Grace in Wonderland - Chapter 79

79. A Word of Thanks

Lancelot asked, “What was that about? Why did Grace Gurton say that to you?”

“Say what?”

“That no matter how low her status is, no matter how insignificant she is or how much she stutters, you have no right to treat her that way.”

Lancelot knew Grace wasn’t someone to make such remarks lightly. He also knew she wasn’t someone who would demean herself and use it as a weapon.

Thus, that sudden statement carried significant weight. At least to Lancelot Spencer, who was well-versed in reading others’ emotions, it felt that way.

“How should I know? She must have thought that herself.”

But Richard Spencer, who had never tried to read others’ emotions—let alone become skilled at it—failed to grasp any connection between Grace’s words and himself. He had only been momentarily perplexed when he heard it and assigned no further meaning to it.

“Richard, I don’t think that’s the case.”

There was a definite link between what Grace Gurton said and Richard Spencer’s actions. Whether intentional or not, it was clear Richard had made a mistake that led her to think that way.

It’s better if he realizes his mistake on his own.

Lancelot almost explained further but then closed his mouth with a mischievous smile. He suddenly remembered the “revenge for Eleanor’s insult at the Pump Room.”

He also knew Grace liked Richard. Lancelot was perceptive, but with her, no perception was needed.

The swelling cheeks, the sparkling eyes that resembled sunlight on a clear sky, the blush of peonies on her cheeks, the slightly hurried breaths, the restless fingers…

These were changes she only displayed in front of Richard. It was impossible not to notice.

The message Lancelot left for Grace via note when he dashed after Eleanor from the Bath villa had been genuine, and that sincerity still held. He was determined to express his gratitude somehow.

So, perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea to bring Richard and Grace together, given they liked each other. Though watching his brother in love gave him a slightly uncomfortable feeling.

Thus, Lancelot decided to meddle in a way he hadn’t tried before. Even if it meant burdening himself with the task of dealing with his brother’s stubbornness.

“Richard, apologize.”

“Apologize? To whom? For what? Why?”

Does he truly not know to whom, for what, and why he should apologize? Lancelot sighed.

Richard Spencer was a multifaceted individual. Selfish as if the world revolved around him, yet at times soft-hearted. He acted as though he’d never give his heart to anyone, only to suddenly melt. While maintaining the image of a noble among nobles, he’d find himself captivated by small, humble things.

As the Young Earl of Spencer, he exhibited impeccable judgment and precise planning. But in matters like this, he was utterly clueless. His sharp intellect and planning abilities failed him completely, leaving him a fool blinded by emotions.

“To Miss Grace Gurton. For speaking rudely to her. Because it’s what a gentleman should do.”

Must I teach him even this?

Lancelot found himself newly respecting Richard’s childhood tutor, Sebastian. He also remembered his own tutor, Dylan, who had been blessed with a clever student. The twins shared more than just their looks.

“I have no intention of apologizing.”

Richard cut off Lancelot’s words. Under no circumstances would he apologize lightly. That was his principle.

In Richard Spencer’s shallow reasoning, the only mistake he had made was trusting Grace Gurton too much. It wasn’t the lack of confession over the past ten years that was the problem.

If she had confessed the truth. If she had done that, such misfortune wouldn’t have befallen him. At the very least, it could have been delayed.

If only he had heard the truth. He could have confined Lady Montague to her bedroom and summoned the most skilled doctor in Ingrint—no, the entire continent—to try to alleviate her condition.

Even if that, too, became impossible, they could have spent more time together.

“Lancelot Spencer, shouldn’t I be the one receiving an apology, not giving one?”

“What?”

“Grace Gurton betrayed my trust.”

“She said there were circumstances. By that logic, Lady Montague and Lord Montague also betrayed you.”

“I was going to marry her!”

The sudden confession left Lancelot stunned. Was it really to that extent? Then again, Richard Spencer liking a woman was, in itself, almost an inevitable conclusion.

Only then did Lancelot truly see the state Richard was in. Richard Spencer was someone who didn’t know how to feel or express emotions properly, essentially stuck in the stormy turbulence of a “second-year public school student.”

To be honest, Lancelot himself hadn’t been out of that phase for long. But at least he was better off than Richard Spencer, thanks entirely to Eleanor d’Estrée. Grace Gurton had also played a part in his growth and development.

“Richard.”

Though born eight minutes later, Lancelot Spencer, who had matured about eight months earlier emotionally, called out his brother’s name like the son of God spreading the gospel. He was determined to enlighten his narrow-minded and immature twin.

“There’s a difference between expressing emotions and dumping them.”

“I’ve never done that.”

“You dumped them on the innocent Grace Gurton.”

“Lancelot, leave this room immediately.”

Richard issued the command as if there was nothing more to hear. Even in the dim candlelight, his glare flashed sharply at Lancelot.

“I didn’t take responsibility, but you passed the responsibility onto someone else.”

Unbothered by the command, Lancelot persisted.

“And now I’ve taken responsibility. You should reclaim the responsibility you pushed onto someone else. Grace Gurton wasn’t wrong about anything.”

“……”

“Think about it. No matter how much Grace Gurton was about to become an adopted daughter, Aunt cherished Richard Spencer too much to confide in Grace alone while keeping you in the dark. If she didn’t tell you, it’s because she didn’t have a choice.”

“……”

“Grace probably sensed Aunt’s condition first. Maybe she’s perceptive, or maybe it’s because they spent so much time together. That’s why Aunt eventually had to confide in her. But she must have begged her to keep it a secret.”

“……”

“And after that, it’s obvious. Even Lord Montague couldn’t defy Aunt’s wishes. What could Grace Gurton have done?”

“……”

“You might feel hurt, but getting angry is inappropriate. And blaming everything solely on Grace Gurton is excessive.”

“……”

Richard Spencer’s jaw tightened. Emotions that words couldn’t convey pressed down hard on the shadowed line of his jaw, just out of the candlelight’s reach.

He spoke again, his voice noticeably weaker.

“Just go.”

In the end, he always comes to this.

While overwhelmed by the immediate crisis, Richard Spencer might not have seen it, but soon enough, he’d start picking up the pieces of his actions and apologizing to Grace Gurton. Just as Lancelot himself had shed tears of blood under the mulberry tree, begging Eleanor for forgiveness.

Lancelot clicked his tongue softly so Richard wouldn’t hear. Regardless, he fulfilled his promise of thanks to Grace Gurton, a written acknowledgment of the gratitude he owed her for teaching him responsibility.

“I’ll leave first. You can stay with Aunt longer. We all disgraced ourselves in front of the deceased. Apologize to her on my behalf.”

With that, Lancelot pressed his forehead to the back of Mary Montague’s hand and then withdrew. After glancing at Richard’s expression, he quietly closed the door and left. Richard’s face, drained of strength, showed no discernible emotion.

Richard Spencer remained alone with his mother, who lay peacefully. His mind was a tangled mess, and his heart ached through the long, unending night.

“T-there were circumstances. E-everything might have hidden stories behind it.”

“Why… why are you treating me so cruelly? Y-you know I’m not the one you’re truly angry at.”

“Y-you’re angry at yourself!”

“Richard, apologize.”

“To Miss Grace Gurton. For speaking rudely to her. Because it’s what a gentleman should do.”

Through the night, the voices of Grace and Lancelot echoed in Richard Spencer’s ears like a chant. When the reddish light of dawn streamed through the window and illuminated him, Richard let out a bitter sigh.

They were right. Emotional dumping, shifting responsibility—these were the charges against Richard Spencer.