Episode 112
While Isaac was speaking with the soldiers, Sasha had drawn well away from them and was searching for the lawyer with the peculiar temperament. Mr. Turner was a man whose neat appearance matched his stiff, old-fashioned nature, but even so, he was rather well-groomed and on the tall side, making him stand out in more ways than one. If she had looked this much, she ought to have found him by now.
The fastidious lawyer had not shown himself at the wedding, let alone the reception. That was somewhat strange. He was the sort of man who had to confirm everything with his own eyes, and if he could not, demanded a level of exacting certification equivalent to it.
“Miss Grayson. Oh, no, I should call you Mrs. Pinscher now. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
The reception was still underway. People kept speaking to Sasha, as if determined not to let her be alone with her thoughts even for a moment.
“It seems one of the people we sent an invitation to hasn’t come.”
“Oh. Who on earth? Unless something terribly urgent came up!”
Mrs. Dorison, who had stopped Sasha, said with a flourish. Sasha smiled as though grateful for her appropriately exaggerated reaction.
Fortunately, Mrs. Dorison did not keep holding Sasha there. When the band began playing its third piece, her eyes lit up and she quickly looked for her husband. As if she had been waiting for just that, Sasha glanced toward Mr. Dorison, who was standing off to one side with the look of a man catching his breath. Mrs. Dorison gave Sasha a brief thanks, then hurried off, calling, “Benson!” so she could dance with her husband.
Only then was Sasha left alone, and she looked around the hall. Isaac was still dealing with Major Wells, and the rest of the guests were wholly absorbed in the ball. It seemed it would be all right for her to step away for a short while.
After making a quick decision, Sasha immediately left the hall. Jason, the butler who had been directing the servants, asked her as though he had been waiting, “Is there anything you require, madam?”
“I need someone to run an errand.”
Sasha said that the moment she saw Jason, then,
“No, a letter will be enough.”
She soon corrected herself. The marriage had already been proven by the mere fact that this many people had come. There had also been a few reporters outside the chapel in Clumber, so an article about the wedding would be published soon as well. At most, all she needed to mind from here on were documents like future proof of marriage, was it not?
Once that thought occurred to her, she judged that there was no need to send a person in particular; a letter would suffice. Could something have happened to him? She wondered if thinking so made her seem a little cold, but the other party was Mr. Turner.
And Sasha had once sent someone to Mr. Turner to ask something separately before, only to be told not to “send people conspicuously over trivial matters.”
“Not now, but later. As soon as the guests leave, send one person up who can post a letter for me.”
“Understood.”
Leaving Jason, who nodded, behind, Sasha entered the hall again. The center was still moderately crowded with people dancing, and guests were scattered here and there, drinking champagne or eating as they conversed among themselves. Sasha passed them by and stepped onto the path leading to the garden, intending to catch her breath for a moment.
There was a quiet place one would never know unless one had frequented Diltton Manor quite often. And the moment she had just stepped into it, a familiar voice called her to a stop.
As soon as Sasha heard Jeffrey’s voice, she let out a small sigh and slowly turned toward him.
“Congratulations on your marriage, Sasha.”
“Thank you, Jeffrey.”
It had been quite a long time since she had seen him face-to-face like this. The last time they met, she had slapped Jeffrey across the cheek in front of his friends. Then she had struck his other cheek when he shouted, and when he, playing the gentleman in his own way, defensively hunched himself over, she had clawed at him with her nails, used her palms, her fists, her elbows—everything she could use to beat him, she had brought down on him.
And not even a month later, Jeffrey had sent some madman to her in retaliation.
Sasha calmly reviewed her history with Jeffrey.
“It’s a hasty marriage in many ways, isn’t it, Sasha? There are a few others around me who married in such a rush, as if they were being chased, but most of their circumstances weren’t good. They were drowning in debt, or their families had gone completely bankrupt, or they were simply blinded by love and ran out of their houses on their own.”
“……What are you trying to say? I don’t fall into any of those categories, Jeffrey.”
Sasha replied serenely.
“Is that so? Then why are you marrying in such a hurry?”
“It isn’t particularly hurried, Jeffrey. I’ve been planning to get married for a long time.”
Jeffrey, who had been quietly listening to her, raised an eyebrow.
“……Planning, you say.”
“Yes. It has long been my wish to marry early and build a family. As you know, my circumstances are rather particular.”
“…….”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t love him. Of course, our first meeting was the worst, but when I met him and talked with him, he turned out to be a truly good person. As we kept meeting, I became certain, and I thought I should marry him as soon as possible.”
Jeffrey looked at the face of his cousin, who was calmly rattling off the reasons she had married early with an expressionless face. More precisely, at the calm performance of the fake who was pretending to be his cousin.
How could she be so natural? When he thought about it, there had always been something strange about that fake. His original cousin, even considering her age, had not been cunning in the least; she had possessed a naive streak almost to the point of foolishness. But at some point, this thing that had taken the real one’s place had acted detached from everything.
It was different from simply behaving maturely. The stubbornness and tantrums, the obnoxious self-consciousness one would expect at that age—none of the traits that ought to appear in an adolescent child growing through a normal process had ever existed in that thing. It had been one of the reasons Jeffrey had disliked it even when he had not known its true identity. It made him look even more childish.
But now that he thought about it, did it not fit perfectly?
Adults who knew nothing of the circumstances said that she had lost her parents at a young age and grown up early from the shock, but the reason that thing had behaved so abnormally calm and precocious was simply because it was a fake.
Perhaps it had lied about its age too. Perhaps that thing was several years older than the real one. Its appearance resembled her astonishingly, but that had only been when they were children; if the fully grown real one were found and brought to stand beside it, perhaps they would look utterly different.
“‘Him,’ you say.”
Jeffrey repeated Sasha’s words and smiled with a sneer.
Sasha looked up at Jeffrey quietly, not feeling anything particularly strange. Jeffrey had always been like this. He found fault with everything and enjoyed mocking and humiliating anything he could.
“Introduce me to this ‘him’ of yours. We haven’t even had a proper greeting. Actually, you don’t seem to know this, but this is extremely ill-mannered. It’s also very rude to my mother, who cherished you like her own daughter.”
He tried not to let it show, but Jeffrey Grayson had never been good at acting in the first place. To begin with, he had been born with superior blood that meant he did not need to act for others. Without needing to put on an act and bow to others, they bowed to him first.
Ah, truly, he could not help letting it show. Now that he was aware of it, that thing’s ignorance was so blatant that he wondered why he had not noticed it until now.
Sasha stared at the face of her cousin, Jeffrey, who spoke as if lecturing her.
“……Are you speaking to me about ‘rudeness’ right now, Jeffrey?”
She asked with an expressionless face.
Her tone said exactly that: you, of all people, are pointing out rudeness to me?
“Yes. You mustn’t show so plainly that you were raised without parents.”
Jeffrey could no longer hold back his laughter. Seeing that thing, knowing nothing and showing that it was offended, was so funny he could hardly bear it.
Sasha looked at Jeffrey in silence for a moment.
“You are the one being rude to Grandmother. Watch your mouth, Jeffrey.”
Sasha said with a hollow laugh, as though she no longer even wished to deal with him. At that indifferent attitude, the corners of Jeffrey’s mouth, which had been disgustingly raised, dropped back down at once.
Jeffrey stepped in front of Sasha as she was about to turn and leave. As if blocking her way was not enough, he took one step closer and looked down at her overbearingly from right before her nose.
Jeffrey thought of his real cousin, who might have gone missing or might truly have died. Had that child really squeezed herself out through the window Jeffrey had broken for her and run away somewhere? Or had she, as the adults feared, failed to overcome the shock, wasted away, and died?
Either way.
“Jeffrey.”
Jeffrey gazed down at Sasha, who was about to continue speaking with a look of discomfort, and said calmly,
“Enough, Sasha.”
Originally, she was a lowly girl who would never have been able to speak to him. No, not merely speak to him—she was of a vulgar birth that would never have allowed her to so much as see him in her lifetime. Raised without parents in an orphanage between alleys reeking of piss, at best this insignificant thing would have become a maid in some household thanks to that passably pretty face.
And yet this thing dared to keep pretending to be lofty, unaware that he knew all about her circumstances.
“Let me ask you just one thing.”
Strangely enough, he did not feel the revulsion that made him want to strangle her at once. It truly was peculiar. Wasn’t it?
On the contrary, Jeffrey wanted to keep that thing by his side. When that thing, after acting so incomparably noble, was humiliated and abandoned by everyone, he wanted to bring it—this thing with absolutely nothing to its name—beneath his feet and make it kneel. He wanted to make it kiss the toe of his shoe.
How would it react then? Would it fail to overcome its disgust and glare at him, still not knowing its place?
Or would it quickly adapt to its changed circumstances and submit to him?
……Truly.
“The reason you rushed into this marriage.”
Whichever it was, merely thinking about it was exhilarating.
“Could that reason be me?”