Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Inside the castle, revelry was in full swing.

After speaking with Philip and his wife, Louisa realized many people around her had vanished.

Miss Norman and Heinrich had been absent since the beginning of the event, and now Edmund was nowhere to be found.

Louisa, feigning drunkenness, went to the sitting room to look for someone. Just as she reached the staircase landing, she overheard voices.

"Everything today proves that this woman is unusual. To avoid any mishaps, ensure she disappears before the wedding."

"Understood." The voice belonged to Edmund.

Louisa’s gaze faltered, and the click of her heels on the floor startled the speakers.

By the time she reached the top of the stairs, she only caught a glimpse of a pale, slender hand bearing a crescent-shaped red mark passing a porcelain bottle to Edmund before skirts swished away.

Clearly, it was a woman.

"Louisa?" Edmund turned sharply, casually closing his hand.

Louisa glanced over. "That woman again?"

Edmund averted his eyes. "Yes."

"Are you hiding it from me too, Edmund?" Louisa stared at him.

Edmund frowned, stepped forward, and embraced Louisa, kissing the top of her head. "No, darling. I know you despise these matters, so..."

"Yes, I despise resolving conflicts with such direct methods, which is why I disagreed with your actions last time." Louisa pushed him away, her tone serious. "More importantly, collaborating with her is like making a deal with the devil. I’m afraid that in the end, you’ll become her stepping stone."

Edmund lowered his eyes. "Don’t worry, Louisa. I know what I’m doing."

"No! You don’t!" She paused, caressed Edmund’s face, and sighed. "Ed, have you forgotten the promises you made when you proposed? Let past sins scatter with the wind. Stop fighting Heinrich. Let’s live a good life from now on."

Edmund’s face darkened abruptly, and he sharply pushed Louisa’s hand away.

"Enough! Unless Heinrich kneels at my feet begging for mercy! Otherwise... I’ll never escape that day for the rest of my life!"

Louisa was stunned by the rage in his eyes.

Edmund took several deep breaths to suppress his emotions, then took Louisa’s hand and kissed it again. "I’m sorry, darling. I shouldn’t have lost my temper with you. I know you’ve helped me so much along the way. You don’t need to involve yourself in what comes next. Once I’ve taken my revenge, we’ll live a good life..."

Louisa was pulled into his embrace, listening to his murmured assurances, but the light in her eyes was gone.

Somehow, the once humorous and handsome man had gradually been consumed by hatred, twisted beyond recognition, neither man nor ghost. Even she could no longer pull him out of that quagmire, only watching as he sank deeper and deeper.

Louisa closed her eyes, tears silently slipping into his collar without a sound.

The Spencer family’s social engagements in Mörenvik finally came to an end.

On the day they returned to the Charlves estate, Old Mrs. Violet instructed the butler, Andrew, to prepare a lavish dinner.

"Oh, I expected as much—Philip’s household doesn’t have many good chefs. Eat up, children. Cook Pat swore to show off her skills, afraid you’d forget the comforts of Charlves after being away for so long." Violet raised an eyebrow and lifted her wine glass.

Isabel smiled and raised her glass. "To Cook Pat."

Louisa and Edmund: "To Charlves."

All eyes turned to Heinrich, who remained motionless.

Violet: "Heinrich?"

Under the table, Isabel reached out with her left hand and pinched him hard.

Heinrich, who had been eating, abruptly straightened up, his cutlery clattering.

"..."

Heinrich glared at Isabel, who met his gaze unflinchingly, even smiling back at him.

"Mrs. Violet is speaking to you."

Heinrich took a deep breath, rolled his eyes, and casually raised his glass. "To Grandmother."

Violet took a satisfied sip of red wine.

As dinner conversation drew to a close, the elder Mrs. Violet casually asked, "How was Philip’s wedding?"

Silence fell.

Violet had always despised the illegitimate daughter Sophia. The question seemed directed at Philip, but her true intentions lay elsewhere.

Isabel, of course, had no intention of being the first to speak.

Heinrich detested small talk and couldn’t be bothered to respond.

That left Edmund and Louisa.

Edmund had intended to humor the old lady and make some critical remarks about the Brunswick family. To his surprise, Louisa spoke first: "It was magnificent. Her Majesty attended, the archbishop officiated, and the bride and groom were well-matched."

Edmund frowned, staring at his wife in confusion.

Isabel silently observed the couple.

Violet was visibly displeased. She snorted, "Oh, what a grand affair. Let’s hope the jewels on the bride weren’t too tacky, especially the tiara. I’ve heard the Brunswick family didn’t inherit anything of note."

"Grandmother, the tiara Becky wore that day was newly commissioned and quite valuable." Louisa continued eating, seemingly unconcerned with the old lady’s feelings or her husband’s warning glances. "Aunt Sophia put a great deal of effort into this wedding."

"Newly made?" Violet laughed as if she’d heard a joke, rolling her eyes. "I’m afraid the guests must have been laughing their heads off. Any respectable noble family has notable heirlooms passed down through generations. For a grand wedding like this, a proper duchess wearing a new tiara? Ha!"

She sighed after laughing, raising an eyebrow. "Well, I can’t blame Sophia. Landing a minor earl from the old Brunswick line was the best she could manage."

According to custom, Louisa would have taken the opportunity to chime in with some criticism of Sophia.

Instead, she smiled and said, "Grandmother, contrary to your expectations, many noblewomen were asking Aunt Sophia about that new tiara. Nowadays, if you can wear something new, why bother with the old?"

Violet’s face darkened.

Louisa acted as if she hadn’t noticed and turned to Isabel. "Don’t you agree, soon-to-be bride?"

Isabel nodded smoothly. "Whether new or old, as long as it carries the blessings of family, it’s fine."

Louisa paid no attention to her response, simply stood up, curtsied to Violet, and took her leave.

Edmund, a moment later, hurried after her.

Violet stared at the retreating figures, then let out an incredulous "Hah!" after a long pause. She instructed Eleanor, "Remember to call the family doctor tomorrow to check on Louisa. Perhaps she suffered a head injury during the trip to Mörenvik!"

Eleanor: "..."

She subtly glanced at Isabel, relieved that the old lady was still unaware of the scene the other granddaughter-in-law had made in the capital.

An awkward silence fell over the table. Isabel pretended not to hear anything, while Heinrich continued eating calmly.

Violet turned to Isabel, raising her chin. "Audrey, out with it. Don’t tell me you expect new jewelry for your wedding too?"

Isabel’s eyes shifted subtly as she prepared to answer, but Heinrich interrupted, "Have what you’ve prepared sent to her room. She’ll decide after seeing it."

Violet snorted. "That’s the set I wore at my wedding! The Dresden emeralds on it are the finest in all of Ceylon!"

Without looking up, Heinrich replied, "But I’m not marrying you. Your taste doesn’t dictate mine, Grandmother."

"Oh! You impudent boy! At least you haven’t forgotten I’m your grandmother!" Violet grumbled but still turned and instructed, "Eleanor, remember to show the future Duchess the jewelry once it arrives."

She emphasized the words "Duchess."

Eleanor nodded. "Yes, Madam."

Violet looked displeased at the two young people. "Let’s hope your sense of aristocratic refinement hasn’t entirely deserted you."

With that, she stood and left the table.

Isabel and Heinrich rose simultaneously to see her off.

Once the old lady was gone, Heinrich glanced at Isabel. "Aren’t you leaving? The main event is over."

"No hurry, Partner," Isabel raised an eyebrow. "I heard that when Louisa got married, Mrs. Violet handled everything too. Since it concerns the Spencer family’s reputation, I doubt I’ll be shortchanged. Why bother contradicting her and making her unhappy?"

"Since when are you such a dutiful daughter-in-law?" Heinrich rolled his eyes. "Stop pretending. You know better than anyone that if you grin and bear it, you’ll only face more—just like Louisa."

Isabel smiled, unsurprised.

Louisa had always presented herself as meek—advantageous for winning most people’s favor, but disadvantageous when it came to standing up to their authoritative grandmother.

The servants obeyed her, but she always had a higher authority looming over her, one reason she never truly controlled the estate.

Once you put on a mask, it’s hard to take it off.

Human nature is like that: a villain’s occasional kindness earns gratitude, while a good person’s rare sternness is treated as a grave offense.

Isabel had already foreseen that to take charge of the estate, she must become the decisive authority.

Though Violet claimed she was willing to step back, her forceful nature wouldn’t change overnight. It would require gradual, subtle efforts.

Louisa’s path of being a pushover was unworkable, but that didn’t mean Isabel was determined to be a villain.

Between good and evil lies the shrewd.

People’s perceptions are shaped through minor confrontations. What seems like a simple choice about wedding jewelry often leads to a slippery slope of concessions. The value of the jewelry matters less than who makes the choice.

If Heinrich hadn’t spoken up, Isabel would have politely declined the old lady’s wishes.

But with her fiancé willingly playing the bad guy, Isabel was more than happy to take it easy.

After all, dealing with the old lady wasn’t worth expending too much energy.

"Partner, you’re quite conscientious—already learning to lighten my load," Isabel acknowledged frankly. "Thank you."

Heinrich snorted disdainfully at her praise, "Don't thank me too soon. It's only because this wedding is mine too. Beyond that, don't expect me to get too involved in other matters."

"Not a thing?"

"Of course, anything." Heinrich's tone was icy.

"Alright." Isabel seemed utterly indifferent, nodding casually before she gazed thoughtfully in the direction Louisa had left. "Did you notice earlier? The loving couple's alliance seems to have a crack."

"?"

The topic change caught them off guard.

Expecting a debate, Heinrich frowned and stared at her strangely.

He was tall; even when leaning down, he could look down at her.

On the wall, the shadow from the crystal candelabra showed the slender woman completely enveloped by the tall man's shadow.

Isabel didn't shy away. "Why are you staring at me?"

Her ice-blue eyes fixed on him, so close he could smell the rosewater on her mingled with the fragrance of the wine she had just drunk—intoxicating but not overwhelming.

"Nothing." Heinrich was the first to straighten up, turning his head away with a scoff. "Ladies always have high expectations for weddings and invest great importance in them. I thought you'd be more concerned about your own wedding, but instead, you're so invested in other people's affairs."

"Is a wedding ceremony really that important?" Isabel raised an eyebrow, pausing briefly. "Or do you need me to play my part more convincingly?"

Heinrich snorted, walking away with his long legs. "No need. This is fine. Although we're partners, I still hope to maintain some distance."

"What a coincidence, I think so too."

Watching his retreating figure, Isabel shrugged and headed upstairs.

Days later, Isabel finally had time to read the letter from Kent.

Just as she reached the part where Audrey wrote about wanting to hire a wedding portrait artist and invited her to wear a sapphire tiara together, there was a knock on the door.

The maids Edith and Emily pushed in a clothing rack together.

"Miss, these are the clothes Mrs. Violet had delivered. The main wedding gown isn't ready yet, but the evening and day dresses are here."

"Mm, thank you, Edith. Just leave them there; I'll try them on later."

"Yes... Achoo! Achoo!" Edith suddenly sneezed several times in a row, bowing apologetically as she excused herself. "Sorry..."

Emily stayed behind to arrange the dresses. Admiring the delicate lace trim on the dresses, she exclaimed, "Miss, the craftsmanship on this purple satin evening gown is beautiful! You'll look stunning in it! Achoo! Achoo!"

She sneezed a few times as well, sheepishly rubbing her nose. "It's just that the scent is a bit pungent. It'll air out in a day or two."

Isabel paid no mind, focused on Audrey's letter. Suddenly, she read about hiring a painter and making a sapphire tiara.

She lowered her eyes with a light laugh, thinking to herself, "Better to arrive at the right time than too early."

Heinrich had just helped her avoid Mrs. Violet's insistence on using the old tiara. Though Violet gave in and allowed her to choose, it might just be a way to give her grandson an out, not necessarily a genuine change of heart.

In truth, using an heirloom tiara for the wedding was hardly inappropriate. For nobles, jewelry with heritage significance often highlights tradition and depth. If it were up to personal preference, Isabel wouldn't mind at all.

However, she could tell that the choice of wedding jewelry likely contained Mrs. Violet's test of her.

If she couldn't even make decisions about her own wedding, how could she hope to manage the estate?

Heinrich could only buy time temporarily, not forever.

At this very moment, the letter from Kent happened to provide Isabel with the perfect excuse to decline the wedding plans.

Audrey wished to wear the same jewelry as her sister for the wedding, hoping to have it captured by a portrait artist as a keepsake. For the two sisters, separated by distance and uncertain when they might reunite, this held great significance.

Seizing this opportunity, Isabel could not only fulfill her sister’s wish but also subtly convey her own assertiveness to Lady Violet, refusing in a tactful and measured manner.

As she pondered this, Isabel’s fingers continued to unconsciously stroke the paper without pause.

In truth, overturning the old plan was not difficult; the challenge lay in implementing the new one.

Lady Violet was no pushover.

If her future granddaughter-in-law rejected her arrangements, could she really expect the old lady to obediently comply and help commission a new tiara? That would only happen if hell froze over in Charlves.

Upon closer reflection, it seemed Lady Violet might actually want to see this very scenario play out.

Isabel currently had no authority to manage household affairs—she could hardly even command a few additional servants. Moreover, having just arrived in Hampshire, she was a stranger to the county, and the process of customizing wedding jewelry was cumbersome. How could she possibly manage it in time?

Violet had anticipated this, which is why she remained unruffled even in the face of Heinrich’s objections.

She applied the same tactics she had used on Louisa to Isabel, expressing her message subtly but meaning clearly: either the younger generation obediently followed her lead and played their roles as subordinates, or they solved their own problems. If they succeeded, she might not necessarily think more highly of them, but if they failed, they would still have to fall back in line.

Having deciphered the old lady’s intentions, Isabel allowed a faint smile to touch her lips.

She was not one to follow orders blindly.

She had her own money; what she lacked was connections and influence within the top aristocratic circles. But with the title of future Duchess, she could spare no expense and expedite the process without much difficulty.

However... Isabel disliked solving problems through heavy-handed methods.

For such a trivial matter, going to great lengths would only make her seem... painstakingly dutiful.

If a single match could ignite a raging fire, why bother chopping down an entire forest? That would only leave one exhausted and disheveled, giving the serenely observant Lady Violet a reason to mock her.

With this in mind, Isabel’s eyes flickered as she glanced at the book on the table, *The Charlves Book of Gossip*.

Why not leave the strenuous tasks to those with energy to spare?

Her bickering partner, full of vigor and fighting spirit, would be the perfect candidate for the job. She preferred a balanced approach—work and rest in moderation.

Emily, who had been reading over Isabel's shoulder at Audrey’s letter, asked curiously, “Miss, how do you plan to change the tiara?”

Isabel replied, “I’ve thought of a brilliant idea.”

Emily leaned in, eager to hear.

Isabel smiled. “Just like last time, go pray under the tree.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “Are you joking?!”

Isabel remained silent, smiling at her.

Emily’s expression shifted from shock to disbelief.

But out of unconditional trust in Isabel, Emily carried out the absurd instruction, even mentioning the wedding painter in the process.

Of course, she didn’t actually pray under the tree. Instead, she went through the motions of making symbolic inquiries around town, as she had done before, and ended by devoutly bowing three times under the large tree by the lake.

Just when she thought nothing would come of it, the next day, a vaguely familiar man stopped her.

Tall and long-legged, the man wore a crisply ironed three-piece suit and gold-rimmed glasses, exuding the aura of a professional middle-class elite.

“Miss Emily,” he said, “on Lady Violet’s orders, the sapphire tiara is being custom-made and will be completed before the wedding. Additionally, the court painter will arrive in Charlves this afternoon. Please inform Miss Isabel.”

Stunned, Emily watched as the man turned to leave and hurriedly asked, “Mr. Snail! What’s your name? I mean, sir, you…”

The man frowned, avoiding Emily’s hand as if she were unclean, and replied politely but distantly, “Victor, the Duke’s assistant. I’ll be going if there’s nothing else.”

Without waiting for a response, he walked away.

It seemed that running such trivial errands for the Duke greatly annoyed Mr. Victor.

Dazzled by this unexpected success, Emily rushed to tell Isabel the news. After relaying the message, she couldn’t help but wonder, “Mr. Victor said he’s the Duke’s assistant and that the old lady sent him. Is Lady Violet really this kind? She agreed just like that?”

Isabel, lowering her eyes to her book, raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Who knows? The Spencer family seems full of good people.”

She had no intention of exposing the stubborn “Mr. Snail.” Men always had their inexplicable stubbornness and disguises.

Isabel leisurely turned a page.

There was no need to fathom their intentions. As long as they could serve her purposes, that was enough.