Chapter 11

“This despicable, shameless thief not only steals from our family but dares to tarnish my sister’s virtue! He’s a demon! Oh, my poor Lauren—if she heard this scoundrel’s vile words, she’d faint in terror. Heavens! I can barely breathe.” Freya nestled against her husband, Viscount Garrett, who held his delicate wife protectively and glared coldly at the defendant in the courtroom. “Your Honor,” he said, “I am too furious for words. This ungrateful, shameless villain deserves death!”

I jolted awake, wiping cold sweat from my brow—it was just another nightmare. Today, Viscount Garrett was set to visit, and the entire Baker Manor was steeped in tension. From the head butler and housekeeper down to the lowliest kitchen maid, every servant was bustling about.

At noon, we welcomed Viscount Garrett’s carriage in the biting cold wind. He was indeed advanced in years, with sparse gray hair, deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, and sagging eyelids, but his spirit was vigorous. The viscount warmly shook hands with Viscount Lloyd, like old friends reunited after a long separation.

After Garrett kissed Lady Lloyd’s hand, his gaze fell upon the two lovely young ladies behind her. The viscountess introduced, “These are my two daughters, Freya and Lauren.” After they curtsied, Freya suddenly smiled brightly: “My lord, are you the viscount who lives in Cortez?” Her voice was as clear as a lark’s, brimming with innocence.

Garrett immediately returned the smile and said gently, “Yes, my lovely lady. I am deeply honored to be mentioned by such a beauty as yourself.” Freya tilted her head and asked, “I heard there’s a thousand-year-old tree in your estate. Could you tell me about it?”

Viscount Lloyd looked at his second daughter, who was suddenly so enthusiastic, and wondered: Didn’t she refuse before? Why has she become so eager now?

“Oh, Freya, you’re being so rude. Lord Garrett has only just arrived,” the viscountess scolded, then smiled at Garrett and said, “Welcome, please come in. You must be freezing.”

Freya playfully stuck out her tongue at Garrett where her mother couldn’t see, and the viscount burst into laughter, clearly quite taken with this lively young girl. Led by the viscount and his wife, he entered the castle, while the two young ladies lagged behind and exchanged a glance.

“I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided to marry him,” Freya said.

“I thought Sister hated that old man,” Lauren whispered in response.

“Now it seems he’s not that old, and he seems to like me more,” Freya lifted her chin.

“As long as Sister doesn’t dislike him,” Lauren lowered her head, her expression unreadable.

Freya smiled triumphantly and linked arms with her sister. “Alright, we should go in now.”

In the servants’ quarters, a few servants were chatting. “Just as one baron left, another viscount arrives. These young ladies’ marriages are full of twists and turns.”

“Who do you think Lord Garrett will propose to?” one servant asked.

“If the young lady gets married, will she bring her personal maids with her?” another added.

“Maybe she’ll bring a personal manservant instead,” someone said with a suggestive wink.

“What nonsense are you spouting!” A stern female voice interrupted their conversation. The servants scrambled to their feet, nervously staring at the housekeeper, Rachelia.

“Gossiping behind backs and discussing your masters—is this all you’re good for? If you don’t want your jobs, replacements can be found anytime!” After the servants scattered, Rachelia slumped exhaustedly into a chair.

“Are you alright? Are you ill?” I asked with concern.

“Oh, Toker, you startled me, appearing so suddenly,” Rachelia said, clutching her chest.

“I’m sorry for frightening you,” I apologized. “I was just worried. You don’t look well—should we call a doctor?”

“No, no, that’s unnecessary,” she shook her head. “I’m fine. It’s just that there’s been some unpleasant gossip among the servants lately…”

“What are they saying?” I asked.

“It’s a disgrace to me as a housekeeper that such rumors are spreading in this household. Who’s spreading these lies? I must find out! At such a sensitive time, what if the masters hear of it?” Rachelia seemed distraught.

“Is it about that matter concerning Miss Freya Lloyd?” I asked in a hushed voice.

“You! You’ve heard it too? What should we do?” Rachelia said anxiously.

In everyone’s eyes, I’ve always presented myself as a silent and reserved person, never listening to others’ discussions, so Rachelia thinks that if even I know about this matter, it must have reached a very serious point.

“Do you think I should tell the mistress and let her punish them?” Rachelia asked me.

“Miss Freya Lloyd would never do such a despicable thing. If you bring it up specifically, it would only tarnish her reputation, and the mistress would surely blame you. It’s better for you to suppress it privately. Once Miss Freya Lloyd is married, this matter will be over,” I suggested.

Rachelia fell into thought upon hearing this. I stood quietly by her side, waiting for her to make up her mind. After a while, she suddenly asked me uncertainly, “Could the second young lady really have something with Bayou? They’re always laughing and chatting together.”

I hurriedly made a “shh” gesture: “What nonsense are you saying? It’s bad enough that the servants are gossiping, but you should be suppressing it, not joining in the suspicion!”

Rachelia paled and said, “You’re right, Toker. Thank you.”

“You’re too kind,” I replied.

Rachelia hurriedly left the servants’ quarters, and the black shadows from the candlestick fell across my face.

At the evening party, Freya kept holding Garrett’s arm, and they seemed to have become close friends. The viscount and his wife also looked pleased.

“Freya has grown up and learned to use her wits. Look how happy she’s made Garrett—he’s completely smitten with her. His eyes haven’t left her all evening,” the viscountess laughed.

The viscount also sighed in relief: “I knew Garrett would like Freya. He prefers lively girls, and while Lauren is beautiful, she’s quiet and elegant. Thankfully, Freya changed her mind.”

“Do you think he’ll propose to her?” the viscountess asked.

“Don’t rush. Even if he proposes, it’ll take some time. Who proposes right after meeting? You must entertain Garrett well and make him feel at home. With Garrett’s support, we won’t have to worry about the future,” the viscount said.

Not far away, Lauren watched her happy sister with a complicated expression.

During the party, the ladies frequently changed outfits. In the dressing room, Lauren grabbed one of Freya’s dresses and ran her hands over it.

The young girl’s pale fingers lightly touched the luxurious satin, like white pearls rolling across it. Suddenly, Lauren’s emerald eyes turned sharp, and she began tearing at the silk fiercely, as if she wanted to rip the beautiful dress to shreds. Fortunately, the fabric was sturdy, and no matter how hard she tried, it only left slight marks.

“Good heavens, Lauren, what are you doing?”

The familiar shriek came from Lauren’s mother. Lauren turned around in a panic, and the dress fell from her hands. The viscountess quickly picked it up and sighed in relief upon seeing it wasn’t torn. She said, “Even if you’re angry, you shouldn’t do such a thing. She’s your own sister. Even if you can’t marry Viscount Garrett, if you ruin your sister’s chance, what will become of our family?”

Lauren smiled self-mockingly and retorted, “If tearing her dress ruins her chance, then that chance was too fragile to begin with.”

“You’ve always been smarter than your sister. You deserve better, my dear daughter,” the viscountess comforted her.

“Better? Without money, where would ‘better’ come from?” Lauren sighed. “If it weren’t for this family, I’d love to tear Freya’s face apart.”

“You’re sisters! Don’t say such things!” The viscountess frantically waved her fan, as if struggling to breathe again.

“Mother, do you think our cousin will still come?” Lauren asked worriedly.

“Cousin? You mean the hunchbacked one?” The viscountess looked puzzled.

“Who else do we have besides him?” Lauren replied with a frown.

The viscountess patted Lauren on the shoulder and comforted her, “Don’t worry, he’ll come back. Even if he doesn’t, we’ll find a way to make him return and then have him marry you.”

“What way? He’s not interested in me at all,” Lauren said helplessly.

“He’s set to inherit your father’s title—how can he take the benefits but refuse to marry you? Such a good deal doesn’t exist! Rest assured, I won’t let you suffer.” The viscountess’s eyes flickered as she whispered, “If he doesn’t know what’s good for him, we’ll make him disappear. After that, there’s always the more remote Lloyd to inherit…”