Grace in Wonderland - Chapter 74

74. Cain and Abel

The Spencer estate in Westminster spanned an area almost half the size of the royal palace grounds where the Queen resided. Among the six large and small buildings, the Spencer family primarily used only the main building and the newly constructed annex.

They spent most of their time in the modern annex, but a few times a year, the massive doors of the main building were opened. With the completion of the annex, the main building had transitioned to being used for official purposes. For instance, events like Spencer family meetings or ballroom gatherings during the social season were held in the main building. The imposing structure, bearing the marks of hundreds of years of history, offered visitors from outside a spectacle comparable to a museum.

From early morning, the maids and servants of the Spencer estate bustled in and out of the main building under the Countess Spencer’s orders, preparing for the afternoon’s schedule. Today was the day of the family meeting.

Richard Spencer rose early, as usual, had breakfast, drank tea, and read the newspaper. Unlike the Countess, Freya, and the servants of the estate, who were all on edge, anticipating the outcome of today’s meeting, Richard remained aloof and composed.

Sebastian, however, was restless, pacing back and forth through Richard’s room. Yet, he didn’t dare utter a word to the Young Earl. It was as if Richard had drawn a distinct boundary around himself, separating him from those around him, much like when he gazed down at Cherry Hinton from above.

He had faced attacks before. The Countess’s provocations, heated debates during family meetings, and, finally, Lady Mary Montague’s meticulous handling of crises.

But this time, Lady Montague had unexpectedly declined to attend. Could lingering resentment toward her nephew be the cause? Sebastian tried to shake off the ominous thoughts and remained at Richard’s side. One hour before the meeting was to begin, the two headed to the main building together.

Regardless of the agenda, Richard still represented the head of the family. Thus, he had to greet and welcome those visiting the estate for the meeting.

Richard Spencer stood like a pillar in the quiet hall of the main building. Behind him, a portrait of the Spencer family’s founder, Richard Spencer the Lionheart, took up an entire wall.

With vivid red hair that seemed capable of burning everything around it, piercing green eyes that retained their vitality even amidst the flames, a strong jawline, faint freckles scattered like a god’s playful touch across the bridge of his nose, and a towering, robust physique that could triumph in any battle, the founder’s image was as imposing as his legacy.

If Richard were to be dismantled piece by piece and recreated in the form of a Turkan-style mosaic, it would undoubtedly resemble the portrait of his namesake ancestor. Standing under the watchful gaze of his forebear, the Young Earl maintained his composure, greeting the guests who arrived one by one.

“Young Earl Spencer.”

A voice called out from the bustling side of the hall. As Richard turned toward the sound, Sebastian helpfully informed him that it was the Duke of Charlotte, Eleanor d’Estrée’s father.

“Your Grace.”

Richard greeted the Duke with a composed demeanor. As if the recent exchange of letters—filled with protests and veiled threats—had never occurred, both men smiled and exchanged polite words.

“You should have informed us of your visit to Ingrint in advance. We would have prepared a proper welcome for you.”

“I didn’t wish to trouble you with such a burden.”

“Burden? The Spencer family never neglects proper greetings. Hospitality goes without saying. Of course, the same applies when offering gratitude… or seeking retribution.”

“The principle of Charlotte is to avoid excessive formalities.”

The conversation between the two men continued like a duel, with soft cushions wrapped around daggers as they exchanged blows. Then, as if recalling something, the Duke of Charlotte suddenly pulled the man standing beside him closer by the arm.

“It’s been a while. Why don’t you two exchange greetings?”

The man standing next to the Duke raised his gaze, meeting Richard’s eyes.

“Richard.”

Richard coldly smirked as he looked at the man who had called his name. Lancelot couldn’t hold Richard’s gaze for long.

***

A few minutes can decide so much. And those few minutes can define eternity.

Richard Spencer and Lancelot Spencer were twin brothers born eight minutes apart. In those eight minutes, the date and season changed. Their statuses and futures were determined as well.

Richard Spencer was born on the last day of February, at the tail end of winter. The year of his birth was a leap year, which meant that winter that year lasted a day longer than usual.

Perhaps that was why there always seemed to be a chill blowing over Richard’s head. Occasionally, an icy cold settled over him, chilling him to the bone. A child born in winter, living through winter, had to close all the doors tightly to keep the cold at bay.

Lancelot Spencer was born on the first day of March, holding the outstretched hand of spring. The endless winter that had lingered for a day longer than usual finally departed, and the eagerly awaited season of renewal began.

Perhaps that was why the sun always shone brightly over Lancelot’s head. Occasionally, the heat was so intense it felt like it could peel his skin. A child born in spring, living through spring, waited eagerly for the doors to open and let in a single ray of light.

By an eight-minute twist of fate, Richard Spencer became the eldest son of a great noble family. His future was destined to inherit the Spencer earldom, “older than the royal family and protectors by the king’s side.”

By the same eight-minute twist of fate, Lancelot Spencer became the second son of a great noble family. He would not inherit the earldom, but he was destined to be “more loved and more precious” than his elder brother.

The twins’ mother, Elaine, was of the Stuart royal lineage. As a princess, she was engaged to James Spencer, the Young Earl of Spencer, one of the most eligible bachelors in Ingrint, and they soon had a grand wedding.

As an Earl and a husband, James Spencer neglected all his duties. Unlike the other Spencers, who were often arrogant but overflowing with a sense of responsibility, James was utterly different.

The Earl abandoned his family, choosing instead to reside with an opera singer at the manor house in Wormleighton, where he had been frequenting even before his marriage. The only times he reluctantly returned to the Spencer estate in Lydon were when Parliament was in session or for important events, sharing a bed with Elaine only out of obligation.

Even in a barren desert, new life finds a way to be born. Yet, the Countess felt no affection for the children she bore. Their cries didn’t sadden her; their laughter didn’t bring her joy.

Loving, bearing, and raising children was the ideal duty expected of women in this era. Like the biblical figure who bore and raised the son of God as a virgin, being a virtuous mother was considered the most important quality a woman could have.

A mother without maternal love deserved condemnation. For that reason, Elaine Spencer was often criticized.

The Countess’s mental state, already unstable due to her husband’s infidelity, deteriorated further with the exhaustion of childbirth and the constant criticism. The cries of her two baby boys were far quieter than the weeping of their mother that echoed through the Spencer estate.

One night, she stumbled into the twins’ room. She was heavily intoxicated, having drowned her overwhelming despair in alcohol.

The one-year-old boys, sensing the presence of someone reeking of alcohol standing before them, woke instinctively. Though their appearances were identical at a glance, there was one difference between them: the color of their eyes.

One boy had green eyes, a trait of the Spencer family. The other had amber eyes, inherited from the Countess.

Elaine Spencer, without hesitation, picked up the child who resembled her. She ignored the green eyes that mirrored her husband’s. To her, that green wasn’t the lush green of nature but the poisonous Scheele’s green.

Scheele’s green. A color as beautiful as an emerald but laced with arsenic, highly toxic. Painted on wallpaper, it would slowly kill those who lived within the room. To Elaine Spencer, her husband was no different.

She cradled the child with eyes as sweet as honey and fled the room without looking back at the boy she left behind.

In the Bible, Cain and Abel were brothers. Cain, the elder, was a farmer who tilled the land, while Abel, the younger, was a shepherd who tended the flock.

Cain offered the fruits of the earth as a sacrifice to God, while Abel offered the firstborn lambs of his flock and their fat. God accepted Abel and his offering but did not accept Cain or his offering.

The fruits of the earth and the firstborn of the flock—there was nothing wrong with what they offered. Nowhere in the Bible is it recorded why God favored one brother so greatly over the other.

Bright green eyes like clover and golden eyes like honey. There was nothing wrong with what they had.

A few minutes can decide so much. And those few minutes can define eternity.

On the night Elaine Spencer visited their room, a few minutes decided the futures of the two boys. And the reason for it was recorded nowhere.