Grace in Wonderland - Chapter 125

125. The Rustic and the Seductress

“There are two things I want,” Eurus said with a radiant smile.

Without responding, Richard gave a brief nod.

“Someday, I want you to save my life.”

“Your life?”

Was the brat already under threat of assassination? Considering Deimos Cavendish’s appalling personality, such concerns weren’t entirely unwarranted.

“From whom?”

“I don’t know. How could I predict the future?”

“For someone making such a request, you don’t seem particularly attached to living.”

“That’s true.”

“Then why make such a request?”

“Who knows? Perhaps someday I’ll want to live.”

It was an utterly nonsensical conversation. Yet Richard refrained from further commentary and asked about the second request.

“What’s the other one?”

“I want to buy a horse.”

When people make two requests, the second one is often the true priority. Richard was slightly annoyed by the unexpected demand. Was a horse more important than one’s life?

“I hear the Spencer family’s horse farms are the finest in Ingrint.”

That was true. Exceptional horses like Sono didn’t come from just any farm.

The Spencers’ founder had been a mercenary who earned fame on the battlefield and used that fame to gain titles and wealth. As such, the Spencers had always been close to horses—a soldier’s steadfast companion.

The Spencer family owned several large horse farms in southern Ingrint, exclusively for the men of the family. Outsiders were strictly prohibited from approaching these farms.

“I would like permission to visit the farm in Burwood.”

“Doesn’t the Devonshire family have their own suppliers?”

“None of their horses catch my eye.”

“……”

Was he planning to ride into battle? While the Spencers’ horses were renowned, the Devonshire family’s stock was hardly inferior.

Eurus’s request wasn’t particularly difficult to grant. Still, it was absurd that he wanted to visit the farm simply as compensation for providing information about Grace. He wasn’t even asking for a gift; he intended to purchase one.

“I’ll make arrangements for you to pick any horse you like at Burwood. You won’t need to pay; just choose the one that satisfies you.”

“No, thank you. I insist on paying.”

“…Fine.”

Eurus gained little from this meeting. Whatever his ulterior motives were, Richard didn’t argue further.

Requesting to have his life saved in the future was neither concrete nor realistic. Clearly, it was merely a formality to balance the scales.

Had he simply asked to visit the horse farm in exchange for saving Grace’s life, it would have seemed disproportionate. By first making a grander request, he had paved the way for his true desire.

But why refuse a free horse? Was he trying to spy on their breeding methods? Richard resolved to instruct the caretakers at Burwood to ensure no information leaked out.

“I’ll take my leave now.”

Unaware of Richard Spencer’s swirling thoughts, Eurus stood up with a content expression. Remaining seated, Richard accepted his farewell and watched the slim figure leave.

“Ri-Richard.”

A few minutes after Eurus left, Grace peeked into the drawing room.

Her cheeks, flushed with a soft pink hue, and her short breaths, paired with her restless fingers, were undeniable signs of a blossoming infatuation. Or rather, outright love. Richard smiled at her, tilting his body slightly to highlight his more confident right side.

“W-who was that just now?”

Huh? The person who just left? The Devonshire bastard?

The refined smile on Richard’s face crumbled into an ugly scowl. With a sour expression, he asked, “Do you know him, Grace?”

“I-I saw him at the Duke’s estate once.”

Come to think of it, that bastard had mentioned the same thing. Grace had supposedly saved him from some bothersome situation.

“Did that brat—I mean, did he say or do anything inappropriate to you? If so, I’ll—”

“N-no! It’s just…”

“Just what? What are you—”

“He’s so…so handsome!”

“……”

A bolt from the blue—that’s what it felt like. Richard remembered the rumors Sebastian had once haughtily recounted after hearing about that bastard somewhere.

“He’s famous for shooting golden arrows straight into the hearts of Lydon’s ladies.”

So Grace’s flushed cheeks, her radiant complexion, her short breaths, and her restless fingers…

I should have visited Duke’s estate or invited him to an outside club. In trying to avoid unnecessary rumors, I invited an illegitimate son to the Earl’s residence instead, and that turned out to be the most unnecessary thing of all.

“Grace, he’s someone you don’t need to know.”

“Yes?”

Not only someone she doesn’t need to know, but someone she must not know.

“He’s very…”

“Very…?”

“Dangerous.”

“D-dangerous? How?”

“I’ve heard he shoots arrows at just anyone. The number of his victims is staggering.”

“…W-what? H-how can someone like that roam freely?”

“Of course, he shouldn’t be roaming freely. But since he’s the illegitimate son of the Duke of Devonshire, no one can touch…”

“Ri-Richard, I’m scared.”

“Grace… don’t worry. You are the future lady of the Spencer family. I will protect you…”

“Ri-Richard…”

Sebastian was the greatest victim of this absurd romance. Out of a sheer determination not to let the servants witness their master’s embarrassing antics, he always stood guard outside whenever the Young Earl and his lover were together in the drawing room.

Golden arrows, my foot. There’s no room for any arrow to pierce Grace Montague’s heart. A thick-skinned lion is firmly standing guard.

Sebastian had seen it clearly. When Grace Montague encountered the illegitimate son of Devonshire and exchanged greetings, she had shown none of this behavior.

Grace Montague had met Eurus at the entrance to the Spencer mansion just as he was leaving. Eurus had introduced himself first, and they’d exchanged a few words about the weather before parting without hesitation.

But the moment she arrived in the drawing room and met Richard Spencer, she began saying things like that. If she wasn’t deliberately trying to provoke the Young Earl’s jealousy, what could it possibly mean?

Sebastian recalled the days when he had sat with Richard, worrying whether Mary Montague’s adopted daughter might turn out to be cunning and sly. He had once suspected that Grace Gurton was an evil woman who would embezzle the family’s wealth and use the Montague name to climb the social ladder.

Now that everything was clear, he realized that theory was half true and half false. Grace Montague wasn’t a greedy, status-obsessed villainess. So that part was false.

But Grace Montague being a cunning and sly “strategic heroine” was a statement with a perfect accuracy of ten out of ten. And it applied exclusively to Richard Spencer.

Where did she learn such tricks?

If Richard Spencer were a rustic, living in the wilderness and meeting a woman for the first time after coming to the city, then Grace Montague was the seductress who could toy with his heart. In reality, Richard was the crown jewel of Lydon’s social scene, and Grace was a country girl from Grentabridge.

The laughter that had been ringing out from the drawing room suddenly ceased. Last time, the sound of a teacup shattering had startled Sebastian into flinging open the door, only to be mortified by the scene he witnessed inside.

It would be better if those two hurried up and got married already. Once they were a legal couple, they could do whatever they wanted in their bedroom.

That way, Sebastian wouldn’t have to endure the self-loathing that came with overhearing such things at his age. Why they were waiting until next June, he couldn’t fathom.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang from the drawing room. Instinctively, Sebastian reached for the door handle but then stepped back, recalling the awkward scenes he had witnessed before. He decided to listen first. If something went wrong, the Young Earl would surely call for him.

After a brief silence, the sound of piano keys being played chaotically filled the air. The piano in the drawing room, crafted over several years by an artisan from Prussen, was one of Freya Spencer’s cherished possessions.

May Lady Spencer stay in Wormleighton for a long, long time. That piano seemed destined to lose dozens of keys today.

Sebastian hummed “God Save the Queen” all the way through the third verse as he stood guard outside the door. Meanwhile, the cacophony of a duet—a chaotic blend of piano notes—echoed endlessly from within.