Chapter 8
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 8
Cedric remained silent, tracing his lips with a finger. He looked subtly displeased.
One of the more observant men in the group quickly lowered his voice and offered a cautious apology.
“I apologize for bringing up that incident, Your Grace. You must still be upset…”
“No, not at all. It’s just… I recall saying it was fine at the time. I find myself wondering why she was sent to the convent.”
The man who had broached the topic was quick to answer.
“That day’s incident was merely the final straw for Viscount Listerwell. In truth, Lady Harriet had been a problem long before then. Sending her away for a full year isn’t an excessive punishment, I assure you.”
Cedric’s brow furrowed slightly at the mention of ‘a year.’
“It wouldn’t be easy for a noble lady to endure such a long stay in a convent. Is she particularly devout?”
“Hardly! It simply means she’s the kind of woman who wouldn’t come to her senses any other way.”
The others murmured in agreement, clicking their tongues or sneering. But Cedric, the supposed ‘victim’ of the scandal, did not join them.
“It seems my overreaction has caused her undue hardship.”
“Overreacting? On the contrary, Your Grace was incredibly generous! If it were me, I would have forgotten all gentlemanly conduct and slapped the girl across the face.”
“Indeed! A frivolous woman who does nothing but chase after men… how dare she!”
As one man made a sharp gesture as if striking someone, the group burst into laughter.
Cedric found the entire display repulsive: the unilateral slandering of a woman, the shameless talk of physical violence, and the way they dismissed it all as a joke. What bothered him most, however, was that he was the catalyst for the entire affair.
To be entangled in such vulgar rumors is precisely what I detest.
Suddenly, Harriet’s face—as he had last seen it—flashed through his mind.
“I didn’t steal Your Grace’s brooch. I never even wanted it in the first place.”
He remembered a woman surrounded by accusers, insisting on her innocence until the bitter end. A woman who, with a touch of haughtiness, claimed she had no desire for such a trifle.
Her appearance wasn't bad, if I recall correctly.
While Bella was a striking beauty, her cousin Harriet had distinct, well-defined features. She certainly wasn't unattractive. It was simply that her clothes and hairstyle never suited her, and her skin had been marred by breakouts and rashes.
In truth, what he had disliked that day wasn't Harriet herself, but the atmosphere. The fawning, cowardly sycophants who slandered a young woman were utterly loathsome—so much so that the humiliation of seeing his brooch pinned to Harriet’s chest had been almost forgotten.
I dismissed the matter, so why did they send her away? Is Viscount Listerwell trying to garner sympathy using this incident?
The thought that someone he didn't even know might be trying to use him made his stomach churn. Cedric picked up his glass and drained it in one gulp. The refreshing fizz of the sparkling wine took the edge off his irritation.
“It seems the break is over. The players are taking the field.”
As he shifted the topic back to the polo match, the men’s conversation, which had been turning lewd, finally died down. Instead, they began to passionately debate their wagers and which team would take the win, speaking with such fervor that they practically spat.
This topic was equally tedious to Cedric, but he was satisfied that the rumors involving his name had ceased.
“Which team did Your Grace bet on?”
In response to the man beside him, Cedric pointed to the team in green vests and offered a smooth, practiced smile. He had only just decided, but it didn't particularly matter.
*
“Just one person gone, and the house feels so much more pleasant. Ah, what a wonderful feeling.”
Bella muttered the words to herself, savoring the early summer breeze. Miriam, who was working on her embroidery nearby, set down her hoop and fixed her daughter with a stern look.
“Bella. As I told you before, you must be extremely careful with your conduct from now on. As you said, Harriet is gone.”
“But Mother! I was born with such a beautiful face; it would be a tragedy to live knowing only one husband. Besides, I’ve gained so much from those men.”
There was a reason the Viscount and Viscountess Listerwell condoned Bella’s flirtations. Bella wasn’t just seeking amusement; she was wheedling gifts and favors out of her suitors—everything from expensive personal trinkets to sensitive information regarding family businesses.
“I know. Thanks to you, your untalented father has made a decent sum. But now, we must prepare for something far greater than that.”
“Marriage, you mean?”
Bella snickered, dismissive as always, but Miriam continued her nagging.
“Bella. What have I told you is most important in a man?”
“Family and wealth.”
“And what kind of daughter-in-law do distinguished, wealthy families desire?”
“They want a beautiful, kind, and pure woman.”
“Yes, you know it well.”
Of course she did. Had she not spent years cultivating the image of the ‘beautiful, kind, and pure Bella Listerwell’?
But Bella’s true self was nothing of the sort. Having been praised for her striking looks since childhood, she found immense pleasure in toying with the men who fell for her. Even as a young girl, she had enjoyed manipulating the boys her age, turning them into her pawns and instigating fights for her own amusement. To suddenly expect her to act like a demure lady at eighteen was a lost cause.
“You are currently the most sought-after bride among the matchmakers of High Society. What if rumors spread that you are loose?”
“My reputation is spotless, isn’t it? That’s why the House of Levin even sent a marriage proposal.”
The House of Levin was a family of considerable wealth and renowned piety. Their eldest son had fallen deeply for Bella—not just for her beauty, but for her angelic words and saint-like demeanor.
“Are you going to be satisfied with the House of Levin? You should be aiming for a Count’s family at the very least.”
“Of course!”
“A Count’s family will be far more thorough in vetting a prospective bride. Even a small mistake could ruin your prospects.”
“I haven’t been caught yet, have I? Isn’t that enough?”
Miriam let out a heavy sigh. “That was when Harriet was around to take the fall!”
At that, Bella let out a sharp snort of laughter.
“Ah, it was so much fun to toy with her. It’s good that she’s gone, but it’s a bit of a shame I won’t get to see her stomping around in frustration anymore.”
Harriet Listerwell, the infamous scandal maker of High Society.
In reality, every one of those scandals had been Bella’s doing. She had simply pinned them on Harriet. As a result, Harriet—who had never even held a man’s hand—was rumored to be utterly debauched.
When marriage proposals are exchanged, those rumors will always be brought up. Even after she leaves the convent, she’ll never be able to marry well.
One corner of Bella’s mouth twisted into a cruel smirk. Sensing the shift in her daughter’s mood, Miriam called her name in a warning tone.
“Bella.”
“Alright, Mother. I understand.”
Just then, Aston entered the room. In his hand was a bouquet of flowers, likely plucked and arranged by the gardener. He kissed Miriam’s cheek and presented them to her.
“What is this for, Aston?”
“Must there be a reason to give my mother flowers?”
“Oh my! My son is so thoughtful.”
Miriam was touched, inhaling the scent of the blooms, but Bella watched from the side with a mocking sneer.
“He’s definitely run out of pocket money.”
Aston’s face flushed instantly, proving her right.
“Wh-what are you talking about! Don’t try to sow discord between Mother and me. Anyway, what were you two talking about?”
To Aston, who was desperate to change the subject, Miriam recounted their conversation without suspicion. Aston listened, then asked with a sly grin.
“But why do you hate Harriet so much, Sister? I agree she’s an eyesore, but you seem intent on completely ruining her.”
Perhaps Aston had hit a nerve, for Bella’s smile turned cold.
“If you don’t need a reason to give Mother flowers, then I don’t need a reason to hate Harriet.”
“What? I don’t follow.”
“There’s no need to understand. I just dislike her. No reason at all—I simply loathe her.”
Bella giggled again. There was no need to show her darker side to her mother and brother.