Episode 79
About an hour had passed since the carriage set off. The raindrops had grown heavier and were beating ceaselessly against the window, but Sasha sat in silence, not even glancing that way.
For a long while she stared neither at the carriage wall, nor at the seat across from her, nor at anything at all, only at some vague point in empty air. Only then did Sasha lower her gaze to her lap. Then she removed the white gloves she had been wearing.
The bruises had long since vanished, but a throbbing ache lingered here and there. Sasha turned over in her mind the memory from a few days ago, when she had lifted her cane with all her might and brought it down toward the front. With her left hand, Sasha rubbed her tingling right hand. A soft lump of flesh without the slightest trace of calluses; when she pressed down on it firmly, a faint numbness spread.
As she pressed each joint of her fingers carefully, as though massaging them, Sasha finally cast her gaze toward the window. Then she recalled the conversation she had just had with the Duchess.
The Duchess was far more difficult to deal with than her son. The latter showed every emotion on his face, which made him rather easy to handle. Unlike Jeffrey Grayson, who would rather swing his fists as he pleased and sneer than go to the trouble of lying and acting, she was a master performer. Like any noble of reputation, she was someone who had spent her entire life honing that sort of skill.
After cutting off every bit of contact between Sasha and other men, she said things like, You do not necessarily have to marry my son, while also wondering why on earth Sasha had chosen Isaac. She did not openly reveal any hostility, but there was a faint nuance to her words, as if to say she found it displeasing that Sasha still refused to be obedient to her.
No, was that all? To Sasha, there seemed to be something even more unpleasant beneath it.
Nightmares. The Duchess had asked Sasha, as if in passing, whether she still dreamed of that nightmare. That unfortunate carriage accident in which Sasha Grayson had lost her parents. Did she still dream of it?
And what about the questions about Isaac? There had been a subtler nuance than simply asking, Let me see what kind of fellow you chose instead of my son. It was as though she had been testing Sasha’s reaction.
‘Why?’
A strange question filled Sasha’s mind. Unlike someone whose every thought showed plainly on his face, the fact that her opponent was the Duchess left an even more unpleasant residue behind. It even made Sasha wonder if she herself was being overly sensitive.
With a low groan, Sasha stopped massaging her right hand.
After thinking one last time of the Duchess hunting birds in the sky with a large rifle like a man, Sasha soon shook the thought away.
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After arriving at the ducal territory and speaking for only a little over an hour, Sasha boarded the carriage again and drove on for two straight days before she finally reached Eris Hall. She had never imagined the day would come when the road to Dilton Manor would feel so welcome. The Duchess was an extraordinary person in more ways than one.
As soon as she arrived at Dilton Manor, Sasha was a little surprised to see more servants than usual gathered to greet her. She had been going out often lately, so whenever she returned, only the butler, Jason, or at most a few maids who attended her most closely would come out to see her in.
“Were we expecting guests, Mr. Jason?”
Sasha asked the butler with a puzzled expression as she stepped down from the carriage, and he shook his head.
“No, my lady. Everyone was waiting for you. It was your first long outing since that incident.”
“……Ah, I see.”
Sasha’s reply came a little slowly. Seeing Sasha’s somewhat uneasy reaction, Butler Jason, as if already accustomed to it, guided her toward the entrance.
“While you were away, we handled the visitors who came looking for you as best we could. Especially the reporters. There were a few who claimed to be acquainted with you, my lady, but for now we have simply written down their names separately.”
“Thank you. They’re probably reporters who were acquainted with my grandmother.”
The word “handled” was a little funny. She did not know why it was funny, but it was. Butler Jason was always diligent, but still clumsy in some way, and because of that, Sasha could treat him more comfortably than the other servants.
Before entering the foyer, Sasha turned back toward the servants who had come out to greet her. For a moment, she said nothing, then awkwardly greeted those who had bowed their heads respectfully.
“Thank you, everyone, for coming out to meet me.”
Before they could respond to her greeting, Sasha quickly turned around and went straight up the stairs.
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As soon as Sasha entered her bedroom, she sat down at her desk. There lay the list of visitors Butler Jason had left behind, along with the letters that had arrived for her during her brief absence. Sasha quickly skimmed the list with an expressionless face, then soon turned her gaze to the letters.
One letter from Miss Carol, one letter from Miss Merrilson—surprisingly, since Sasha had thought she had cut off contact—two letters from reporters, one letter from the Butler family, surprisingly enough, and lastly, one letter from Isaac.
After some thought, Sasha read the letter from the Butler family first. The letter, written in refined handwriting, began with a brief apology and cautiously asked whether she might grant forgiveness—strictly speaking, leniency. It had been sent by George Butler’s mother. The contents of the letter were all over the place. It apologized to Sasha, but also went beyond scolding her son’s pathetic behavior and openly disparaged him. Though they were only letters on a page, the forcefully pressed handwriting conveyed not merely anger, but contempt.
She had suspected as much, but it seemed the man named George Butler had not grown up in a particularly healthy family environment. But what of it now?
Sasha pushed Mrs. Butler’s letter aside and picked up the letter Isaac had sent. Feeling lighter than before, she broke the seal on the envelope, took out the stationery, and read it. However, Isaac’s letter was filled with matters that bothered her even more than Mrs. Butler’s.
Sasha took her eyes off the letter and gazed into the distance for a moment. Then she began to read it carefully again. Even after reading it once more, the contents of the letter remained the same. The main point was clear. In order for the two of them to marry, she absolutely had to meet Isaac Pinscher’s father—in other words, Earl Pinscher.
There was no need to ask, Why now? Isaac himself, who had written the letter, seemed the least able to accept the news. The letter, which began with “I am terribly sorry, Miss Grayson,” went on to relay the news and then rambled more incoherently than usual, filled with statements that he himself did not understand why his father was suddenly indulging in such a whim.
Looking at his handwriting, which seemed more unstable than usual, Sasha unconsciously furrowed her brows with worry. Normally, she would have simply clicked her tongue as if mildly annoyed, but without realizing it, she brought her fingers to his handwriting and stroked over it as though soothing him, telling him it was all right.
Sasha immediately took out a fresh sheet of stationery and wrote a brief reply.
I received your letter, Captain Pinscher.
First of all, what I would like to say is that you need not feel so apologetic. When one thinks about it, marriage is a matter between two families, and it would have been strange to muddle through it without properly greeting the head of the family. Rather, I think this visit will allow us to receive His Lordship’s proper permission and make this marriage even more secure, so I am glad of it. I mean that sincerely.
The sooner the visit, the better, yes? There is less than a month left until we are to be married, so I think it would be best to go and pay our respects as quickly as possible.
She then finished by saying she would prepare as soon as his reply arrived.
If it was quick, the reply would probably come within two days. Sasha put the letter into an envelope, sealed it, then called a maid and handed it over, asking her to send it as quickly as possible.
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As expected, the reply arrived quickly. Isaac said that as soon as he received her letter, he had requested leave.
The moment Sasha finished reading that brief letter, she rose from her desk.
“Mr. Jason, we need to pack as quickly as possible. Captain Pinscher will probably arrive tomorrow. As soon as he arrives, we will take a carriage from here and go together to the Pinscher estate.”
“……Ah, yes. Understood. Then how long will you be staying there?”
Sasha could not answer at once and fell briefly into thought.
“Well. It is even farther than the ducal territory, so it will take about three days just to get there, and…… even if we wrap things up as quickly as possible and return…….”
To begin with, “wrapping things up quickly” itself seemed impossible. And even if it was only a marriage in form, she could not rush through the first meeting with the other party’s parent as if getting it over with.
Well, taking her time and putting in the effort would not be bad either. The wedding preparations were nearly finished anyway.
‘……What bothers me, however, is.’
Seeing Sasha’s gaze settle in one place, Butler Jason also turned his head and looked in the same direction. It was the flowerpot by the window. The same flower Lady Rosalyn had kept on her work desk and tended while she was alive.
“Ah, please do not worry about the flowerpot. I will take care of it.”
“What? Ah, I…….”
That was not the problem.
The flowerpot must not wither. Strictly speaking, it must not wither under her care. That had been one of the conditions Lady Rosalyn set forth.
How much was she supposed to receive for keeping that flowerpot from withering for several years? Three hundred ond, was it? Sasha looked down at the flowerpot with dry eyes and calculated.
Compared to the twelve thousand ond she could receive through her marriage to Isaac, it was pocket change. Sasha hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
“Please do that. Grandmother would be pleased.”
“We will also manage the estate’s greenhouse ourselves. The annex as well. And I will take full responsibility for regularly checking on the servants. You may go without worry, my lady.”
If theirs had been an ordinary relationship between employer and servant, Sasha would have gladly replied with thanks at once. Instead of answering immediately, Sasha simply looked quietly at Jason’s face, which was filled with pure goodwill.
Just as she was about to answer, there came a knock, followed by the clear voice of the maid, Roseanne.
“My lady. That lawyer has come to see you.”
“Let’s talk later for now, Mr. Jason.”
Sasha postponed her reply for the moment, then opened the door and headed to the drawing room where Mr. Turner was waiting.