Chapter 59
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 59
Harriet had become a fixture at the tea parties and social gatherings hosted by Annabelle Leighton.
At today’s event, themed ‘Autumnal Charm,’ Annabelle had once again seated Harriet in the place of honor by her side.
"Isn't the weather simply divine lately? The breeze is so crisp, and the falling leaves are quite romantic."
"One must be careful during the spring thaw and this season in particular," another guest added with a giggle. "The atmosphere is so heady, you might find yourself falling in love with just about anyone."
A chorus of lighthearted laughter followed. Warm tea and delicate pastries only served to sweeten the ladies' chatter as they traded the latest rumors and tidbits they’d gathered.
"Oh! Have you heard the news regarding Miss Viviana Delus?"
"Viviana Delus? Ah, isn't she a member of Bella’s Entourage?"
At the mention of Bella, several eyes darted toward Harriet. They watched her closely, wondering if she would be bothered by the mention of her cousin.
Harriet, however, remained unfazed. She simply broke off a piece of a financier and took a dainty bite, her expression unreadable.
Relieved by her lack of reaction, the speaker eagerly continued the gossip.
"She is no longer part of 'Bella’s Entourage.' Word is, she’s been cast out."
"Cast out? Whatever for?"
"Apparently, there was a minor spat during a party hosted by Miss Bella. Miss Viviana refused to apologize, and that was the end of their friendship."
Harriet, who had seemed entirely disinterested until now, suddenly interjected. "What exactly happened?"
The young lady who had broached the topic frowned, searching her memory. "At the party, Miss Bella gave out <Labonaz> cream as gifts. Miss Viviana supposedly declared quite loudly that she didn't like it. It was incredibly rude, from what I hear."
Someone else chimed in, leaning forward. "Miss Viviana has a crush on a man named Adam Hofner, but he, in turn, is infatuated with Miss Bella. Miss Viviana has always been green with envy and was constantly picking fights."
"It probably didn't help that Miss Viviana was the least attractive of the group," another whispered. "She must have been harboring a great deal of resentment."
"Still, to cause a scene at a party hosted by Miss Bella... perhaps she’d had a bit too much to drink?"
Laughter erupted once more.
Harriet offered a faint, polite smile and raised her teacup to her lips. The conversation quickly drifted toward a new dress someone had commissioned, and the table soon forgot all about Viviana.
But Harriet could not dismiss it so easily.
An all-too-familiar pattern, she thought. A woman who previously had no issues suddenly becomes the personification of jealousy—rude, unsightly, and disgraced.
Harriet remembered Viviana Delus clearly. She was the young lady who had personally sought Harriet out, asking for more soap because the man she liked was going to be at Bella’s party.
She wouldn't have deliberately insulted Bella there—not with the man she loved watching.
It was highly probable that Viviana was being subjected to the exact same treatment Harriet once had.
After mingling for the appropriate amount of time, Harriet returned home and immediately sat down to write a letter.
"Dear Miss Viviana Delus,
I attended a gathering today and heard some troubling news. I want you to know that I, for one, do not believe those rumors. I am certain the truth has been twisted to your disadvantage.
I recently purchased some strawberry black tea from <Eleanor’s Suite>, and it is far too delicious to enjoy alone. If you find yourself in need of a warm cup of tea and a sympathetic ear, please reply."
She folded the parchment, tucked it into an envelope, and sealed it with her newly fashioned personal signet.
As Harriet prepared to rise, another face came to mind. She pulled out a second sheet of stationery.
She hesitated. Should I write this, or not?
She had much she wanted to say, but she wasn't sure if the recipient would welcome her words. Her pen hovered over the paper, the nib trembling slightly, before finally descending to the page.
"Dear Miss Daphne Laurel,
How is your health?
As an apology for my rudeness during our last encounter, I am sending you a lavender toner from <Saint Clarissa Soap & Herb> as a gift. I sincerely hope you will accept it.
I have no ulterior motives. I simply wish for a comforting fragrance to accompany your day."
Knowing they weren't on terms that allowed for long-winded conversation, Harriet even omitted the standard pleasantries about the weather.
She reread the letter, then took out the two toners she had purchased the day she ran into Daphne. She wrapped them carefully—one for Viviana, one for Daphne.
If they accept them, wonderful. If not, there is nothing more I can do.
Hoping they would see the gesture for what it was, Harriet called for a messenger.
*
A few days later, a welcome reply arrived.
"Dear Miss Harriet,
I was deeply moved by the kindness and gentleness in your letter and gift. Thank you.
If it would not be an imposition, I would be delighted to join you for tea.
— Viviana Delus"
Harriet had figured there was a fifty-fifty chance Viviana would either resent her or welcome the outreach. Fortunately, it was the latter.
However, no reply came from Daphne. Nor did she return the gift.
It was common courtesy to send a thank-you note upon accepting a gift, and Daphne was not someone ignorant of etiquette. Harriet found the silence puzzling.
Still, I should be satisfied that she didn't reject it outright. I’ll just consider it a promotional expense, Harriet thought, shaking off her disappointment.
Daphne, however, was far from indifferent.
"What am I going to do?"
Daphne sighed, her fingers tracing the bottle of lavender toner. It was already half-empty.
When the gift and letter had arrived from Harriet, Daphne’s first instinct had been one of relief and joy. The letter was short, but it felt sincere. Daphne had immediately sprayed the scent on her pillow that very night.
How should I word the reply?
With a fluttering heart, she had taken out her finest stationery and picked up her pen.
She wrote, "Dear Miss Harriet Listerwell," then immediately drew two lines through the surname. She couldn't bring herself to address Harriet so formally yet.
On the sheet—which had essentially become a rough draft—Daphne jotted down her honest thoughts.
"...I apologize for my behavior that day. I caused you a great deal of trouble, didn't I?
Even so, I cannot express how grateful I am for your kindness. I used the lavender toner immediately, and the scent is truly wonderful. I believe I’ll finally be able to sleep peacefully tonight.
If I may be so bold, might I ask when we could meet? I would very much like to share a cup of tea with you."
Daphne, having revised the letter until it was perfect, neatly copied it onto a fresh sheet. She smiled brightly for the first time in weeks. She called her maid and instructed her to have the letter delivered.
I should have just called a messenger and sent it myself, Daphne lamented now, staring at the ceiling.
That day, the maid had headed downstairs with the letter, only to be intercepted by the Butler.
"What is that?"
"Oh, Mr. Butler! The young lady asked me to run an errand with this letter."
"Is that so? Hand it over. I was just about to send the Count’s correspondence and have already called for a courier. We can send it with his."
The maid handed it over without a second thought. But when the Butler saw the name "Listerwell" on the envelope, he turned pale and took it straight to Count Laurel.
The Count’s reaction had been explosive.
"I still loathe those Listerwell scoundrels! And Harriet Listerwell, of all people? What business do you have corresponding with a girl of such ill repute?"
Summoned by her father, Daphne had stammered through a defense of Harriet. She explained that Harriet had severed ties with her family and was a different person now.
It did nothing to quell the Count’s fury.
"Nonsense! You must choose your associates with care. If you get involved with that troublemaker, you’ll be dragged down by whatever scandal she stirs up next. I’m burning this."
Without hesitation, he tossed the letter into the fireplace.
Since then, Count Laurel had personally vetted every piece of mail Daphne tried to send. It had been over ten days, and she was still unable to reply. Meanwhile, she used the lavender toner every single night because it was the only thing that helped her sleep.
She’s going to think I’m so incredibly rude. What am I going to do?
Daphne could only let out a long, heavy sigh.
*
Sensing that Viviana was ready to distance herself from Bella, Harriet sent another letter a week later, suggesting a specific time for tea. Viviana accepted immediately.
"I’ll be hosting a guest in my private quarters for the first time," Harriet noted.
She had politely declined Trisha’s offer to use the main drawing room. She wasn't inviting a crowd, and she didn't want to give the impression that she was hiding behind the prestige of the Fellon family.
Strawberry black tea for the drink... and for the sweets, raspberry cake and chocolate financiers.
A faint, satisfied smile spread across Harriet’s lips as she personally oversaw the preparations for the afternoon.