Grace in Wonderland - Chapter 2

2. Unwelcome News

“Richard, this time you won’t be able to avoid it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Since enrolling, you’ve never gone back, have you? Don’t you wonder how your younger sister is doing?”

“Freya and I exchange letters from time to time. It’s none of your business, so I’d appreciate it if you refrained from further unnecessary interest.”

Richard spoke while adjusting the academic cap in his hands. His previously rigid expression softened slightly.

Whenever the topic of his family came up, Richard usually exuded a cold atmosphere, as if braving the harsh North Sea winds. However, when Freya Spencer, the youngest of the Spencer family, was mentioned, his furrowed brow often relaxed, as if touched by the gentle Mediterranean breeze.

“Richard, the truth is, I came to tell you something.”

“If it’s something from my mother, I don’t need to hear it.”

Richard responded indifferently, fully aware that Graham Harold often sought him out to relay news from the Spencer estate.

“Regrettably, it’s not that this time.”

“Then what is it?”

Graham looked around briefly before speaking, “I heard that Lady Montague has returned to the country.”

“My aunt? Already?”

Richard, who had been walking straight ahead, immediately turned his head toward Graham.

“How do you know that? Her last letter to me earlier this year didn’t mention anything of the sort.”

“Well, my mother and I are on excellent terms. She wrote to me about it just the other day. Apparently, the Lady arrived in Lydon unexpectedly early last week, ahead of her husband. It seems to have caused quite a stir in society.”

“I see.”

“So, doesn’t this mean you’ll have to face the Countess…”

Richard abruptly cut him off.

“Graham.”

“……”

“Keep in mind that excessive advice is impolite.”

At Richard’s cold warning, Graham raised both hands in mock surrender, as if conceding.

Ordinarily, Richard Spencer wasn’t particularly difficult, but when provoked, he could wield a chillingly sharp demeanor. This was especially true when the topic concerned the Countess.

“…Fair enough.”

An awkward silence enveloped the two as they resumed their walk along the long corridor.

However, the stillness didn’t last long. Richard’s eagerness to learn more about Lady Montague’s situation quickly overpowered his annoyance.

“She isn’t unwell, is she?”

“Lady Montague?”

When Graham asked back, Richard nodded.

“Well, there was no mention of that in the letter. If there had been, the news would’ve spread quickly.”

“I see. That’s good to know.”

A look of relief settled on Richard’s face.

Richard disliked Lady Montague’s prolonged stays abroad. Partly because her health wasn’t the best, but mostly because he longed to have her nearby.

Graham Harold was one of the few who knew that Richard regarded his aunt, Mary Montague, as a mother figure rather than his birth mother, the Countess Spencer. He also understood that the news he was about to share might profoundly unsettle Richard.

Graham studied Richard’s expression carefully before continuing, “Actually, there was something surprising in my mother’s letter.”

“What is it?”

“Lady Montague plans to adopt a daughter.”

“…A daughter?”

At Richard’s question, Graham nodded once to confirm. While Richard, who lived practically estranged from the main house in Lydon, was unaware, the announcement had become one of the hottest topics in Lydon’s social circles.

“Suddenly adopting a daughter? What does that mean? Are you sure?”

Richard abruptly stopped in his tracks. Standing motionless on the polished wooden floor, he looked as out of place as a lost wanderer. His uncharacteristic rise in tone drew glances from a couple of students passing by on their way out of the exam building.

“It seems she’s been supporting a child for some time. As you know, the Lady and her husband have no children of their own. She must have finally made up her mind.”

“But still, why a daughter and not a son?”

Richard’s face was filled with confusion. His hand clenched and unclenched anxiously over his chest, crushing the unfortunate carnation into a misshapen lump.

“It is surprising. After all, it would make more sense to adopt a boy to continue the family line.”

Graham also agreed with Richard’s sentiment. Mary Montague’s decision was nothing short of a shock, like throwing a stone into the stagnant waters of Lydon’s social circles.

For over fifteen years of marriage, the Montague couple had remained childless. Despite their tremendous affection for each other, their household had never welcomed a new member, as if proving the superstition that too much love between husband and wife pushes children away.

Anthony Montague, Mary’s husband, was an unusually progressive man for someone from Ingrint. Hoping to broaden Mary’s horizons, he chose to become a diplomat, selecting it from among many paths available to him. He frequently lived abroad and always took Mary with him.

For years, their routine consisted of completing overseas assignments, returning briefly to Lydon, and then heading back abroad. Since childhood, Richard Spencer had eagerly awaited the Montague couple’s returns to Ingrint.

Had he not been the Spencer family’s eldest son, he would have insisted on being adopted into the Montague family. In fact, in his early teens, Richard often entertained such thoughts.

But now, his once-dreamed-of scenario was unfolding for someone else—a stranger whose name and face he didn’t know and who was, to his dismay, a “woman.” Richard found it impossible to look at the situation optimistically.

Mary Montague was a compassionate woman. Richard knew she had supported numerous children over the years.

However, that was all under the guise of “sponsorship.” Formally inducting someone of unknown origins into the family, making them “part of her household,” was an entirely different matter. For Richard, accepting this development was absolutely out of the question.

“Graham. Do you know anything else about this child?”

“This child?”

“I mean the one who’s going to be my aunt’s adopted daughter.”

After a long silence, Richard finally broke it. Graham rubbed his temples as if troubled, then replied, “Well, she’s a nineteen-year-old woman.”

“…What?”

“Exactly as I said. Not a ‘child,’ but a ‘woman.’ An adult woman. She’s over sixteen, after all.”

Graham’s response left Richard at a loss for words once again.

When he heard the term “adopted daughter,” he’d naturally assumed it referred to a young child, perhaps five or six years old, or even younger. While adoption wasn’t common in noble society, particularly given the emphasis on bloodlines, it wasn’t unheard of.

But bringing in a fully grown woman was unprecedented. Usually, a male child from a collateral branch was adopted to continue the family line.

“It’s certainly unusual. My mother was astonished, too.”

Astonished was an understatement. Graham recalled with a grimace the two pages his mother had filled in her letter, practically overflowing with her excitement.

Richard, his expression tense, asked again, “A nineteen-year-old agreeing to become an adopted daughter? What else do you know about this insane woman?”

Graham looked at Richard with a mix of surprise and intrigue. It was as though he were witnessing snow in midsummer, winter berries ripening in mid-January, or hydrangeas blooming in the desert.

Although Richard often seemed unyielding, it was extraordinarily rare for him to reveal his raw emotions to anyone outside his close circle of attendants. Such a display in a public space was even more unheard of.

“Lady Montague plans to introduce her adopted daughter to society during this year’s social season.”

“What on earth is my aunt thinking? Not only adopting a grown woman but also planning to arrange some grand marriage for her? Graham, does any of this make sense to you?”

“I can’t say, but if Lady Montague has decided to adopt her, it’s certainly within the realm of possibility. After all, she’s already nineteen, so there’s an urgency to marry her off soon.”

Richard bit his lip in frustration at Graham’s reply.

“……”

“Richard, there was a letter enclosed with my mother’s correspondence.”

“……”

“It’s addressed to you.”

“…From whom?”

Richard’s tone conveyed a lack of curiosity, but his reaction suggested otherwise. He had a good idea that this was another subtle attempt to relay news from the Countess or Lancelot. Graham Harold had a penchant for meddling in others’ affairs, a trait typical of someone from the Winchester family.

“Well, judging by the handwriting on the envelope, it seems to be from Lady Montague herself.”

Graham smirked as he playfully waved the envelope in his hand.