked as though I had committed another foolish act. But I can swear before Yawar without a shred of shame: that was not my doing.”
In the past, even if Harriet had sworn before God, no one would have listened. But coming from someone who had spent a year in a convent, the oath carried a different weight.
One by one, the ladies began to murmur their agreement.
“I… I also thought something was strange back then. It didn't quite add up.”
“Exactly! It felt as if she were being unfairly cornered.”
“The idea of Miss Harriet stealing the Duke’s brooch is absurd, frankly. How could she possibly have snatched it from the chest of a war hero who is said to possess the strength of a hundred men?”
At those words, Harriet felt a great weight lift from her chest. It was basic logic. Even if she were obsessed with a man, how could she have physically robbed him?
And yet, back then, had no one thought of that?
‘Of course they did. They just stayed silent.’
And because of that silence, she had been exiled.
The incident had ultimately turned out to be a blessing in disguise, but that didn't excuse the cowardice of the crowd.
As the atmosphere grew heavy with the weight of the past, Annabelle swiftly moved to change the subject.
“I also have something I’m truly curious about, Miss Harriet.”