Grace in Wonderland - Chapter 113

113. Scheme

“Oh? Miss Gurton?”

Grace had a peculiar rule when it came to balls: she had attended only two in her life, and both times, the person accompanying her disappeared, leaving her to encounter Edmund Beaufort. Based on this scant sample size, she had developed a statistical “rule” that lacked any real value, a trap she frequently fell into. And yet, Edmund Beaufort always stumbled into that trap with her.

“Wow! Meeting Miss Gurton in a place like this. How have you been? Oh, should I call you Lady Montague now?”

Edmund Beaufort straightened his large, bear-like frame and greeted her warmly. Grace adjusted her attire and responded with a faint smile.

“Ah, hello.”

Grace had been following the directions Freya had given her: walk straight, turn right at the second corridor, and enter the third of four walnut doors to head diagonally southwest. But navigating the dimly lit interior of the Devonshire estate was no easy task, especially with a mask covering her entire face. Frustrated, she had removed the mask, only to run directly into Edmund Beaufort, revealing her embarrassment.

“W-what brings you here?” Grace asked.

Edmund’s expression faltered momentarily before he gave a genial smile.

His hesitation stemmed from a rather trivial reason: after a fiery rendezvous with a widowed noblewoman deep within the estate, he was making his way out with a deliberate time gap. But now, here was Grace, standing before him.

“I was playing cards with some friends and was just leaving,” he replied brazenly, even as he felt the lingering heat on his neck. Another part of him, still not entirely cooled, prompted him to hastily fasten his loosened coat.

“But what about you, my lady? What are you doing here? Who’s the fool who left such a beautiful lady all alone at a masquerade?”

Edmund’s question carried genuine curiosity, as Grace’s presence far from the ballroom seemed unusual.

“Richard Spencer. That fool,” he answered his own question with a smirk. Grace smiled faintly at his words.

Ah, the art of distance. So close, yet so far.

Edmund Beaufort’s eyes lingered on Grace’s smile, and he clicked his tongue lightly. Then, he approached her and offered his left arm.

“Wherever you’re headed, let me escort you.”

“Th-thank you. I-I was just on my way to the garden.”

And so, the two walked together toward the southwest corridor, eventually arriving at a staircase. As they prepared to descend, voices echoed from the floor below.

“Will you be attending the ball tonight?”

“No, I won’t.”

“Why not? With a mask on, no one would recognize you.”

“I’m not interested in the ball.”

“Oh, come on…”

The world’s most entertaining spectacles are fires in other people’s houses and lovers’ quarrels. With this, another item was added to Grace’s ball rule: overhearing lovers’ spats with Edmund Beaufort.

Grace instantly recognized one of the voices. It was Freya Spencer’s, unmistakable since they’d been together not long ago.

Edmund and Grace hesitated, unable to move. Then, Edmund’s broad frame accidentally brushed against the staircase railing, causing one of his coat buttons to make a sharp clink.

The loud, jangling woman’s voice immediately fell silent. Moments later, the rustling sound of a dress and the slam of a door followed.

“Eurus, couldn’t you have declined more gently?”

It was the voice of the same man who had been chatting earlier in the corridor. He sounded reproachful.

“I’ve told you before, I can’t stand women like her.”

“Why would you say that about someone as beautiful as Freya Spencer? Are you blind?”

“Then you can deal with her tantrums.”

“I’d love to, but…”

“I’m going to ride my horse.”

The man who had dismissed Freya Spencer cut the other off mid-sentence. After a few more words exchanged between the two, the sound of their footsteps grew distant.

Grace’s tensed shoulders finally relaxed. She leaned slightly over the banister, watching the two men disappear into the distance.

At that moment, the blond man turned around. His face, still carrying a hint of boyishness yet undeniably striking, momentarily took Grace’s breath away. His cold, indifferent blue eyes glanced at Grace and then shifted away.

“So that must be the Duke of Devonshire’s illegitimate son. I’ve only heard rumors about him, but this is my first time seeing him in person,” said Edmund Beaufort with intrigue. Thus, a new figure etched itself into the discerning eyes of the arbiter of beauty.

Beauty can be both relative and absolute. If Grace appeared relatively beautiful to Edmund, Eurus was absolutely beautiful to everyone. He was beauty itself, impervious to any criticism or reproach.

Artists need muses. With that face, Eurus could serve as the ultimate muse for a painter, a musician, or a writer. Edmund thought of a few painters who had fallen into creative slumps and were producing fewer works these days.

“My lady, I’ll take my leave here. The garden you’re looking for is just down the stairs and through the passage.”

In his haste, Edmund clumsily descended the stairs, his voice tinged with both guilt toward Grace and excitement at discovering a new muse.

“I’m sorry I can’t escort you all the way. Next time, I’ll be sure to visit and apologize properly!”

“……”

Grace watched the large man disappear swiftly down the hallway, then hesitated for a moment before gripping the banister and cautiously descending the stairs.

“Um, Lady Grace Montague.”

When she emerged into the garden, someone called out to her from behind. Grace turned toward the voice.

The man who addressed her was a servant of the Spencer household. The attire he wore was unmistakably that of an earl’s servant, and his unmasked face was familiar to her.

“W-what is it?”

“The Young Earl has instructed me to bring you to him.”

Grace tilted her head slightly in curiosity. “Wh-where to?”

“He said you must return home now.”

“B-but the fireworks haven’t started yet.”

“I’m not privy to the details. I’m simply carrying out my orders.”

Seeing his discomfort, Grace decided to set aside her doubts and follow him. She could always ask Richard Spencer directly for an explanation. She didn’t want to make the innocent servant feel uneasy.

“A-alright. P-please, lead the way.”

The servant guided Grace to the rear entrance of the duke’s estate. It was customary for guests’ carriages to wait near the main entrance. Grace gave the servant a questioning look.

“Ah, the main entrance is quite crowded with carriages. It’ll be quicker to leave from here,” he explained.

“I-I see. Th-then, where is the Young Earl?”

“He’s waiting in the carriage.” The servant gestured toward a carriage parked at the rear entrance.

Grace obediently followed him. But just before boarding, she turned back to the servant and asked, “I-is the Young Earl really inside?”

“Yes, of course,” the servant replied.

Grace frowned. The carriage in front of them didn’t belong to the Spencer family. It was an ordinary, shabby carriage with no distinguishing features, making it highly unlikely that Richard Spencer was inside.

Moreover, Richard Spencer would never let Grace board or disembark a carriage alone. As a grand nobleman with impeccable manners, his escorts were always fluid and graceful, like a flowing river, and imbued with a sweetness that lingered like melted sugar.

If he were actually in the carriage, he would have stepped out immediately to take her hand and escort her. In fact, he would have been waiting outside the carriage before Grace even reached the rear entrance.

No, Richard Spencer would never have sent only a servant to fetch her. He would have come to find her himself, explained the situation, and escorted her out of the duke’s estate. He was, after all, a kind and responsible man.

“E-excuse me,” Grace said, locking eyes with the servant. “H-how did you know I was there?”

“Pardon?”

The servant’s eyes darted nervously.

“D-did you follow me?”

“Ah, yes. My apologies. The Young Earl was concerned and instructed me to follow you discreetly. So…”

“W-who is inside the carriage?”

“Why, the Young Earl, of course.”

“D-don’t lie to me.”

“Pardon?”

“I-I’ve been standing here for a while, and there’s been no movement from inside the carriage. T-that doesn’t make any sense.”

“……”

The servant fell silent, lowering his head. At that moment, the carriage door burst open. A man jumped out, struck the servant down, and grabbed Grace’s wrist roughly. Her vision darkened, as if a candle had been snuffed out.