Grace in Wonderland - Chapter 19

19. Reflection in the Mirror

“Master, Lady d’Estrée’s ship is docking at Lydon Harbor.”

When Sebastian hurriedly opened the study door, Richard was sitting at the table, sipping tea and reading the newspaper after breakfast. As in Grentabridge, the Young Earl’s disciplined routine persisted here as well.

Rising early, having a simple breakfast, skimming through six different newspapers, studying or reading, having lunch, catching up on work, riding briefly, taking a walk, having dinner, then studying or reading again until bedtime—Richard’s days were monotonously repetitive.

Even Sebastian, in his thirties, didn’t lead such a dull life, yet his master, barely in his twenties, lived like this day in and day out. Today’s trip to Lydon Harbor to meet Eleanor d’Estrée was the only deviation in his otherwise regimented life.

Few people truly understood this side of Richard Spencer. Most assumed, as befitting a narcissist, that he indulged recklessly in his whims.

Yet, contrary to expectations, Richard adhered to strict principles. During his time at college, he had never set foot in a pub nor sought the company of women. The only “rebellious” act he allowed himself was playing rugby at university.

“I should prepare to go out.”

Richard set the newspaper down on the table without hesitation.

“Shall I ready the carriage immediately?”

“Yes, please.”

Once Sebastian exited and closed the door, Richard rose and entered his bedroom, which was connected directly to the study. He stood before a wall-mounted mirror to check his appearance.

It was always the same. The same part in his hair, the same length, slicked back neatly with pomade to prevent stray strands, and his left temple and eye area carefully concealed. The reflection of Richard Spencer in the mirror was always consistent.

Richard disliked looking at mirrors. More precisely, he feared them—a fact he had never shared with anyone. This was why he often visited the waterside.

The surface of the water blurred what he didn’t want to confront, selectively revealing only what he wished to see.

The flow of water changed constantly depending on the wind, volume, and terrain. The water’s color shifted with sunlight, passing clouds, or raindrops.

When the current was strong, Richard’s reflection distorted. When the water flowed gently, his face appeared serene. Bright sunlight made his image glow; overcast skies darkened it, and rain made it tremble.

Thus, the water surface cleverly obscured the parts of himself he preferred to avoid. The restless nature of water spared him the cruelty of highlighting his flaws with stark clarity. The ripples were kind to Richard Spencer.

Mirrors, on the other hand, were unyielding. If objects had personalities, Richard thought, mirrors would be the coldest and most unforgiving of all.

They showed everything he didn’t want to see, faithfully reflecting what he sought to avoid.

Like now, when Lancelot Spencer appeared behind him in the mirror.

“Richard.”

Lancelot approached. Richard tore his gaze from the mirror and turned around.

“Lancelot.”

Lancelot was Richard’s twin brother. Aside from their eye colors, their appearances were identical, like mirrored reflections. This made meeting Lancelot as uncomfortable as confronting his own reflection.

“Am I interrupting?”

“No.”

Richard’s response was curt. Their conversations always followed this pattern: Lancelot approached, Richard withdrew; Lancelot spoke, Richard replied with the bare minimum.

“Sebastian seemed busy, so I came myself.”

“Alright.”

Lancelot spoke softly, his tone gentle.

As children, Lancelot constantly sought out Richard. Like a boy courting affection or an apostle seeking divine words, he adored his brother.

Lancelot, like any ordinary child, enjoyed showing off what he had. What Lancelot had was the Countess’s favoritism. Richard couldn’t stand seeing what his brother possessed.

For this reason, despite the many similarities they shared as twins, Richard and Lancelot grew distant to the point of having no common ground. An incident in the Lake District only made their relationship irreparable.

“What brings you here, Lancelot?”

Richard asked indifferently while slipping his arm into his coat sleeve.

“Someone came from the Montague mansion.”

Richard paused, waiting for him to continue.

Lady Mary Montague wasn’t the type to send a messenger over trivial matters. Sending someone so early in the day implied something significant had occurred.

“Aunt collapsed and requested the Earl’s physician.”

“What?”

Richard stepped forward abruptly, making Lancelot take a step back as he continued.

“She collapsed this morning during breakfast, falling from her chair. Since she returned to the country only recently and hadn’t yet arranged for a regular physician, they’re asking for help.”

“Why…”

Richard’s stomach churned. When he had last seen Lady Montague just days ago, she seemed healthy. Though she appeared slightly thinner, her complexion had been fine.

“I rushed here, so I didn’t get the full details. Since you’re back now, I thought the decision was yours to make.”

“With Lord Montague still abroad, who sent the messenger?”

“I believe it was the woman Aunt intends to adopt as her dayghter—Grace Gurton, if I heard correctly.”

Ah, Grace Gurton again. Hearing this, Richard hurriedly instructed the servant standing by the door.

“Send someone to the physician immediately and guide him to the Montague mansion. Have him thoroughly examine Lady Montague’s condition, determine how she was injured when she fell, and report back to me.”

The servant quickly ran off. Richard ruffled his hair absentmindedly, and Lancelot’s gaze briefly flickered to his left temple before darting away.

“Thank you for letting me know.”

“It was only my duty.”

Richard resumed putting on his coat. Watching this, Lancelot’s face grew tense.

“Richard, are you going to meet Eleanor?”

“I suppose I should.”

His arm struggled to find the other sleeve, and he yanked the coat in frustration.

“Shouldn’t you visit Aunt first?”

“……”

“If she collapsed, it could be serious.”

“……”

“Aunt is important to you…”

“Lady d’Estrée’s arrival was scheduled first. I’ll visit Aunt after that.”

“The order of events isn’t what matters.”

Lancelot’s quiet persuasion lingered in the air. Richard paused to consider his words.

“……”

Lancelot was right. Sometimes, priority isn’t about sequence but weight.

“You’re right, Lancelot.”

Richard made his decision. Quickly adjusting his coat, he turned to Lancelot, his movements now fluid.

“Tell the butler to meet Lady d’Estrée in my stead. I’ll head to the Montague mansion. I’ll explain my absence to her personally at dinner tonight.”

As he stepped toward the door, Lancelot stopped him.

“Richard.”

Richard gently pulled his wrist free, tilting his head as he met his brother’s gaze. Lancelot’s unusual behavior caught him off guard.

“Can I go to meet Eleanor instead of the butler?”

“You?”

“Yes. It would be more appropriate for me to go than the butler. It would seem less rude.”

Tension was evident on Lancelot’s face. Richard studied him silently before giving a brief reply.

“Alright, then.”

“……”

“You’re right. Lady d’Estrée would likely find it more agreeable if you went instead of the butler.”

Lancelot was also acquainted with Eleanor d’Estrée. When she had visited Ingrint as a child, Lancelot had been beside Richard.

Reflecting on that time, Eleanor and Lancelot had gotten along better. Unlike Richard, who showed little interest in her, Lancelot had been friendlier and more attentive, often helping her navigate her struggles with Ingrintian.

From Eleanor’s perspective, she might even prefer Lancelot to greet her. If Richard were to go, the carriage ride would likely be filled with silence after a perfunctory exchange of pleasantries. He would have no inclination for small talk, especially with his thoughts occupied by concern for Lady Montague.

“Then, I’ll leave it to you.”

With that, Richard left. Alone in the empty room, Lancelot stood still, clenching his fists.