Chapter 62
As he had said, Isaac returned to Lance Field two days later.
The servants of Dilton Manor watched Sasha see Isaac off with rather meaningful feelings. The two did not look, at a glance, as though affection were dripping from them the way it did with couples deep in love. And yet they were strangely intimate.
So said the servants who had waited on them from close by, serving their meals and the like. Even if they were not lovers, they seemed quite close, like friends. In fact, that was not all; rather specific stories circulated along with it. That the man had been listening to the woman with frightening attention, or that from time to time, whenever the woman said something, the man’s ears would turn red and he would avoid her gaze.
Naturally, their master’s well-being was their well-being. The servants of Dilton Manor earnestly hoped their young mistress would meet a sensible partner and live happily.
The best thing would be for her to marry someone of suitably lower standing who loved her passionately. Judging by those conditions, that terrifying-looking man was not such a bad option.
“I don’t think he’s bad. Maybe because he’s a soldier, but he just did everything by himself. Even when there was a servant right beside him.”
“Isn’t that a problem in its own way? It means we’ll have nothing to do.”
The maids, standing at a distance and watching the soldier’s carriage grow farther away, whispered among themselves. They soon fell silent under the sharp look of Mrs. Allison, the housekeeper.
“Everything has been a mess since Madam passed away. We can’t very well hire new people now, either.”
As Mrs. Allison muttered, still glaring fiercely in that direction, Jason the butler, who stood beside her, said,
“It will be temporary in any case, Mrs. Allison. If the mistress marries that gentleman, this unrest will soon settle down.”
“……That would have been out of the question as well, had Madam still been alive. Mr. Jason. A soldier, of all things. It’s absurd. He is completely incompatible with the Grayson family.”
“Mrs. Allison.”
Mrs. Allison closed her mouth as though reluctantly, then opened it again.
“More importantly, I haven’t seen that man Theo lately.”
“Theo?”
“Theodore. That taciturn man Madam kept specially at her side.”
“……Ah, yes. Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen him at all. Come to think of it, even though Madam has passed away, is he going to continue working here?”
“Of course. He’s the same as us.”
Jason scratched his nose at Mrs. Allison’s prim reply.
“Well, I’m sure he’s taking care of himself. Mr. Theo usually went outside on Madam’s errands, after all……”
Jason thought of Theo, that old man who had never exchanged words with the servants and had kept them all at arm’s length. Theo, following that young mistress as they did? Well. Jason could hardly picture it.
“In any case, if you won’t do it, I’ll have to scold the younger ones myself. Jason. If Madam were here, she would have done it herself, but our new mistress pays us no mind at all.”
“Pays us no mind? Is there anyone who looks after the servants as attentively as she does, Mrs. Allison? What master asks their servants regularly whether anything is troubling them?”
“That is exactly the problem, Jason. I find that mechanical sort of care, as though she is doing it unwillingly, terribly strange.”
As soon as Mrs. Allison finished speaking, Jason hurriedly looked around. Fortunately, their young mistress had gone upstairs to her bedroom with the maids.
Jason let out a low sigh and said to Mrs. Allison,
“It seems you, too, have let discipline slip, Mrs. Allison.”
At Jason’s perfectly reasonable point, Mrs. Allison flushed, mumbled something under her breath, and turned away.
“Enough. I should go sort out those damned flowerpots. That man has probably sent flowers again.”
“……Do you mean the person who sent that bouquet last time?”
“Yes. That ridiculously huge bouquet! His taste is truly awful. I suppose that soldier would be better than a half-wit like him.”
Since she had already started, Mrs. Allison spat out the rest of her grumbling and walked away.
Jason stood there for a moment, looking dazed. It had been a full two years since he had inherited the position from his father, but mediating between people still felt overwhelming.
Jason turned over in his mind what Mrs. Allison had said about Sasha at the end. No matter how she felt, speaking so easily of their mistress was something that would have to be addressed. Sasha was now the new mistress they had to serve in place of the late lady of the house. It would not do to treat her as they had before, like Madam’s precious granddaughter.
Yes. The new mistress.
“Mr. Jason.”
Just then, a maid who had come down from the direction of Sasha’s bedroom called him.
“The young lady’s schedule for tomorrow.”
“Not the young lady. The mistress, Roseanne.”
At the butler Jason’s correction, the young maid Roseanne answered, “Yees,” and continued.
“The young la— the mistress is belatedly reading her letters. The letters that piled up over the past few days. Anyway, the point is that she only just confirmed an appointment with someone named Miss Carol tomorrow afternoon. She says she will take the carriage around noon tomorrow.”
Jason nodded at Roseanne’s words.
“Tell her I understand.”
＊＊＊
Around noon the next day, Sasha leisurely left the mansion and climbed into the carriage. Her destination was a café in the capital’s new district. She had heard that young women especially sensitive to trends often gathered there. Naturally, Miss Carol had chosen the meeting place herself. She had chosen it, then notified Sasha by letter not with, How does that day sound? but with, Let’s meet that day.
Miss Carol was a somewhat peculiar woman. Raised in luxury as the cherished only daughter of a bank president, she had given up on marriage early after her engagement was broken. According to her, if she married, she would not live out her natural lifespan. Since the fortune she had received from her parents was immense, she managed her assets this way and that and invested in various businesses. Miss Carol was intelligent, and when it came to money in particular, her mind worked even better.
When she was around forty, Miss Carol slowly began to find life dull. Starting with people she had come to know through business, she gradually widened her circle. She said a life spent stuck at home was far too tedious. And so, whether it was a weekday or a weekend, she was always out meeting people.
Naturally, Sasha’s connection with Miss Carol had been inherited from Lady Rosalyn.
Even when the old lady had fallen ill and taken to bed, Miss Carol visited every time and told her not only the week’s most sensational news, but all sorts of tidings from outside. In truth, the old lady had not liked Miss Carol very much. How did Sasha know? It was obvious just from watching at her side.
“If Miss Dice fell into water, only her mouth would float. It is not a bad thing to stay close to at least one person with that sort of energy. Sasha, you should continue to be on good terms with Miss Dice as well. It is true in any circle, but in this one especially, there is nothing bad about being close to someone who is quick with information.”
And she had added this as well.
“Just don’t tell her about yourself.”
In any case, Lady Rosalyn used Miss Carol in that manner. Around the time her illness made it difficult for her to move about and she had to remain lying in bed, she grew even closer to Miss Carol. Every time Miss Carol visited, she would spread out all manner of rumors and gossip that could not be learned even from the newspapers, as though unpacking a bundle of stories.
Yes. Come to think of it, she seemed to have heard the name Fincher among the stories Miss Carol had told.
“The eldest son of the Count Fincher family, I mean. They say he died instantly in a carriage accident. Such a pity. That family has two sons, but he was treated practically like an only child! There is also a rumor that the second son is a half-wit, but to my mind, it seems the opposite. I heard he was a man with such a frightening look about him that merely meeting his eyes would make your knees buckle. That second son, I mean.”
By the time Sasha was rummaging through that memory, the carriage had already come to a stop at its destination.
Sasha belatedly came to her senses and quickly got out of the carriage. The coachman said he would wait nearby. After telling the coachman in advance when she would return and instructing him to be there then, Sasha went up to the café on the second floor.
“Welcome, Sasha! How long has it been?”
Miss Carol greeted Sasha with the same easygoing air as when Sasha had last seen her. Sasha smiled back at her greeting and slowly looked over the table.
Carol was not alone.
“Ah, these are my friends. I called them because I wanted to introduce them to you, Sasha. Sit down. Sit.”
Miss Carol took Sasha’s hand and pulled her along.