As the air rushed back into her lungs, Charlotte coughed violently, struggling to catch her breath. With great effort, she managed to lift her upper body and clutched her neck with both hands.
“Cough, cough…!”
“Charlotte!”
“Gasp, ha….”
“Are you alright?”
It was only when her frantic breathing began to stabilize that she could finally look up. Standing there, holding a small object, was Finn. He quickly put down what he was holding and, still catching his breath from the shock, spoke softly.
“I was coming to get more drinks when I heard strange noises, so I came to check.”
“Th-thank you…”
Her heart still pounded with fear, and tears welled up in her eyes, falling uncontrollably.
“That man is…”
“Probably one of the guests.”
“C-could he be…”
Sensing her rising anxiety, Finn quickly checked the man’s pulse and added with relief.
“He’s not dead. He’s just heavily drunk and won’t remember anything by morning.”
“Thank goodness… thank goodness…”
“Now, let’s get you up. I’ll take care of the rest.”
As Charlotte was helped to her feet, she noticed something shiny in Finn’s vest pocket. Instinctively, she reached out for it. Finn, seemingly unaware, turned to grip the doorknob.
“Charlotte, what’s wrong? We need to get out of here…”
“Let go!”
“Charlotte!”
“Why do you have this? Why is this with you?”
“…”
In her palm was a ring, a platinum band with three diamonds set in the center. Finn, momentarily speechless, finally began to speak.
“It’s just a coincidence…”
Click.
“Ahhh!”
The door on the opposite side opened, and a maid’s shrill scream echoed through the mansion. The commotion quickly drew a crowd.
“What on earth is going on, gasp…!”
“There’s… there’s a dead man!”
“Ahhhhh!”
“Everyone, quiet down!”
Fortunately, the screams hadn’t reached the ballroom, so only the staff had gathered. Janice, who had somehow arrived amidst the chaos, sharply examined Charlotte from head to toe.
Disheveled hair, disordered clothes, bloodshot eyes from burst capillaries, a swollen cheek, and handprints on her neck.
As silence fell under Janice’s commanding presence, she bent down to check the fallen man’s pulse, sighed softly, and issued her orders.
“Quietly bring the Earl here and take her to a bed. Do it discreetly, without drawing any more attention.”
***
Due to the unexpected incident, the party, which was supposed to continue past midnight, ended a bit early. Normally, the atmosphere would be buzzing with excitement after such a grand event, but things had changed.
Under the efficient direction of the manager, the staff went about their cleanup tasks silently. In the midst of this heavy atmosphere stood Charlotte Hegel, the outsider.
The Earl’s gaze, cold and piercing, bore into her as she explained what had happened, standing before him like a criminal.
“…and in the struggle, I saw the piece and hit him on the head with it.”
“You had the presence of mind for that? You’re more composed than I thought.”
Luckily, the man had only suffered minor injuries and his life wasn’t in danger. Since he was one of Chloe’s carefully selected guests, it would be problematic if relations soured. Although he was heavily drunk, they could smooth things over with some coaxing. Nevertheless, the fact that something like this happened in his villa was deeply unsettling for the Earl, regardless of who was at fault.
Leaning back in his chair, Seymour listened silently, rubbing his face in exhaustion.
“So why was the kitchen errand boy there?”
“He heard my scream and came running.”
Charlotte raised her eyes. Thankfully, the lie slipped out smoothly. Although Finn had intervened to save her, the man he had harmed was a noble. If the noble decided to press charges, Finn could face severe punishment, possibly even imprisonment.
Ethelwood was still a rigidly hierarchical society. It would be easy to throw a small errand boy into a filthy, stinking, harsh prison cell in the blink of an eye.
She didn’t yet know why Finn had the ring, but that was a problem for another time. She couldn’t repay his help with betrayal.
The Earl’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he seemed unwilling to press the disheveled woman further.
“…Alright, you may go.”
Instead of replying, Charlotte bowed deeply and exited the room. Left alone, Seymour tried to gather his thoughts. But within minutes, there was a knock at the door. He tried to ignore the pounding in his head, but the persistent knocking continued.
“Come in.”
He finally gave in. Janice entered briskly and asked directly.
“What have you decided to do?”
“About what?”
“I’m talking about Charlotte Hegel.”
Janice’s eyebrows shot up at the evasive answer, and she pressed aggressively.
“She’s just a temporary guest causing trouble. Shouldn’t she be thrown out immediately?”
Her prepared tirade made Seymour’s head throb again.
“It was just a drunken mistake by the baron. Charlotte Hegel was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Handling the situation quietly and without further complications seemed best, especially if Chloe remained unaware.
Sensing his thoughts, Janice clenched and unclenched her fist before speaking with a meaningful tone.
“Well, are you sure about that?”
“What are you implying?”
“She’s Cynthia’s daughter, and I thought she’d be leaving soon anyway, so I didn’t mention it. But it turns out she’s quite the flirt.”
“What?”
“She was practically chased out of her last job a few years ago.”
Seymour’s eyes narrowed sharply, signaling her to continue. She smiled slightly as she spoke.
“She was accused of seducing the young master of the house she worked for…”
“Rumors aren’t always trustworthy.”
He spoke firmly, though he was visibly taken aback. Janice seized the opportunity to continue.
“That’s not all. When young master Richard was shot, it seemed suspicious even then.”
“What do you mean?”
As expected, he was completely caught off guard by the name and stood up abruptly.
“The culprit was that very young master. He came to see Charlotte Hegel.”
Janice drove the point home, watching his shocked expression.
“Do you still think she’s just an innocent victim?”
A heavy silence fell over the room. After a long pause, the Earl, his face flushed with anger, gave his order.
“Throw her out at dawn.”
His tone left no room for reconsideration. He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
The pounding on her door woke Charlotte, who had been tossing and turning all night due to the pain in her neck and cheek. The command to pack her things and leave was like a bolt from the blue.
Before she could even react, Janice coldly informed her.
“You have until sunrise to pack. Otherwise, you’ll be thrown out with nothing.”
Charlotte’s lips moved to protest, but Janice’s stern demeanor left no room for argument. She had no choice. Fortunately, she didn’t have much to pack, so it didn’t take long. As she donned her coat and stepped outside, Janice, who had been waiting against the wall, led the way with a stone cold expression.
“Don’t worry about Cynthia. Let us know once you’re settled, and we’ll send for her.”
It was a surprisingly considerate gesture, given the harshness of throwing out a woman who had just been assaulted. Charlotte, carrying her belongings, stopped in her tracks.
“I…”
“…”
“I don’t understand why you’re being so cruel to me while caring for my mother.”
Janice also paused at the unexpected words.
“You care about my mother, your friend, yet you treat me, her daughter, so harshly.”
This was undoubtedly Janice’s doing. In the study, Seymour Kensington had not seemed inclined to throw her out. Even if he had been concerned about the scandal and decided to send her away later, he wouldn’t have done it in such a manner—whether out of concern for appearances or his own conscience.
The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon. A red band of light emerged from the distant sea, casting a faint glow over the island. As the oppressive silence weighed down on her, Janice finally replied.
“Because you coveted the only thing that was mine.”
It was an unexpected remark. Charlotte had anticipated accusations of overstepping or being out of line. It felt like someone had struck her over the head with a blunt object.
“When have I ever…!”
She staggered, her hand trembling as it gripped the wall for support.
“I’ve never coveted anything of yours.”
All she had wanted was just…
Just…
Heat surged to her eyes, tears welling up beneath her bloodshot whites. Janice, who had turned away, swiftly approached. Before Charlotte could react, Janice grabbed her chin, forcing their faces close together, and whispered menacingly.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
“…”
“Yes, it might be love now. For now. But tell me this.”
Her eyes glinted more menacingly than the man who had attacked Charlotte. The overwhelming madness left Charlotte breathless.
“How long do you think that will last?”
Charlotte realized that the older woman before her wasn’t looking at her. She was staring into a distant past, one much older than the present.
‘Choose, Janice. Will you leave on your own, or be dragged out?’
‘My lord, I…I love Seymour…!’
‘If you leave, I will find you a good marriage. I even have a letter of introduction ready.’
‘…’
‘It’s entirely your choice.’
A young Janice stood before an impregnable fortress.
‘I will leave.’
She began to show signs of pregnancy after she had already made her choice. It was too late by then.
‘You abandoned me.’
‘Seymour!’
When she returned, heavily pregnant, she was no longer greeted by the lover she once knew.
Her face twisted with blood rushing in, filled with frustration, misery, anger, and shame—too pitiful to even look at.
“They took my child from me the moment it was born. Before the fever from my difficult labor had even subsided!”
Charlotte froze. This was the first she had heard of it. The shocking confession left her unable to breathe deeply.
So, maybe…
Janice turned her head away from Charlotte’s pale face and released her grip.
“If you go around talking about this, you’ll never see Cynthia again.”
Charlotte collapsed, overwhelmed by the airtight threat. Any mercy or consideration for a friend was completely gone. The long-time companion was now merely a tool for blackmail.
“One last thing.”
Charlotte’s voice was barely a whisper as she addressed the woman who had turned her back.
“That man, does he have anything to do with you?”
“Who knows.”
Janice’s ambiguous reply came as she walked away.
“Think whatever you want.”
That was the end of their conversation.
Waiting by the back door, a carriage soon rolled up silently. The coachman stepped down and extended his hand.
“Give me your luggage.”
“…Thank you.”
Charlotte’s face was as pale as if she might collapse at any moment. The coachman started to ask if she was alright, but the deep sorrow in her eyes made him hold his tongue.
🍉🍉🍉
T/N: If you haven’t noticed, I’ve also created a Ko-Fi profile in case you want to show some support! (no pressure though). You can see the link if you click on the little attachment beside my name!
Eu acho que o Richard é filho da Janice…