Grace in Wonderland - Chapter 34

34. A Request

Mary Montague arrived at the Spencer villa in Bath after meeting Sebastian by the roadside, where he had waited for four long hours. After listening to Sebastian’s lengthy and impassioned account of his frustrations, Mary decided she needed to hear the truth directly from Richard Spencer.

“Richard!”

“How was your journey?”

When Mary stepped out of the carriage, Richard happened to be on a walk. Though they had not seen each other for a few days, Mary Montague approached him as if reuniting with a long-lost son.

“Richard…”

Her eyes swept over his face, handsome as always, but she couldn’t hide her shock. There were dark violet circles under his eyes.

According to Sebastian, he had been lying around daily, staring at the ceiling. Shouldn’t his face be radiant, if not outright glowing, as a result?

Puzzled, Mary Montague took Richard’s hand and led him to the garden, which was in full bloom with violets.

“You must be tired. Wouldn’t it be better to rest inside?”

“I’ve been sitting for so long that the blood in my legs has stopped flowing. I need a walk.”

The garden of the Spencer villa was more natural compared to the estate in Lydon. This was partly due to its location in a resort town and partly due to Richard’s influence. Instead of spending his holidays in Lydon, Richard often traveled to Bath—not because he liked Bath but because he disliked staying at the Spencer estate.

While Richard stayed here, the Countess of Spencer, who otherwise loved Bath, would not set foot in the villa. It was an unspoken agreement between them.

“Where is Grace?”

“She’s likely in the library. Shall I send Sebastian to fetch her?”

“No need. I’ll see her when I go inside anyway.”

“Yes.”

After a brief conversation with Grace Gurton, Richard had hurriedly left the library. The moment he realized his disobedient eyes kept glancing at the tiny mole on her left cheek, his still-rational legs carried him out.

Richard Spencer swore he had never noticed anyone’s mole—especially one less than 0.04 inches in size—in his entire life. It had taken him ten years to notice the massive wart behind Sebastian’s ear. When he finally did, he mentioned it, causing Sebastian to nearly faint. Richard still couldn’t recall which ear it had been.

If someone asked him to describe Eleanor d’Estrée’s face, he would struggle. All that came to mind was the image of dough floating atop her plaster-coated features.

“You’re unusually quiet today, Richard,” Mary remarked, sounding disappointed. Yet her eyes sparkled like a young girl’s in front of a delicious pastry—a look Richard Spencer, seemingly preoccupied, failed to notice.

“It’s nothing. I suppose I’m just tired after finishing the term.”

Exhausted after term—nonsense. Richard Spencer’s iron stamina had carried him through exams and rugby without complaint. Yet here he was, creaking like rusted metal, drenched in violet juice as if the steel of his resolve had been corroded.

“Is something troubling you?”

“Trouble? You must be joking.”

Richard forced a smile, rounding his sharp eyes into softer curves.

‘Actually, there is something on my mind!’ he wanted to shout to the world. So much so that he had even considered consulting an astrologer to predict his future. Bath, after all, was a haven for fortune-tellers profiting from love-stricken couples.

But for the esteemed Young Earl Richard Spencer to frequent such places? Within an hour, the entire population of Bath would know, and within twelve hours, so would all of Lydon. That was the fate of a man who was famous, noble, and remarkable.

“By the way, have you grown close to Grace?”

Sebastian had said that Richard consistently regarded Grace with suspicion, while Grace continued to go her own way. Hoping they would get along, Lady Montague asked with a hint of reproach.

“What would I have to gain by growing close?”

Richard feigned ignorance in response. To confess, he had no desire to get closer to her.

Previously, he had disliked Grace Gurton because he feared she might be a seductress. Now, he disliked her because he feared she might not be one. If she were a seductress, his suffering would have been easier to endure.

“But if Grace becomes my daughter…”

Mary Montague wore a solemn expression. Without realizing it, Richard gathered all the energy of the universe to his ears, focusing intently on her words.

Would Grace Gurton becoming Lady Montague’s adopted daughter truly be a good thing? Since no particularly suspicious points had been found, it shouldn’t matter much if she was adopted. As Sebastian had said, she wouldn’t squander the lady’s fortune.

Then why did this feel so unsettling? Why did the wind suddenly seem cold? Why did the sky feel as though it was darkening?

“I hope you’ll look after her as if she were your younger sister. Of course, I know you have Freya, and I’m not asking you to care for Grace as much as you do for her. It’s just that Anthony and I are old now, and we can’t fully understand everything on the girl’s mind. You’re well-regarded in society, so if you’re kind to her, it will help Grace adapt. Besides, you’re about the same age. I’d be very grateful if you introduced her to good people.”

Ah, so reasonable. Of all the things he’d heard recently, this was the most logical and sensible request.

Richard couldn’t answer immediately and bit his lip in frustration. Seeing this, Mary misunderstood and thought he was unhappy. Her face looked as if she might burst into tears. This was a tactic she often used to sway Richard.

“Perhaps I asked too much of you. I’m sorry, Richard. Please forget what I just said.”

Tears began to fill Mary’s green eyes, the exact same shade as Richard’s. They shimmered like the dewdrops resting on blades of grass at dawn.

This was why Lord Anthony Montague was soft-hearted toward her. He couldn’t bear to see women cry.

Resigned, Richard nodded. Simultaneously, Mary’s eyes, previously moist, regained their sparkling clarity.

“Thank you, Richard. You know I trust you, don’t you?”

To this, Richard silently nodded again. After all, it was true.

“By the way…”

Mary rolled her eyes to check their surroundings and then lowered her voice. Adopting a mischievous expression, she whispered to Richard like a cheeky child.

“Actually, I’ve been looking into potential suitors for Grace.”

“Pardon?”

For a moment, Richard doubted his ears. Potential suitors for Grace?

“Looking into suitors before she’s even formally adopted? Does that mean you plan to marry Grace Gurton off right away?”

Richard’s question carried a note of outrage.

Bringing a woman who had spent her dull days studying in Grentabridge to Lydon should mean giving her two or three years to make friends and gain experience in society, shouldn’t it?

Once adopted, she would no longer be a commoner. Rushing her marriage like cooking beans over a lightning fire was unthinkable for a noblewoman.

“Not right away, of course. But I’d like to settle on a groom as soon as possible. Even if the engagement lasts one or two years.”

Unlike Richard, Mary’s response lacked energy.

If only I weren’t ill, I wouldn’t feel this urgency to settle Grace’s future, Mary thought. Knowing her days were numbered only made her more anxious.

“Still… I understand.”

Richard softened his tone. This time, it was he who looked sullen.

“At any rate, given Grace’s situation, there are two young men who seem suitable as potential husbands.”

“Who are they?”

“Theresius Wilford of Cornwall and Edmund Beaufort of Pembroke.”

Richard raised his right eyebrow, repeating their names a few times before asking for confirmation.

“Who did you say?”

“Oh, don’t act as if you didn’t hear me. I know they’re both your associates. I even heard rumors that you wrestled with them during rugby matches.”

Mary Montague chuckled as if she found the situation amusing.

“To think you were fighting. You never even did that with Lancelot.”

“It was nothing serious.”

“I won’t ask for details. Men grow up throwing punches sometimes. All that matters is that you hit harder and more often.”

“……”

Richard frowned. Damn it, the rumors had already spread. Such was the inevitable life of a public figure. At least he had made the right choice in avoiding astrologers.

“Both families are financially comfortable and hold titles suitable for Grace. The question is, what kind of people those two are. And you’re the one who can answer that, aren’t you?”

Mary looked up at Richard expectantly. He suppressed a groan. So, it’s come to this.