Grace in Wonderland - Chapter 66

66. The Fox Hunt

“Young Master, about the charity fund you mentioned before.”

Sebastian debated whether to bring this up to Richard, who was enjoying a rare leisurely morning, sipping tea and reading the newspaper. Should he wait until the evening instead?

However, with Grace Gurton and Theresius Wilford’s engagement just two days away, it seemed best to report what he had uncovered as soon as possible.

“Looks like he helped himself to a sizable share, doesn’t it?”

Richard folded the newspaper and tossed it onto the tea table, speaking calmly.

That bastard. I knew it. Considering how much money he received, the poorhouse’s dismal state says it all.

At the very least, he should’ve bought proper candles. Grace Gurton, his soon-to-be fiancée, had been coughing because of the smoke.

Not to mention, he should’ve replaced the chalkboard and chalk. Grace Gurton had to go through all that trouble wiping down the cloudy chalkboard.

And shouldn’t he have repaired the cracked walls? What if Grace Gurton caught a cold from the draft seeping through?

“Well, it seems he did allocate the funds,” Sebastian replied after taking a deep breath.

Richard furrowed his right brow and asked again, “He did? It certainly didn’t look that way.”

“I obtained the disbursement records… It’s probably better if you read them yourself.”

He’s going to blow up after reading this…

Sebastian felt sure Richard would declare he’d destroy the Wilford family at any cost, using every resource the Spencer family possessed. The matter was explosive enough to warrant such a reaction, and Richard Spencer wasn’t one to hold back.

“……”

Richard took the documents and flipped through them briskly. His eyes lit up when he reached a specific section on the third page. Without a word, he let the stack of papers fall to the floor with a thud.

“Young Master, what are you going to do?”

Sebastian picked up the documents, cautiously observing Richard’s expression. The Young Earl remained silent, his lips tightly sealed.

The fresh green hue of Richard’s eyes had darkened ominously. Watching him, Sebastian felt as if he’d been thrown naked into a dense, shadowy forest, cold dread wrapping around him.

It had been a while since he’d felt this kind of pressure. Richard Spencer losing his temper or throwing a fit was less intimidating; it was when he grew cold and calculating that Sebastian knew he’d have more cleanup to do.

This calm was like the high-pressure stillness before a storm.

“Did Theresius Wilford act alone, or was his father involved?”

“I can’t say for certain, but it’s highly likely that the Baron Wilford is unaware. The money only flowed to this one place.”

“I didn’t realize he was this bold. My opinion of him has changed.”

Richard let out a dry laugh.

The amount Theresius Wilford embezzled from the charity fund wasn’t the issue. The money donated by families like the Spencers and Montagues wasn’t significant by his standards.

Sure, if pooled together, it might be enough to buy a modest house in a middle-class neighborhood in Lydon. But to Richard Spencer, it was worth less than the bird-shaped jade ornament he had purchased at an auction years ago.

Demanding an accounting of the charity funds from someone as insignificant as Wilford would only tarnish the reputation of a great noble like Spencer. Under normal circumstances, he’d have overlooked it and exacted revenge through subtler means later on.

But this time…

“I’ve already sent someone to Grentabridge with the documents. For surveillance purposes.”

“Good. That’s the right move. We can’t have him denying it later.”

“Are you going to the Montague mansion today? Shall I inform them?”

“No.”

“No? Why not?”

Sebastian had fully expected Richard to storm off to Chelsea and expose everything immediately. Wasn’t that the logical next step?

“Sebastian, what do you know about the Seymour family?”

“The Seymours? I only know of one family by that name. Should I look into them further?”

“Does the Seymour family you know have a daughter? One with a shrill voice and a nasty personality?”

“A shrill voice and a nasty personality? How am I supposed to identify her with that description alone? If you could provide her age or appearance…”

“You know I’m terrible at remembering faces.”

You mean you don’t bother to remember them.

“Ah, she’s the woman who visited Bath a month or two ago. That should narrow things down.”

“…I’ll do my best.”

Sebastian suppressed the urge to retort, How could that possibly make it easy? Now was not the time to provoke the Lion King.

“But why are you interested in the Seymour family, Young Master?”

“Because I have a hunch. Send a shopkeeper to her with a few valuable gifts, staging it as a gesture from an anonymous gentleman.”

What?

“Do you like her, Young Master?”

Sebastian’s jaw dropped. Just recently, Richard had been trailing Grace Gurton incessantly, and now he was suddenly interested in someone from the Seymour family? And gifts?

Was the most eligible bachelor in Ingrint finally making a choice? Had he decided in the middle of his discussion about Theresius Wilford? What a sudden change of direction!

“What are you talking about, Sebastian?”

Richard frowned deeply at Sebastian’s words before continuing, “Have the shopkeeper subtly probe her about her connection to Theresius Wilford. Also, find out what happened in Bath. Make sure they’re discreet and don’t make it obvious they’re investigating.”

“Do they know each other?”

“It seems likely.”

Richard silently commended himself for remembering the name of the woman who mocked Grace at the Pump Room.

Yes, expecting so much and then being so disappointed after just one dance at a ball was unusual. There had to be more to the story. Likely, it was something she couldn’t openly talk about as a lady.

In hindsight, Edmund Beaufort seemed more gentlemanly. He openly flirted with town girls, so there were no hidden consequences. Theresius Wilford, on the other hand, was proving to be far craftier. Who would’ve thought he’d engage in such schemes, all while avoiding scrutiny?

Lady Montague had mentioned sending someone to Grentabridge to inquire about Wilford. Predictably, they only learned about his polished reputation within the college and his pleasant demeanor. That’s what happens when you rely solely on public opinions.

Gathering intel isn’t about hearsay. The key lies elsewhere—like examining bank transactions or asset holdings. Delving into unofficial financial flows reveals even more. For ultimate thoroughness, one could even collect and inspect all the trash leaving the Wilford estate. While he hadn’t committed treason, this option was always on the table.

“In any case, how fortunate it is for Miss Gurton to know this in advance, Master.”

In two days, Grace Gurton was to be engaged, and an engagement was essentially a legally binding contract. Breaking it would require going through lengthy negotiations, giving and taking, and dividing responsibilities—a tedious and messy process.

Even if Theresius Wilford provided grounds for annulment, if he denied them, there would be no recourse. Bachelor men having dalliances was hardly scandalous, and even if a few illegitimate children surfaced, they’d argue it wasn’t their responsibility.

Breaking off an engagement was better than a divorce, but a clean separation was ideal. Who knows? Perhaps with Theresius Wilford out of the picture, Richard Spencer might find himself next to Grace Gurton…

What man would bother sneaking glances at a woman he didn’t care for? Especially someone like Richard Spencer, who despised filth, yet willingly followed her into slums that made him retch and even sent extravagant gifts under the guise of charity.

Spending money was one thing. Spending both time and money, however, was a clear sign of interest. And to go further and exert effort… that was love.

Though it seemed he hadn’t realized it yet, considering his lifetime of rigid values, such an epiphany wouldn’t come easily.

Even so, just as he had unexpectedly departed for Grentabridge, uncharacteristic actions could very well lead to surprising outcomes. If that happened, Sebastian thought he’d ask the chef to pop some corn kernels.

“It’s not for Grace Gurton, but for my aunt.”

…Sure, let’s go with that.

If only Richard handled his romantic endeavors as efficiently as his other tasks. Yet, his missteps and foolishness continued unabated.

“Understood.”

Sebastian let out a small chuckle as he left for the finest general store in Lydon. It was time to hunt down Wilford’s sly fox.