Grace in Wonderland - Chapter 19

19. The Reflection in the Mirror

“Young Master, the ship carrying Lady d’Estrée is docking at Lydon Port as we speak.”

When Sebastian burst into the study, Richard was calmly reading a newspaper while sipping tea after finishing breakfast. Just as at Grentabridge, the Young Earl’s orderly lifestyle continued even here.

He rose early, had a simple breakfast, skimmed through six different newspapers, studied or read, ate lunch, attended to pending tasks, enjoyed a brief horse ride, took a walk, had dinner, and then read or studied again before going to bed. His days were an endless repetition of this routine.

Even Sebastian, who was in his thirties, didn’t lead such a monotonous life. Yet his master, barely past his early twenties, adhered to this tedious daily schedule with a military-like rigidity.

The most exciting variation in Richard Spencer’s otherwise dull life was today’s trip to the harbor to welcome Eleanor d’Estrée.

Most people misunderstood Richard Spencer. They assumed he lived indulgently, reveling in his vanity as a narcissist.

But contrary to popular belief, Richard was remarkably disciplined. During his time at Grentabridge College, he never set foot in a pub or flirted with a single woman. It wouldn’t be surprising if he was the only student who could make such a claim. To him, joining the rugby club at university had been his most rebellious act.

“I should prepare to go out.”

Richard placed the newspaper down on the table without hesitation.

“Shall I ready the carriage immediately?”

“Please do so.”

As soon as Sebastian left the room, Richard stood and walked into the bedroom adjacent to his study. Facing the mirror on the wall, he checked his reflection.

It was always the same. The same parting of his hair, the same length, styled immaculately with pomade, ensuring not a strand was out of place. His left eye and temple were always concealed, never revealed. The reflection of Richard in the mirror was consistently identical.

Richard hated mirrors. Though he never admitted it to anyone, the truth was he feared them. This was one reason he often visited bodies of water.

The water’s surface blurred what he didn’t want to face and selectively revealed only what he wanted to see.

The current’s speed changed constantly, depending on the strength of the wind, the amount of water, and the terrain. The water’s color shifted with the sunlight, passing clouds, and raindrops.

When the water surged, Richard’s reflection distorted. When it flowed gently, his face appeared serene. In bright sunlight, it brightened; under a sky covered with clouds, it darkened; and when rain fell, it wavered.

Thus, the water’s surface cleverly concealed the aspects of himself he wished to avoid. Its endlessly rippling nature was not cruel enough to clearly point out every flaw in detail. The waves were generous to Richard Spencer.

In contrast, the mirror—it was an unflinchingly honest object. If objects could possess a temperament, Richard thought, the mirror would harbor the coldest, harshest heart in existence.

It reflected everything he didn’t want to see. It showed him, without fail, everything he wanted to avoid.

Just like now, as it showed Lancelot Spencer standing behind him in the reflection.

“Richard.”

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

“Lancelot.”

Lancelot was Richard’s twin brother. Except for the color of their eyes, their appearances were identical, like mirrored reflections. This similarity made facing Lancelot as uncomfortable as looking at his own reflection.

“Am I interrupting you?”

“No.”

Richard’s reply was brief. Their conversations were always like this. When Lancelot approached, Richard stepped back. When Lancelot spoke, Richard responded minimally.

“Sebastian seemed busy, so I came myself.”

“I see.”

Lancelot spoke in a soft, calm tone.

As children, Lancelot always sought out Richard. Like a boy wooing a beloved friend, like a disciple seeking divine guidance, he adored his brother.

Lancelot, like most children, enjoyed showing off what he had. In his case, it was the favoritism of the Countess Spencer. Richard resented seeing what Lancelot had.

Because of this, despite the many shared traits between twins, Richard and Lancelot had grown irreparably distant. The incident in the Lake District cemented the chasm between them, making reconciliation impossible.

“What is it, Lancelot?” Richard asked nonchalantly as he slipped his arm into the sleeve of his coat.

“Someone from the Montague mansion has arrived.”

At Lancelot’s reply, Richard stopped what he was doing and waited for him to elaborate.

Lady Mary Montague wasn’t the type to send a messenger for trivial matters. For her to dispatch someone so early in the morning suggested that something significant had occurred.

“Aunt collapsed and asked if the Earl’s physician could be sent over…”

“What?”

Richard stepped forward sharply, causing Lancelot to take an involuntary step back as he continued speaking.

“They said she fell from her chair during breakfast this morning. Since she hasn’t been back in the country for long and hasn’t yet established a contract with a physician, it’s hard to find someone suitable, so they’re asking for help.”

“Why in the world…”

Richard’s chest tightened. When he saw her just a few days ago, she had seemed healthy. She had appeared thinner, but her complexion wasn’t poor.

“I couldn’t get the details since I was in a hurry to come here. Now that you’re back, it’s not my place to decide, so I came to inform you.”

“Lord Montague hasn’t returned yet, so who sent the messenger?”

“It seems to be the woman she plans to adopt as her daughter. If her name is Grace Gurton, that is.”

Grace Gurton again. Listening to Lancelot’s explanation, Richard quickly gave urgent instructions to the servant standing at the door.

“Send someone to fetch the physician immediately and have them escorted to the Montague mansion. Make sure they thoroughly assess her condition, determine the extent of any injuries from her fall, and report back to me in detail.”

The servant dashed out promptly. Richard ruffled his hair absentmindedly, while Lancelot’s eyes flickered momentarily toward his left temple before looking away, as if he hadn’t noticed anything.

“Thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course, it was the right thing to do.”

Richard resumed putting on his coat, prompting Lancelot’s expression to stiffen.

“Richard, are you going to pick up Eleanor?”

“I should, shouldn’t I?”

His arm fumbled as he tried to slip it into the opposite sleeve. Frustrated, Richard tugged at the coat with clear irritation.

“Shouldn’t you check on Aunt first?”

“……”

“If she collapsed, it could be serious.”

“……”

“She’s important to you…”

“I have an appointment with Lady d’Estrée first. I’ll visit Aunt afterward.”

“The order of things isn’t what’s important.”

Lancelot’s soft-spoken persuasion lingered. Richard paused to consider his words.

“……”

Lancelot was right. In some cases, priority had to be given based on urgency, not just the order of events.

“You’re right, Lancelot.”

Richard made up his mind. Quickly pulling on his coat, this time successfully, he addressed Lancelot with a request.

“Tell the butler to meet Lady d’Estrée in my place. I’ll head to the Montague mansion. I’ll personally apologize for my rudeness to her this evening.”

As Richard was about to leave, Lancelot hastily stopped him.

“Uh, Richard.”

Richard freed his wrist from Lancelot’s grip and tilted his head, looking directly into his brother’s eyes, startled by his uncharacteristic behavior.

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

“You?”

“Yes. It would look better and be more appropriate than sending the butler.”

Lancelot’s face was visibly tense. Richard observed him for a moment before giving a short reply.

“Alright, then.”

“……”

“You’re right; it would be less offensive to Lady d’Estrée if you went instead of the butler.”

Lancelot was acquainted with Eleanor d’Estrée. When she had visited Ingrint as a child, he had been with Richard during her stay.

Recalling those times, Eleanor had seemed to get along better with Lancelot. Compared to Richard, who had shown little interest, the more approachable and kind Lancelot had taken better care of Eleanor, who struggled with the Ingrintian language.

From Eleanor’s perspective, she might even prefer Lancelot’s presence. After all, even if Richard were to go, their carriage ride would be filled with silence after exchanging a few pleasantries. And with his concern for Lady Montague weighing on his mind, he wouldn’t be in the mood to converse.

“Then, I leave it to you.”

Leaving those words behind, Richard departed. Left alone in the empty room, Lancelot clenched his fists and remained standing there for a long time.