Episode 65
“More importantly, Miss Grayson, has anyone been bothering you lately?”
“Mm. After the matter with Jeffrey, most of them fell away, thankfully.”
“Is that so? Still, just in case, tell me if there is. I can introduce you to some decent security personnel.”
It had been only two hours since she had parted after having that conversation with Miss Carol.
It was late afternoon. After returning to the mansion, Sasha, for the first time in a while, even dismissed the maid and leisurely enjoyed a bath alone. When she entered her bedroom in a bathrobe, she saw a letter placed on the desk. Naturally assuming it must be from Captain Fincher, that of course it must be from him, she approached—only to frown at the sight of the deep purple envelope.
In other words, it was a letter from Mr. Butler. It was from that steadfastly devoted man who had continued to send her letters and bouquets whether she replied or not.
I am glad to have received your reply, Miss Grayson.
It does not matter at all that your reply was late. You must have been busy. I understand. Did you like the flowers I sent? I remembered that you said, when we spoke briefly, that you liked purple flowers, so I sent you the most beautiful and largest purple flowers I could find. They say the leaves can be dried well and brewed as tea. The fragrance is on the weaker side, so have it with a little honey.
As the days are growing hotter, I thought it might be nice to meet once before it becomes any warmer. I could come to you, or you could come this way, Miss Grayson.
Since you seem busy, I will keep this letter brief. I am sending along a few suitable meeting places and dates. I would be grateful if you would choose whichever is convenient and send me your reply.
May your days be cool and pleasant.
George Butler.
Sasha read the letter in question and was dumbfounded for a moment. The way he spoke as though it were a foregone conclusion that they would meet, almost as if informing her of it, was no different from Miss Carol. Strictly speaking, Mr. Butler had at least given Sasha some degree of authority to choose the place and time.
But the starting line itself is different to begin with.
Unlike Mr. Butler’s letter, which acted as though his relationship with Sasha was already very close, Sasha in fact could not even clearly remember having spoken with him. If he had been an important person in a position worth knowing for various reasons, there was no way she would not have remembered.
Sasha let out a groan at this one-sided letter and pressed a hand to her brow. It was not as if her last reply had contained an excessive sense of intimacy that could be misunderstood.
It had been only two hours since she had heard those meaningful words from Miss Carol. And was that all? Before leaving, Captain Fincher had said something similar to her two or three times.
Fine. First of all, that man, Isaac Fincher, was a soldier. So being constantly on guard even in daily life must have been an occupational disease of his.
If she sent this letter to him right away, his reaction was obvious. Sasha did not want Captain Fincher’s daily life to be disrupted even in the slightest because of her. She did not want to owe him in that way. Yes. She did not want to owe him.
I can handle this much on my own. After resolving herself so, Sasha immediately sat at her desk and wrote a reply.
I received your letter well. Thank you for your concern, Mr. Butler.
However, as you said, I am busy, so I believe I should first tell you that it will be difficult for me to make time separately. Since you approached me first, I would like to respond in kind, but I would be grateful if you could understand that my circumstances do not allow it.
As the weather grows hotter, I hear evening parties will soon be held here and there. I think perhaps we may happen to meet at one of those someday. Or we may even meet somewhere unexpected, such as a book club. Do you like books? If so, I think I would be even happier.
If this reply feels rude to you, I am truly sorry. However, I am currently in such a state of having no leisure that I can hardly look after even those around me, so I am in an even more cautious position.
I do not think you need to send me any more flowers. The servants are complaining that there is nowhere to put them. However, as you said, I will dry and keep the flowers you have already sent. Their fragrance is truly lovely. Thank you.
Thinking you might be interested, I am sending along several books that I enjoyed reading. If we meet again someday, I think it would be nice to talk about these books together. I am not forcing my tastes on you. They are merely a return gift for the flowers, so I hope you will accept them without feeling burdened.
Before this grows any longer, I think I should end it here. As you said, the days are growing hotter and hotter, and even in the evening I find myself sweating, making it difficult to keep holding the pen.
I hope you, too, have a cool summer, Mr. Butler. Looking forward to the day we may meet someday.
Sasha Grayson.
Worried that it might seem as though she was cutting him off too coldly, Sasha reviewed the completed letter several times. However, to someone who had essentially said, We’re going to meet, so choose a convenient time and place, she thought she would have to say at least this much for him to understand.
Thinking so to herself, Sasha placed the completed reply in an envelope and sealed it. Then she called a maid, told her to post the letter as soon as it was morning the next day, and handed it over.
“About that bouquet.”
“Pardon? That huge bouquet? It’s already been moved into pots, miss.”
The maid spoke to her as though telling her not to worry. Sasha raised her eyebrows.
To begin with, the bouquet had been nothing but the largest blossoms gathered indiscriminately and tied together without any sense of aesthetics. Even if they had been transplanted into pots, they would still be unsightly. And the thought of seeing such a thing again made her uneasy. She wanted to get rid of it.
“No. I’m sorry to trouble you, but tell them to pull them all out and throw them away.”
The maid’s eyes widened at Sasha’s firm order, but soon she obediently nodded and said, “Yes. I will.” Once the maid left the room with the letter, Sasha finally felt the tension leave her entire body and collapsed onto the bed as though falling.
When she turned off the lamp, the room sank into complete darkness. The darkness that normally would have felt as comfortable as clothes that fit her perfectly felt strangely chilly.
Sasha recalled Miss Carol’s firm yet warm embrace as she had advised her several times at the end, and Captain Fincher’s clumsy concern as he promised, with his characteristic wary expression, to teach her shooting in case of emergency.
After that, she felt a little better. Much more at ease, she soon grew sleepy.
＊＊＊
Several days passed after that. No reply came from Mr. George Butler, the man in question.
Fortunately.
When Sasha ordered all of the purple flowers in question to be thrown away, the servants of the mansion pulled the flowers out of the pots and disposed of them as though they had been waiting for the order. The head maid, Allison, looked especially relieved. Sasha once more instructed the butler, Jason, that if anything like that came again, it was to be disposed of immediately.
And so it was Sunday morning. As always, Sasha changed clothes and headed to the cathedral in the old town. The reason she insisted on this cathedral, so far from the mansion, every time was simple. Because Lady Rosalyn had specifically written in her will that it had to be this cathedral.
She thought her a revolting person in many ways. Even in death, it was clear Rosalyn wanted Sasha to live her whole life as the doll she had created and die that way. And it was clear that she wanted the absurd lie she had committed never to be exposed.
“Miss.”
Still seated on the pew in the posture of prayer, Sasha turned to look beside her. The maid holding Sasha’s outer garment spoke cautiously.
“Mass ended some time ago, miss.”
“Ah, yes. I see.”
Sasha nodded calmly, then left the cathedral with the maid. Father Giorgio, his hair gone gray, met Sasha’s eyes as she was leaving and subtly greeted her with a look.
“Goodness, really. I clearly told him to wait in time for when it ended. Where has he gone in the meantime?”
As soon as they came out of the cathedral, the maid realized the carriage was gone and grumbled as though she were the one more offended. The sultry summer wind gently tickled the back of Sasha’s neck and warmed it at the same time.
“It’s all right. Let’s wait here.”
“No, miss. He must be nearby. Just a moment!”
Saying this had happened several times before and that she knew exactly where he would be, the maid gnashed her teeth and walked off in that direction. As she hurried away, she did not forget to turn back and say, “I’ll be right back!”
Sasha watched her with an expressionless face and thought.
Come to think of it, what was that child’s name again?
“…….”
People were still trickling out of the cathedral and passing by her. She had only just realized anew that she was alone when, becoming aware that she was still inside the cathedral grounds, she felt a little relieved.
However, perhaps because she had exchanged those unsettling letters, she could not help the way her nerves kept growing taut.
Sasha began to walk toward the fountain in front of the cathedral. Since the weather was hot, she thought it might be somewhat better to be near water. But after taking a few steps, Sasha stopped and turned her head, sharply checking behind her.
As if her looking back had been for nothing, there were only ordinary people walking along the street, so she felt both relieved and a little embarrassed as she turned forward again. But no sooner had she taken one step than someone spoke to her from behind.
“Miss Grayson.”
And as if that were not enough, he overtook her and even blocked her path.