Grace in Wonderland - Chapter 49

49. The Turning Point

“Miss Gurton!”

The King of Bath, Edmund Beaufort, pushed through the crowd to stand in front of Grace. His eyes sparkled the moment he spotted her standing alone by the window of the crowded Assembly Room. It was his innate ability to spot a gem even amidst a gravel field.

“Why are you by yourself?”

His eyes widened as he surveyed Grace’s surroundings. With an awkward expression, Grace opened her mouth to answer.

“I, I had company, but…”

“But?”

“He had an urgent matter and stepped away for a moment.”

Theresius Wilford had left the Assembly Room less than an hour after arriving with Grace. The sound of clinking glasses, music reverberating through the hall, and the chatter and laughter of dancers masked the conversation between Theresius and his servant. All Grace could see was Theresius’ expression hardening as the servant whispered into his ear.

The man, who always carried a carefree smile, now had veins bulging on his temple after hearing the news delivered by his breathless servant.

“Something urgent came up. I need to visit the villa but will return shortly.”

His gaze was as cold as ice as he said this. Grace couldn’t bring herself to show any disappointment.

To be honest, she didn’t feel particularly disappointed. Theresius Wilford was a good person, but being good didn’t necessarily mean he was comfortable to be around. The clarity of his intentions regarding their meeting added to the discomfort.

“What kind of fool leaves such a lovely lady behind at a ball?”

Edmund grinned as he asked. Then, as if answering his own question, he said, “Theresius Wilford, that fool.”

Grace smiled faintly at his remark, causing Edmund’s eyes to widen even more.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you smile.”

Jade is a modest gemstone. Unlike diamonds, it doesn’t require countless facets or intense polishing to shine brilliantly. Its soft, smooth light comes naturally with just a rounded surface.

As Ingrint’s finest connoisseur of jade, Edmund was reminded of a pale green bird-shaped ornament he had once seen auctioned for an exorbitant price years ago on a distant continent. The ornament was intricately carved from jade.

At the start of the auction, Edmund had enthusiastically raised his paddle. But as the bidding escalated and competition grew fierce, he quietly bowed out. The one who drove up the bids and fueled the frenzy was none other than Richard Spencer.

Richard’s aggressive bidding ignited envy in the other attendees, who found themselves competing for the item out of sheer desire. Eventually, the insignificant trinket sold for the same price as a masterpiece by a Renaissance painter.

After much back-and-forth, the bird found its way into the Spencer family’s collection. Naturally, the victor was Richard Spencer.

Richard Spencer had no interest in collecting items, but he possessed a stubborn determination to acquire anything that caught his eye. Before leaving for Grentabridge, Richard attended a Beaufort auction in Lydon. Among the many items, it was the unimpressive bird-shaped jade ornament that captivated him.

He often gravitated toward such peculiar things, much like his penchant for dry scones and thorny bushes.

Edmund’s mood soured as he recalled Richard signing the document for the exorbitant purchase. However, upon seeing the “bluebird” before him, his spirits lifted once more.

For a brief moment, the image of Mary Montague glaring at him flashed before him. But she wasn’t here. In this grand ballroom, if Edmund diligently accompanied the soon-to-be adopted daughter Theresius had left behind, he might even receive Mary’s thanks.

He had to embrace the abandoned bird with a warm heart. Smiling like a bear, he extended his hand.

“Miss Gurton, how about a walk in the garden?”

***

Grace Gurton and Eleanor d’Estrée were like water and oil—impossible to mix. Their nationalities, social statuses, appearances, and preferences had not a single point of intersection.

However, there are cases when water and oil do mix—when soap is added.

Between the vastly different lives of these two women, adding soap created a shared point where they blurred into a common hue. In this case, the soap was the soft, frothy nature of “love.”

Grace and Eleanor both loved shadows. One loved the shadow of Richard Spencer cast on the cave wall, while the other adored the shadow of Lancelot Spencer etched over his portrait.

Around the same time, they both moved closer to the reality behind those shadows. Their turning points began there.

Grace had stumbled out of the cave and into the world of ideas, sharing an inexplicable emotion disguised as friendship with her idea. Meanwhile, Eleanor had crossed the sea to Ingrint, spending passionate moments with the knight with honey-colored eyes.

When they attended the ball at the Assembly Room, it was not with the men they desired. Grace’s companion and Eleanor’s escort were, as society dictated, Theresius and Richard, the men designated as their respective husbands.

There was yet another similarity: their partners, Theresius and Richard, were not by their sides. Theresius had left the ballroom with a grave expression, while Richard, after dancing the first with Eleanor, had wandered off to play poker with the gentlemen, his boredom unhidden.

Thus, Grace and Eleanor found themselves standing in a corner of the garden with men who were not their escorts. This was the final shared element of their intersection.

Where there is an intersection, there is also a difference. While Edmund’s wit brought continuous smiles to Grace’s face, Eleanor and Lancelot stood beneath a mulberry tree not far from where Edmund and Grace had taken their spot.

“Eleanor, how could you do this to me?”

Lancelot couldn’t hide his anger as he berated Eleanor. His entire being was painted with resentment, jealousy, lingering feelings, and possessiveness.

“According to your own words, I belong to your brother,” Eleanor replied, her gaze fixed on the ground rather than meeting his eyes.

“So? Does that mean you’ve decided to stop loving me?”

“Is there any meaning in loving you?”

“But, Eleanor. Just yesterday, we—”

“Lancelot.”

Eleanor interrupted him. Lifting her head slowly, she spoke deliberately, “Is your goal to become my paramour?”

“…What?”

Lancelot’s expression was as though he’d been slapped. He stammered in response.

“You said you didn’t want to marry me.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to—”

“Then I will marry Richard and love you.”

“……”

“In Gallia, many love their husbands’ brothers. If that’s what you want, I will do it.”

“This is not Gallia; this is Ingrint.”

“Then there’s nothing to be done.”

“What do you mean?”

“I suppose this is as far as we go.”

Eleanor’s mournful voice declared their farewell. Tears glimmered in Lancelot’s amber eyes.

There’s nothing people love more than watching other people’s misfortunes and love quarrels. The charm of a love quarrel lies in the contrast: while it is a grave matter for those involved, to onlookers, it is hilariously absurd.

At some point, Edmund, who had been silently listening to their argument, was on the verge of stuffing his fist into his mouth to suppress his laughter.

Meanwhile, Grace found herself stuck, lamenting her predicament. Staying meant she would be eavesdropping, but leaving might disturb Eleanor and Lancelot. Moreover, their conversation was far too private for others to hear.

What no one noticed was that Richard Spencer, the victim and perpetrator of this love quarrel, was nearby.

Returning to the ballroom after a dull game, Richard had seen Edmund Beaufort escorting Grace outside. His vibrant green eyes dulled as if clouded.

Where is Theresius, and why is Edmund hunting Grace? Richard Spencer’s friend was truly someone who required constant attention. With the lion’s courage to face a bear, he followed after them. And now, he had stumbled upon this ludicrous scene.

“Don’t hold me back.”

Eleanor turned away pitifully. She fully believed that before she took more than a few steps, Lancelot would chase after her and shower her with kisses.

As expected, a firm hand grabbed her sleeve. Unable to suppress her emerging smile, Eleanor closed her eyes softly.

Time passed, but nothing happened. Eleanor opened her eyes and looked at the person standing before her. The moment she saw the color of his eyes, her fan slipped from her hand.