Chapter 26

Despite the baron’s verbal promise, I underestimated Viscount Lloyd’s initiative. That morning, the viscount appeared in the baron’s study and bluntly brought up inheritance and marriage.

“Austin, my dear nephew, perhaps there were misunderstandings between me and your father—those were the follies of my youth. Can’t you forgive your poor uncle?” The viscount began weakly, his aged face looking pitiful.

The baron replied, “I don’t understand. I’ve never blamed you.”

The viscount pressed on, “Then why won’t you marry Freya or Lauren? Maybe you dislike Freya, but I can tell you at least don’t hate Lauren.”

“My lord…” the baron tried to explain.

“Is it because Lauren has no dowry? But my dear nephew, you’ll inherit my title and manor. This is customary—how it’s always been. You should marry my daughter,” the viscount rambled.

The baron sighed. “I apologize, but I cannot comply.”

“Do you have a woman you love? Does she have a large dowry? What dowry could rival Baker Manor!” the viscount demanded.

“I don’t have a woman I like, I just don’t want to get married yet, so I don’t intend to delay your daughter.” The viscount stood up anxiously, “It’s fine if you don’t want to marry now, you can get engaged first, and my daughter can wait for you.”

The baron shook his head. He glanced at me first, then said, “I have no special feelings for Miss Lauren Lloyd, so I won’t marry her.”

The viscount was furious—perhaps he had never faced such defiance, especially when he was pleading. His face instantly turned ashen, and his voice grew shrill, as if suppressing rage: “Do you know what people will say about you? They’ll call you heartless! You’ve taken our manor but refuse to marry my daughter, leaving my wife and daughter destitute on the streets after I’m gone!”

The baron crossed his arms, clearly displeased. The viscount paced the room, incessantly blaming: “I’ve abandoned my dignity to beg you, just to secure a future for my wife and daughter. Why must you be so cold-hearted! If my son were alive, why would I stoop so low to plead with you!”

“Viscount,” the baron stood up, looking at him solemnly, “my surname is Lloyd, passed down from my father, who was also grandfather’s son. He left Baker Manor with nothing because the law decreed everything belonged to you. So don’t forget, Baker Manor is yours only because you’re a Lloyd and the first heir. If it ever comes to me, it’ll be for the same reason.”

“You!” The viscount was left speechless.

The baron bowed slightly and said politely, “I apologize for my bluntness. I’m not ungrateful. If my cousin or aunt ever need me, I’ll help without hesitation, but marriage is out of the question.”

The viscount snorted heavily and left the study in silence.

Viscount Lloyd was no fool, so why had he suddenly become so assertive? The reason was simple: Count Gerard’s investment proposal. The viscount had secretly investigated and found this venture extraordinary, involving not just the royal family but many nobles. All claimed this trade route would bring huge profits.

With the prospect of great wealth, the viscount felt emboldened. Shedding his usual caution and grace, he confronted this estranged nephew he disliked, only to be utterly disappointed. Fuming, he sought out his wife and daughters.

“He refused, refused again! I’ve never been so humiliated—how dare he!” The viscount cursed, glaring at his daughters. “Useless fools! Didn’t you promise he’d like you? Yet he’d rather ruin his reputation than marry either of you!”

“That damned hunchback!” Freya clenched her handkerchief, seething. “Who does he think he is!”

Lauren was stunned. She’d assumed the baron would agree—after all, she’d worked hard to please him. Plus, given noble norms, he’d marry one of them to avoid scandal. Clearly, he disliked Freya, but why reject her too?

“I can’t stand staying here any longer!” the viscount complained, glaring around. “This lifeless house is like a tomb—no parties, no music, no guests. He’s a freak!”

“Hush, not so loud,” the viscountess whispered, fanning herself. “We wouldn’t be here if we had options. The bank’s hounding us for debt—what else could we do?”

“Then kill him!” the viscount snarled. “If he’s so heartless, he deserves to die!”

“Kill him? Do you think it’s that simple?” The viscountess shook her head. “He’s a shrewd man, not so easily dealt with.”

“Hmph!” The viscount narrowed his eyes, a cold smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “No matter how shrewd, he can’t possibly foresee everything.”

“Oh? What’s your plan?” asked the viscountess.

The viscount smiled but didn’t answer directly: “Once I get my hands on that thing, his life will be in my grasp. I need to think carefully… By the way, how much money do we have left?”

The viscountess sighed: “We have no money left at all.”

“Then dismiss the servants, sell the jewelry, liquidate everything we can,” the viscount said.

“What are you planning?” the viscountess asked curiously.

Stroking his mustache, the viscount replied confidently: “I’ve heard of a lucrative opportunity backed by the royal family. Even that damned brat invested £50,000. I can’t miss this chance—we need money to solve our immediate troubles.”

“£50,000!” The viscountess waved her fan vigorously in shock. “Such a fortune…”

“Hmph! He knew it was a sure profit, hence the bold investment. That day, he deliberately avoided me, not wanting me to know…” The viscount gloated. “Did he forget his personal valet once worked at our estate?”

“Toker,” Lauren interjected.

“Exactly, that clever lad,” the viscount said with a smile. “We’ll need his help to get that thing. You must find a way to win him over, by any means necessary…”

The weather had been unusually stifling these days, the damp heat rising from the soil lingering even at night. After assisting the baron, I rinsed off with cold water at the horse trough and walked toward the servants’ quarters, my hair still dripping.

Just as I reached the shaded corridor, someone gasped and threw themselves at me. I caught a soft body. “Oh, sorry, sorry! I slipped. Are you alright?” A gentle female voice murmured in my ear.

I looked up—it was the prettiest maid from Lauren’s entourage. The scene felt eerily familiar; it had happened in my past life too. “I’m fine. Are you unharmed?” I pushed her away.

“I’m well,” she replied softly. “Then rest now—it’s late.” I stepped around her.

Unexpectedly, she boldly pressed closer, rubbing her soft body against me, her intent unmistakable. She whispered, “Mr. Brant, I’ve admired you for so long… I think of you every night…”

I cut her off, shoving her away coldly. “Does Miss Lauren Lloyd know her maid behaves so wantonly? If this happens again, I’ll have to report it. Control yourself.”

The maid stared at me, stunned, as if she couldn’t believe I’d reject such an offer. Clenching my fists, I walked up the stairs without another word. If this wasn’t a coincidence, Lauren would soon make her move. She probably assumed a lowly valet like me could be swayed by a maid, but since I showed no mercy, she’d have to stomach her disgust and approach me herself. It happened the same way in my past life—back then, I’d been fooled, even believing the maid truly fancied me.

Sure enough, at noon the next day, I encountered Lauren deep in the garden. She seemed to have stumbled upon me by chance, right on my usual path.

“Toker,” she cooed sweetly.

“Good day, Miss Lloyd,” I bowed.

“Come sit with me,” she patted the spot beside her.

I remained standing cautiously and bowed again. “How may I serve you? I’m at your disposal.”

“Oh, you’re such a stickler for rules,” she complained softly, “but I like people like you.”

“You flatter me,” I responded.

Lauren picked up a rose from the flowers and held it to her lips, but her expression suddenly darkened. She said sorrowfully, “Toker, have you heard? Oh, right, you were there—you already knew.”

As she spoke, tears welled up in her eyes, falling in large drops, more genuine than any performance, heartbreakingly beautiful.

“…Miss, what’s wrong? Please don’t be sad…” I asked with concern.

“How can I not be sad? The baron rejected my father’s request. He begged him so humbly… It’s all my fault. I shamelessly tried to seduce him like some brazen woman. Oh, God, what have I done? I just didn’t want Father and Mother to suffer, wuwu…”

I handed her a handkerchief, but Lauren suddenly threw herself into my arms. She sobbed quietly, “What should I do? What should I do?”

I didn’t feel much, only the softness of her chest gently rubbing against me with each sob. This young lady always knew how to make men’s hearts flutter, even willing to go through fire for her. Pitifully, in my past life, I fell for such foolish tricks.

“Miss Lloyd, don’t be sad. There’ll be a way,” I comforted her softly.

“There isn’t, wuwu…” After crying for a while, she raised her tender eyes and stared at me blankly. “Toker, you’re such a good person, listening to my complaints. There must be many girls who like you. If it weren’t for me…”

With that, her face flushed red, and she covered her mouth, as if realizing she’d misspoken. She hurriedly stood up, silently gathered her skirt, and ran off.

Of course, she didn’t forget to leave behind that “accidentally dropped” handkerchief. It was pure white, without any markings, and even the perfume sprayed on it wasn’t her usual scent—nothing to trace it back to her.

Compared to the careless Freya, Lauren was impressively shrewd.