Episode 38
At Sasha's polite request, the man raised his eyebrows and introduced himself.
"I'm David Olson. Please feel free to call me David. Jeffrey and I are close friends, so Miss Sasha, you may treat me comfortably as well."
Already calling me by my first name so casually. While Sasha was looking David over with that thought, Damian Merrillson beside her was far too quiet.
Sasha turned to look at Mr. Merrillson belatedly, and he was glancing at David with a face red as if smarting somewhere. Anyone could see he was watching his step.
"By the way, what business do you have with this fellow Damian?"
David asked as if it were only natural.
"I came to see a play with his younger sister, Miss Merrillson. Mr. Merrillson joined us midway."
"Ah, Damian! You really have no tact! To force your way into a gathering of ladies. Hmm?"
No sooner had Sasha finished speaking than David snickered and mocked Damian.
Sasha had welcomed Mr. Merrillson's joining more than anyone, but she was hardly pleased by such a reaction.
"Hmm. What do you mean? I'm not so narrow-minded, Mr. Olson. What's wrong with a gentleman joining a gathering of ladies?"
"Miss Grayson, that's enough."
Far from being pleased by Sasha's defense, Damian Merrillson tried to cut her off with an embarrassed expression instead.
David watched the two of them with interest regardless, but Sasha was slowly beginning to find the man openly annoying.
As expected of Jeffrey's friend, he was displaying truly Jeffrey-like behavior.
"Anyway, it was a pleasant meeting, Mr. Olson. Let's meet formally next time and exchange greetings."
"Hmm. Very well. Do continue your date, you two. Damian, sorry for interrupting."
Even at David's words, which anyone could see were sarcastic and scornful, Damian merely hung his head low.
"Give my regards to your father as well. Hmm? Goodness, I'm not even your father, so why are you watching my mood?"
It was quite a strange conversation, and Sasha was briefly reminded of the conversation between Miss Huphin and Miss Thompson she had heard earlier.
The Merrillson family, said to be a count's house that had become nothing but an empty shell sinking under a mountain of debt.
And Mr. Merrillson, who couldn't even retort while being openly ridiculed.
Was it simply because his family's fortunes had declined? Not at all. Sasha vaguely realized that a power dynamic formed by financial circumstances lay between the two men.
She was already tired. Sasha no longer wanted to get involved in the men's battle of wills.
"Sorry for holding you so long, Miss Sasha."
"Please take care on your way home, Mr. Olson."
Sasha walked past without so much as glancing at David. Mr. Merrillson walked without looking toward David, though for a different reason.
"The weather is truly nice."
Unable to hold back, Sasha offered the words Mr. Merrillson had said to her just moments ago.
Mr. Merrillson's blue eyes shook unsteadily as he glanced at Sasha. As if asking where his confident attitude from earlier had gone, the man cut a miserable figure as he gauged Sasha's mood.
"The carriage has arrived. Allow me to help you in."
The man who had just been going on about the weather, intent on taking her somewhere else, now spoke while openly avoiding Sasha's eyes.
Sasha looked at Mr. Merrillson, who had changed his attitude in an instant, with strange eyes, then nodded.
"Thank you."
The farewell was carried out swiftly. Sasha took Mr. Merrillson's hand and boarded the carriage, and Mr. Merrillson removed his hat and bowed to her with a certain courtesy.
His neatly combed hair and trimmed beard were visible.
As soon as the carriage Sasha was in departed, he sighed and ruffled his neatly arranged hair. At the same time, his lips parted and he muttered something. His expression was grim.
Sasha looked through the window at Mr. Merrillson muttering curses with a coldly hardened face the moment she turned around, then sat back and straightened her posture.
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Her connection with the Merrillson siblings ended there.
As soon as she returned to the estate, the next day Sasha sent the novel A Day of Saint Aknan along with a brief letter to the address where the Merrillson siblings were staying, recalling the conversation she had shared with him.
The reply came only after two days. It was even shorter than the letter Sasha had sent.
It contained only his thanks for sending the book and that it would help him spend his holiday without boredom. It was an insincere letter that even seemed sarcastic in some sense.
It stood in stark contrast to Isaac Pincher's letters, which were equally brief yet had clear intentions.
In any case, after that letter, Mr. Merrillson made no further contact with Sasha.
It was the same for Miss Merrillson. She who had been desperately intent on connecting her brother with the heiress of House Grayson also abruptly cut off the letters she had been sending every few days.
It was an obvious scenario. David Olson was somehow connected to Count Merrillson's debts and was Jeffrey's friend.
That ridiculous gentlemen's club—he was no doubt a member there.
It wasn't hard to foresee.
As Sasha read Mr. Merrillson's final letter, which threw away not just sincerity but even his soul, she recalled Floyd and the other men who had exchanged letters with her in this manner before their contact was abruptly severed.
They had all been excellent marriage candidates who met the conditions put forth by Marchioness Rosalyn, yet they were men who had cut off contact with Sasha due to Jeffrey's or the Duchess's influence in one way or another.
Sasha buried the matter with the Merrillson siblings as it was and devoted herself again only to what she had originally been doing.
Tending to the flower pots so they wouldn't wither, cultivating the garden, attending church service once a week, and watching a play or opera of a certain cultural standard at least once a month.
And again, looking after the estate servants, inspecting the estate facilities.
And…….
Meeting with her lawyer, Mr. Turner, once a month to be evaluated on whether she had performed admirably.
"Have you been well, Miss Grayson?"
It was a reunion after quite some time. Mr. Turner was usually too busy with work to visit the estate, but for this 'homework inspection,' he always made time to come in person.
"Yes. And you, Mr. Turner, have you been well?"
"Do I look like I've been well?"
"No."
At Sasha's unfiltered answer, Mr. Turner smiled a mirthless smile.
In any case, as soon as Mr. Turner entered Dilton Estate, he was guided by the servants to his seat. Then he took out documents from his bag and began to evaluate her duty to carry out her homework carefully, very carefully indeed.
"You are doing well."
"If I keep this up for just three more years, will I be able to receive half of the total amount?"
"Hmm. If you continue just as you are."
Sasha clicked her tongue at his businesslike face.
"That's absurd. I'll die before then."
"You've endured well until now; three years should be a piece of cake."
Mr. Turner muttered in a manner far from cultured. Then, belatedly minding his manners, he made a loud ahem and straightened his posture.
Sasha stared steadily at the lawyer's stoic face regardless.
He was one of the only people in this estate, excluding some of the servants, who knew her true identity.
He was the person who had personally witnessed Marchioness Rosalyn writing that damn will by her side.
"Back then, at least that old lady was alive to keep an eye on me and protect me."
Something caught in her throat at the word 'protect,' but Sasha spoke in a nonchalant manner.
"Now that the old lady is gone, Jeffrey will cause trouble before even three years pass."
"Hmm."
"Can't you listen with a little more sincerity?"
Mr. Turner was busy examining the leaves of a flowerpot regardless.
"They seem slightly more withered than before. Are you often away from your post?"
"I water them on time. I suppose it's because I've been going down to Lancefield regularly these days and haven't been able to look after them well."
"Lancefield? Ah. Do you really intend to marry that Captain?"
Sasha paused briefly.
"Nothing is certain yet. I merely proposed. The man said he would think about it, and……"
"Him? Hmm. He seems quite picky despite his appearance."
"That's not it. Rather than picky, it's just that he seems... unable to trust people easily. In that regard, he resembles the Marchioness."
When Sasha finished speaking, Mr. Turner stared at her silently for a moment. Then, as if nothing had happened, he bowed his head with a composed face.
"So is that why you are focusing solely on that man?"
"The other men won't do. They're connected to Jeffrey in one way or another. This is why I hate high society."
"In that sense, the Captain is indeed a comfortable prospect. The Count, his father, has been away from the capital's social circles for quite some time as well."
Mr. Turner said this, then spoke as if he had suddenly remembered something.
"Come to think of it, I heard that the Captain's grandmother, Marchioness Caroline, is staying nearby."
Sasha raised her eyebrows briefly.
"How on earth do you know such news?"
Mr. Turner answered as if it were no big deal.
"They are my clients."