Grace in Wonderland - Chapter 43

43. Backward Pass

Today, Richard finally regained his usual life. When Richard Spencer woke up early in the morning and ordered the newspaper, Sebastian crossed himself in gratitude, relieved that the evil spirit had finally left Richard’s body.

Who could understand the plight of an attendant who had to watch a man, once so disciplined in his routine, idling about in laziness? Who could understand the anguish of seeing a man, who would harass him over even the slightest wrinkle in his jacket, now sunken and surrounded by dark circles that turned his eyes a dull purple?

And yet, in the afternoons, Richard often left his room. Sebastian wondered if he was going out horseback riding, but Richard wasn’t dressed for it. He was certainly within the estate, but Sebastian couldn’t figure out what he was doing or where he was wandering. He even considered tailing him, worried that he might be sleepwalking.

Had it been anyone other than Richard Spencer, Sebastian might have suspected lovesickness. But the Richard Spencer Sebastian knew wasn’t the kind of person who could like someone enough to fall into such a state.

Thus, Sebastian contemplated visiting a famous astrologer in Bath to obtain a talisman or something of the sort. He had heard somewhere that people possessed by evil spirits might behave that way.

“Sebastian, is Grace in the library?”

Richard had been feeling as light as air yesterday and today. Ever since he had generously decided to be “friends” with Grace Gurton, he had been overflowing with manic energy.

How comfortable it was not having to hide anything and being able to grow closer to someone who knew his true self. For the first time in his life, Richard Spencer experienced a kind of comfort he’d never known.

Only now did he understand why Sebastian had constantly nagged him to make friends and at least keep a casual acquaintance with others. Of course, even if he could go back in time, he wouldn’t have bothered listening to such advice. After all, none of them were Grace Gurton.

Until he had defined his relationship with Grace as “friendship,” Richard had been like a shepherd who had lost a sheep in the wilderness. During college chapel services, the Church of Ingrint priest had quoted scripture emphasizing the effort required to retrieve one lost sheep as a necessary labor for all of us.

Back then, Richard had scoffed. Why leave ninety-nine sheep at home to arduously search the rough fields day and night for one? It seemed the height of inefficiency and irrationality.

But now, Richard realized the satisfaction of bringing back one sheep to complete the flock of a hundred. He also discovered that clergymen could occasionally say something right.

Grace Gurton was that very sheep Richard Spencer had lost. A fluffy, round-eared sheep, peeking its head out from behind a door… cute, perhaps. A “friend” who had filled the void in his life, finally creating the perfect number of 100.

Though their newfound friendship didn’t bring dramatic changes to their daily lives, there was one difference. Richard Spencer could now unabashedly take an interest in Grace Gurton’s activities under the pretext of friendship.

“‘Grace’?”

Unlike the elated Richard Spencer, Sebastian, who had heard no explanation, was taken aback. First “that woman,” then “Grace Gurton,” and now just “Grace.” What sudden whim was this?

“Yes, ‘Grace,’” Richard replied indifferently, flipping through some documents.

The papers he was reviewing had been given to him by Mary Montague and were filled with preliminary work regarding the transfer of part of her estate to Grace Gurton. While several lawyers would soon handle the matter, Richard’s input was necessary as he had been managing Lady Montague’s company.

Not long ago, Richard would have vehemently opposed even a single penny of Lady Montague’s wealth going to Grace. But now they were “friends.” He was genuinely relieved that Grace had turned out to be a not-so-bad person, contrary to his initial expectations.

He also appreciated her resolve to care for his aunt in his stead. Thanks to Grace, Richard found himself holding onto a baseless but blossoming hope that Lady Montague would live healthily for decades to come. If that was the case, he might as well comply willingly with her request.

“Why do you call Miss Gurton that, Young Master?”

“Sebastian.” Ignoring Sebastian’s incredulous expression, Richard spoke, “Call her ‘Miss Gurton.’ Once the adoption is complete, call her ‘Lady Montague.’”

“Pardon?”

Not long ago, he had forbidden addressing her as ‘Lady’ due to her origins, and now he was changing his stance. His capriciousness was as fickle as boiling oatmeal.

“But why do you call her ‘Grace’?”

Still, Sebastian had to ask. This was the same man who formally referred to his fiancée, Eleanor d’Estrée, as ‘Lady,’ yet now casually called Grace Gurton by her first name, whom he had so vehemently detested.

“Because Grace and I have decided to be friends.”

“Friends?”

“Yes.”

“The very ‘friend’ that everyone normally has at least one of, but which Richard Spencer, the Young Earl, has never had even one of?”

Richard lifted his gaze from the documents and glared at Sebastian.

“It’s not that I couldn’t have one, but that I didn’t. Let’s make that distinction clear.”

“Then why now?”

“Because I want to.”

Well! After all the nagging to make friends, and now that he finally had one, the attendant couldn’t stop worrying.

“But why Miss Grace Gurton, of all people?”

The kind of friend Sebastian had in mind was someone like Graham Harold, a man from a good family, someone who could help expand political and business connections. Instead, Richard was suddenly befriending a woman.

And more importantly! How could there be such a thing as friendship between men and women?

Sebastian had only fallen in love three times in his life, all unrequited. Each time, he had tried to stay close to the women as “friends” only to see them taken by other men.

No man who talks about friendship with a woman is without ulterior motives. Or perhaps he’s just a fool unaware of his own feelings.

“Young Master, how can men and women be friends?”

“Sebastian, I’ve known it for some time, but you’re an awfully dull person.”

“Dull? Me?”

“It’s because you think in such outdated ways that life seems dull to you. Or perhaps it’s your mind that’s dull.”

Wow… In some countries, the commoners beheaded their kings and wiped out the nobility, didn’t they? Did someone need to demonstrate what it means to keep up with the times to this grand noble?

Sebastian clenched his fist tightly.

“Men and women can share true friendship, like Grace and I.”

“…Who suggested being friends first?”

Sebastian instinctively knew that the answer to this question would point to the truth.

If, by some unlikely chance, Grace Gurton had suggested it first, it would mean she was “drawing a line.” Women typically used friendship as a shield when they weren’t interested. Reflecting on his own painful past, Sebastian recalled it was always like that.

On the other hand, if Richard Spencer had suggested it first, it would mean something entirely different. As mentioned before, it would mean he either had ulterior motives or was an oblivious fool.

“I did,” Richard answered, brimming with satisfaction like a child boasting about a new toy.

Sebastian, bowing his head deeply, accepted the truth as if hearing it from the solemn Mouth of Truth.

‘Richard Spencer is a foolish man harboring ulterior motives toward Grace Gurton.’

“Young Master.”

A mustard seed, long forgotten by Sebastian himself, sprouted somewhere in the barren land. He had mistaken it for dust and discarded it without care, only to find it had indeed been a mustard seed all along.

Richard Spencer is a rugby player. In rugby, players score by either carrying the ball and making a try, or kicking it between the posts. A try is worth five points. Kicking the ball through the posts earns two or three points, depending on the situation. And, of course, a missed kick scores zero.

If Richard Spencer acknowledged his love, embraced it wholeheartedly, and dashed forward to make a try, it would be five points—the ideal love story.

If Richard couldn’t fully embrace his feelings but managed to recognize them and kick the ball between the posts, it would be worth two or three points. It would be a failed love, but even unfulfilled love deserves its own score as it turns into a cherished memory someday.

If Richard denied his love and missed the kick, it would be zero points. This was the current state of Richard Spencer, the foolish man harboring ulterior motives.

At this point, Sebastian had to decide on a course. Would he pass the ball backward or let Richard bungle it?

“Miss Gurton is in the library.”

He chose to pass.