Chapter 29

The sweltering heat was unbearable, and the morning wind carried the fermented scent of soil, making one drowsy. Even in such weather, the baron rose early as usual to ride. Seeing his figure, I breathed a slight sigh of relief.

The viscount’s family showed no intention of leaving, holed up in the castle all day, fearing the harsh sun would damage their prized pale skin. Nobles prized extreme fairness, so ladies always carried parasols outdoors, while men wore wide-brimmed hats, taking sun protection to the extreme.

Today, the viscountess had specially summoned a tailor from the capital to make new dresses for her two daughters. “Every fabric, in the latest styles,” the viscountess said with a smile. “Charge it all to the baron—he said he’d gift his sisters a few outfits.”

Unlike her husband, the viscountess was smooth in handling affairs, gracefully accepting gifts even in awkward situations. Freya was displeased, muttering under her breath, “A few dresses to buy us off?”

The viscountess shot her a sharp, knife-like glare. Fortunately, the clever Lauren broke the tension with a soft remark: “The baron is busy with official duties and can’t accompany us, which may seem neglectful. But we should be grateful for his generosity.”

Freya snorted and unceremoniously had the servants drape fabrics over herself, enjoying the baron’s gifts as if they were her due.

“Toker, you look unwell—are you sick?” Lauren suddenly turned her gaze to me.

“No, miss, I just didn’t sleep well last night,” I quickly replied.

“The weather is hot, and many people have caught heatstroke. You should be careful. If you feel unwell, be sure to tell me.” Her tone was gentle, clearly portraying her as a kind mistress who cared for her servants.

I responded gratefully: “Thank you for your concern, I will be careful.”

Lauren revealed a sweet smile: “I have a few books here that can help you learn to read. If there’s anything you don’t understand, feel free to ask me.”

I was overwhelmed by the favor and bowed slightly: “I am truly grateful beyond words.”

“Helping you makes me happy too,” Lauren said softly.

In these past few days, my relationship with Lauren grew increasingly close. We often “ran into each other” in the garden, chatting happily. Even in public, she would greet me with concern. From trivial daily matters to affairs of state, Lauren could always speak eloquently, making one feel as if bathed in a warm spring breeze.

Just as I was immersed in this joy, familiar footsteps echoed from the corridor, and my nerves instantly tensed. As the footsteps drew nearer, my body stiffened further, and the scenes from last night flashed vividly in my mind, almost making me turn and flee.

The baron returned on horseback, and the viscountess greeted him warmly: “Austin, come and see, this is the latest style from France, said to be all the rage in the capital.”

It was a dark-colored men’s formal suit, abandoning the traditional front panel, with a simple design, a split back hem, and paired with a round black top hat. Though it retained the boat-shaped hat style, the edges and curves were more understated. This was the latest trend—men no longer pursued extravagance but favored simple and elegant attire, with many also abandoning wigs.

As the nearest footman, I had no choice but to step forward and hold up the suit for the baron to inspect.

Even now, I dared not meet his eyes, my movements stiff as a wind-up doll.

“Very handsome,” the baron said in a low voice, pausing before adding, “Aunt and my sisters may pick whatever they like.”

“Oh, thank you, Austin.” The viscountess turned to her two daughters: “Come and thank your brother.”

Lauren and Freya quickly curtsied to the baron, their postures obedient and humble.

I pretended to calmly arrange the clothes, but my mind was entirely focused on the baron, my heart pounding violently as if about to burst from my chest. The unresolved matter from yesterday still weighed on me, and my emotions remained unsettled.

Finally, I mustered the courage to glance at the baron. At that very moment, he also looked toward me. Our eyes met, and my face instantly burned like boiling water, my entire body freezing in place. After just a few seconds, the baron averted his gaze and walked toward the stairs, instructing: “Have Kahn come take my measurements.”

He didn’t call the constable, didn’t dismiss me, nor did he inform the viscount of my actions. I stared nervously at his retreating figure, itching to rush after him and demand to know what judgment he had passed on me.

By noon, the weather grew even hotter, making even the castle stifling. Sunlight poured through the glass windows, turning the interior into a steamer. As footmen, we still had to wear wigs and coats. Though the gentlemen’s attire was relatively simple, servants’ outfits became increasingly exaggerated, with some households dressing their servants like bizarrely styled clowns.

Fortunately, the baron had no such eccentric tastes, but the steward still demanded we dress immaculately. Thus, in this scorching heat, we wore heavy coats, wigs, and gloves, enduring even as sweat drenched our backs.

Having tossed and turned sleeplessly the night before and now stifled in the hall during the day, my vision soon began to blur. By lunchtime, I could barely hold on and was about to ask the steward for leave to rest when the baron descended the stairs. With just one glance at me, he strode over, his tone laced with urgency.

“What’s wrong with you? Is it… me…” he asked with concern.

I shook my head, staggered a bit, and the baron quickly steadied me, shouting, “Fetch the doctor, take him upstairs.” I was too embarrassed to admit I’d fainted from the heat, feeling such weakness was unseemly for a man.

“I’m fine, no need for a doctor.” I removed the heavy wig and tugged at my collar, saying, “I’m just too hot.” The baron noticed too, as my collar was already soaked.

He fell silent for a moment, seeming exasperated. I lowered my head, ashamed of my weakness—after all, no one else had fainted from the heat, and we hadn’t even done any heavy labor.

“Are you really alright?” the baron asked again. “If you’re unwell, I can take you to the doctor.” This left me and the other servants stunned. The baron personally escorting a sick servant? This was unexpected.

Realizing his words were improper, the baron hesitated before adding, “I’m heading to the capital this afternoon. Perhaps I can take you along.” I shook my head and replied, “Thank you for your concern, my lord. I’m fine, just overheated.”

“Very well.” The baron nodded, then instructed Hodgson, “In this heat, when there are no guests, don’t be too strict about attire.” The baron had always cared for the servants’ health, so such an order wasn’t surprising.

Then, Kahn asked curiously, “My lord, you have an appointment with the merchants this afternoon. Should it be canceled?” The baron paused before replying, “Yes, cancel it. Reschedule for tomorrow.”

Thus, the baron set off for the capital in the sweltering summer heat, riding in a stifling carriage. When he returned, his face showed displeasure.

Seeing me waiting at the gate, our eyes met again. His steps faltered briefly before he strode straight into the castle hall.

I figured he wouldn’t send me away now—it seemed my goal had been achieved.

The summer night was stifling. Miles Manor hosted neither banquets nor dances, and the masters retired early. The servants, however, remained busy in the servants’ quarters: maids embroidered, footmen polished their masters’ shoes and cleaned stains from hems. I read by lamplight as Rhodes tried to strike up a conversation, but I brushed him off.

The viscount’s servants had all been dismissed, and Rhodes was soon let go too—though he quickly found work at Miles Manor. The reason was obvious. I didn’t blame him for betraying me, but I had no intention of keeping company with him.

Just then, the bell on the wall rang—from the baron’s bedroom. Servants had no private lives; out of 24 hours, they were on call for 16, spending nearly every waking moment attending to their masters. Few married, and maids weren’t even allowed to, as marriage meant time spent on family and potentially bringing strange men into the manor—a security risk. Yet Austin was an enlightened master; in his household, married servants could occasionally take leave. It seemed Kahn had gone home tonight.

It was almost 9 p.m., and I’d assumed the baron had retired. Meeting him so late made my heart leap into my throat. After hesitating under Hodgson’s impatient glare, I hurried to the baron’s bedroom.

The baron sat fully dressed on the sofa, an empty wineglass beside him. When he saw me, he seemed nervous too, awkwardly shifting his crossed legs and clenching the hand resting on the couch.

After what happened between us last night—though neither had spoken a word about it—I thought he’d be too embarrassed to see me. Yet here he was, summoning me directly to his bedroom.