She was a beauty with elegantly swept-up blonde hair and vibrant blue eyes.
Crossing the street, the woman who stopped in front of them smiled faintly as she spoke.
“Mr. Richard.”
“…Miss Denoir.”
Charlotte’s eyes looked upwards. Richard’s expression remained largely unchanged. However, his voice suggested that this meeting was unexpected. The woman’s eyes softened.
“I didn’t expect to see you here by chance.”
“Indeed, it’s been a while.”
His voice was so dry, it bordered on terse. At times, he seemed almost annoyed. In contrast, the woman called Denoir had a look of lingering affection. It was an intriguing atmosphere, almost as if she was facing an ex-lover.
As if noticing for the first time, Denoir shifted her gaze to Charlotte standing next to Richard, then turned back to him.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
It felt like an arrow had suddenly struck. Charlotte clenched her fists around the box she was holding, and a brief reply came.
“She’s my companion.”
“Excuse me?”
As if doubting what she heard, she tilted her head, prompting Richard to repeat himself.
“She’s my companion. Is there something you’d like to know?”
“Well…”
Denoir seemed caught off guard by his demeanor, hesitating before she responded.
“I see. You’re under no obligation to explain.”
Her smile was strained as if she could hardly manage to pull herself together. Charlotte wondered what expression he was making. She wanted to look up and see but didn’t dare muster the courage. His face probably exuded a chill, like a finely sculpted porcelain doll.
“I’m glad you made it back safely. …I know it’s a late greeting.”
“Thank you.”
Richard nodded with a lack of enthusiasm, visibly embarrassing Charlotte.
“You’ll be coming to Miss Kiara’s birthday celebration, won’t you?”
“Perhaps.”
“Then I’ll see you there.”
No reply came. Overcome by the awkward silence, Denoir was the first to end the conversation.
“I… have somewhere to be, so I must be going. It was nice seeing you.”
“It was nice seeing you too.”
The brief conversation felt more like a scripted dialogue from a predetermined play. Only after the other had left did the suffocating silence finally break. Richard began walking again, and Charlotte quietly followed him, or rather, attempted to, but then Richard stopped and turned around.
“Stand beside me.”
Charlotte shook her head.
“No, I prefer it this way.”
Standing side by side in such a public place was almost like inviting rumors. Charlotte emphasized her point.
“Really.”
Richard looked down at her silently. Her green eyes were wide; initially, they smelled of flowers, now they smelled like freshly cut grass. It was a wonder she spoke her mind so directly, seeming naïve and yet audacious.
He was becoming more curious and intrigued by her.
“I didn’t know my secretary was lacking in memory.”
He murmured to himself, then added, “You sat beside me on the way here.”
“But, that was…”
Back then, there were no prying eyes, and there were only two seats available.
She choked on her words but swallowed them back. The thought of sitting next to him on the return journey made her heart pound retrospectively.
“How could I have talked so much on the way here?” She pondered in silence, amazed that he had just listened without interest.
“Still, I thought it would be rude to you.”
Her voice was nearly a whisper now.
“What rudeness?”
“Well…”
No further words came to her as she looked down, fumbling for words, when a large hand approached her face. Before she could stiffen in surprise, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and moved away. Charlotte froze, heart thumping strangely.
“Richard.”
“…Yes?”
“Call me by my name. I prefer it to any formalities.”
“…”
“‘Sir’ and such are irritating to hear.”
With that, Richard started walking again, and Charlotte quickly followed, her face flushed. The brief encounter felt almost dreamlike.
They had barely resumed walking when the carriage they had arrived in came into view, already being brought over by a stable boy who had been notified in advance.
***
Upon returning to the manor, everything was quiet. Charlotte went through the back door to the basement kitchen, where she finally heard people talking. She passed by the kitchen, where the cook and the maids were busy, and went straight to her room.
She climbed the stairs without meeting anyone and was about to open her room door when she found her mother, Cynthia, awake and knitting. Raising her head, Cynthia called out to her daughter.
“Charlotte.”
“Yes, Mom.”
Regaining her composure, Charlotte approached her.
“Where have you been? I woke up and you weren’t there.”
“I just went for a short walk. The scenery nearby is quite nice.”
“There’s a lot to see around here. The lake is just a 20-minute walk away.”
“Really? That sounds wonderful. I should go see it sometime.”
“Yes, take some time to go.”
They exchanged mundane, everyday conversations. A sudden question burst from Charlotte as she sat on the carpet.
“Do you know a Miss Denoir?”
“…Miss Denoir?”
Her mother’s hands, busy with her knitting, suddenly stopped. Charlotte regretted her impulsive curiosity that led to mentioning the name.
“She was Sir Richard’s former fiancée.”
The use of the past tense made Charlotte lift her head.
“After the young master returned from the war, they broke off the engagement. Sadly, both of them…”
Cynthia murmured, sighing deeply, a weight in her voice. Charlotte stiffened at her mother’s words.
‘Remember, Charlotte, don’t mention Richard in front of your mother,’ Janice’s warning echoed in her mind. Cynthia, frail in nerves, was oblivious to this one person.
‘No, Mom. Sir Richard, the young master, he’s not dead. He’s alive. He was with me just a moment ago.’
Suppressing the lump in her throat, Charlotte rose abruptly. The once comfortable setting now felt like a bed of thorns. She could hardly bear seeing her mother like this.
Caught off guard by her sudden movement, Cynthia looked at her curiously. Before her mother could speak, Charlotte preempted her.
“Mom, have you taken your second dose of medicine today?”
“Ah… I suppose it’s time for that, isn’t it?”
“You’re supposed to take it three times a day.”
The scolding was merely a diversion, and Charlotte felt ashamed even as she spoke. Unaware or not of her daughter’s intentions, Cynthia smiled weakly.
“I didn’t realize. I haven’t looked at the clock.”
“I’ll get some water for you. Just wait here.”
“Thank you.”
Charlotte quickly left the room and headed downstairs, feeling a tightness in her chest despite having just arrived. She planned to ask the maids to return the pocket watch she had forgotten to give back, not feeling up to facing the owner directly. She would simply ask them to leave it on the bedside table during cleaning.
Descending to the basement, the first person Charlotte encountered was Janice, not surprisingly, since the housekeeper’s room was next to the kitchen. Janice’s eyes widened in surprise, then returned to normal.
“Charlotte.”
“…Madam.”
“Coming from somewhere?”
Charlotte was taken aback by the unexpected question. She had sent her on an errand involving medicine bottles, so she assumed Janice knew about her outing with Richard. However, Janice’s expression suggested she was clueless.
“I just went down to the village for a bit.”
While she omitted some details, it wasn’t an outright lie. Given Janice’s disapproval of her closeness with Richard, it wasn’t wise to divulge everything.
“…I see.”
Janice nodded, lowering her eyes to close a container of tea leaves she had been organizing. Charlotte, watching her carefully, reached for a pitcher on the table to fill a glass.
As Janice turned to leave, she suddenly spoke again.
“There’s something in your pocket.”
“Ah, this is…”
Charlotte was caught off guard by Janice’s sharp observation, unsure how to explain.
“Madam Janice.”
While Charlotte was trying to think quickly, a maid connected to the main hall peeked in. She was a personal servant to the Countess. As Janice looked up, the maid spoke.
“The Countess is looking for you.”
“What for?”
“Just that she’s asking for you to come up…”
The maid trailed off ambiguously. Officially, she was subordinate to the housekeeper, but in reality, their influence was nearly equal, each the only one who could truly challenge the other at Mistymoor Hall.
“Alright. I’ll go up right now.”
Janice wiped her wet hands on her apron and headed for the staircase.
“Yes, I need to prepare the tea service. You go ahead.”
After a brief exchange of glances, they passed each other on the stairs. Charlotte seized the moment to grab the filled glass. She intended to quietly head back upstairs.
As she moved towards the servant’s stairs, a voice called from behind.
“Wait a moment.”
“Me?”
“Who else would it be?”
The maid, who had been organizing the tea leaves, snapped back, not even looking at Charlotte as she continued her task.
“I heard you’re the nursemaid’s daughter. If you want to stay here long, it’s best not to rely too much on that woman.”
It was clear she meant Janice. Charlotte felt an immediate indignation; though Janice was somewhat enigmatic lately, she had always been a kind and close friend of her mother.
“I don’t understand what you mean. Isn’t that my choice?”
The maid scoffed at Charlotte’s defiant response.
“Just some advice since you seem bothered. But do as you please if you want to fall out of favor with the lady.”
Why would being close to Janice disturb the Countess? Charlotte watched silently as the maid then removed a steaming teapot from the hearth, adding, “From your reaction, it seems you didn’t know. Janice Brown was the Earl’s mistress before his marriage.”
“…”
“Be smart about how you handle yourself. She’s a snake, and you don’t want to stir trouble unnecessarily.”
Left speechless, Charlotte stood frozen as the maid quickly arranged the tea service and ascended the stairs.
🍉🍉🍉
