Grace in Wonderland - Chapter 83

83. The Broken Seesaw

“Who was that man, Miss Gurton?”

Richard Spencer’s gaze followed the retreating back of the man who ran away past the Montague estate’s wall.

“……”

Grace did not answer. No, she could not answer. Even though Viscount Lovelace had sought her out with impure motives, he was still her uncle. She could not say that he had come to borrow money or that he had acted coercively toward her. To admit that would bring shame to her mother’s family.

“I asked you who that man was.”

Just before the carriage reached the Montague’s gates, Richard had scoffed at the sight of a man and woman quarreling nearby. What kind of lunatics would hold hands and stand so closely together right in front of the Montague mansion?

The unfortunate truth was that Richard Spencer wasn’t someone who paid much attention to people’s faces. Any ordinary person would have immediately noticed that the man was middle-aged and bore a resemblance to Grace Gurton. But Richard Spencer saw none of that. He only registered the figure as a “man.”

The other unfortunate truth was that, despite his poor observational skills, Richard’s focus was sharp enough to clearly identify Grace Gurton’s face among the chaos.

Realizing that one of the “lunatics” was Grace, Richard had instantly ordered the carriage to stop. The moment he stepped out, he roared with a lion’s ferocity.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The Viscount, overwhelmed by the thundering voice, abandoned Grace and fled. Even in his retreat, he clutched the items he’d managed to grab.

“I-I can’t tell you.”

Grace hesitated, her voice faltering as she replied. Richard’s frustration boiled over at her evasiveness.

He had intended to apologize and mend their relationship, to erase the expanding patterns of misunderstanding and start anew.

She liked me once, didn’t she? How could she meet another man—and in front of the sacred Montague mansion, no less?

Has she grown tired of me? How could that happen?

The Duke of Mantua was right when he sang that a woman’s heart is like a reed swaying in the wind. The lyrics warning men not to trust a woman’s heart were equally correct.

But who was that man? If I am to destroy him, I’ll need to know his name.

What kind of lunatic would behave so brazenly in broad daylight? I haven’t even been that close to Grace Gurton myself.

“I-If you’ve come to see Lord Montague, p-please go inside.”

Richard clenched his jaw so tightly that the once smooth line of his chin bulged. Grace’s urgent voice broke through his stormy thoughts.

“Miss Gurton, you—”

“I-I’ll go inside a little later.”

“Why?”

“I-I’m sorry. N-not right now…”

Grace Gurton, the only person with the power to dismiss Richard Spencer’s words, turned her back and walked away quickly. She headed in the direction where the shameless man had disappeared behind the wall.

How could she do this? Leaving me here to chase after that man? Is this truly happening?

Richard took a step forward without hesitation. His strides were urgent and clumsy, abandoning all pretense of sophistication.

When he turned the corner of the estate wall, he saw Grace Gurton trudging back, her face downcast. She seemed so lost in thought that she didn’t even notice him standing there. Richard’s temper flared again.

“How long has it been since Lady Montague’s passing, and you’re already turning to another man?”

Ah, why must the god of love be a blind child?

Richard Spencer, consumed by jealousy, uttered words as childish and petty as those of a petulant boy.

Richard Spencer doesn’t hold back… If there were spectators beyond the field, they would be groaning and jeering at this disastrous play.

“W-what are you talking about?”

“Is seducing men with an innocent face a hobby of yours?”

Grace slowly blinked. Her long eyelashes cast shadows over her peculiar eyes, momentarily dimming their dual-toned light.

Those eyes, which had always sparkled when looking at Richard—as bright as the crimson sunrise or the purplish-blue of twilight—dimmed as the night overtook them, draining their vitality.

At the same time, all the clear signs of her one-sided affection disappeared one by one. Her flushed cheeks, once puffed like bread in an oven, deflated. Her pale complexion grew even whiter, and her labored breaths halted. Her fingers, which had constantly fidgeted, curled inward like a shell.

Richard clearly saw the woman before him changing. It was a dramatic transformation that caused his heart to plummet instantly.

“Y-Young Earl Spencer.”

Grace, who had been keeping her mouth tightly shut, finally spoke. Richard was desperately trying to collect his heart, which had fallen to the floor.

“I-I hope we won’t meet again from now on.”

The heart he had barely managed to get close to holding rolled away again, tumbling as if bouncing off the ground. His chest pounded heavily.

“What,”

“T-thank you for your kindness during this time.”

“What…”

“I’ll take my leave first.”

The screws in Richard Spencer’s head were falling out one by one. His thoughts and actions froze simultaneously.

While he was in this paralyzed state, the rugby ball flew and struck the back of a forward in Christ Church College’s rugby club before soaring away. Richard had successfully snatched the ball away from Theresius Wilford, only to lose it again.

A rugby ball’s trajectory is unpredictable. It’s a saying that resonates even more with players of lesser skill.

***

The ring was gone.

Mary Montague’s engagement ring. And the token left behind by Annabel Gurton had completely vanished.

Driven by Richard’s lion-like roar, Viscount Lovelace had let go of Grace Gurton’s hand, which he had been clutching tightly. In the process, the ring dangling loosely from Grace’s finger had slipped into the Viscount’s greedy grasp.

Initially, Grace hadn’t even realized the ring was gone. As she massaged her hand, numb from lack of circulation, she suddenly noticed the absence of a familiar sensation she had grown used to over the past month.

It was a precious ring that didn’t quite fit her size, but she had stubbornly worn it as it was. She wanted to keep her mother and Lady Montague close to her, even if only in this way.

Panicked, she had hurriedly followed Viscount Lovelace, but he had disappeared long ago. She scoured the ground, hoping the ring might have fallen somewhere, her eyes darting around for any glint of light.

“How long has it been since Lady Montague’s passing, and you’re already turning to another man?”

And then she heard it—Richard Spencer’s mocking voice, dripping with derision.

Grace wasn’t sure if she wanted to see him or not. She wavered between stepping out of her cave and staying hidden inside.

Still, if… just if she were to “accidentally” see him again, she had resolved to at least express her belated gratitude. It was Richard Spencer who had prevented her engagement to Theresius Wilford and had shown concern for her and the children at the charity school.

She had been ready to forgive his harsh words, no matter how cruel they had been. If he sincerely reached out to her, she thought they could work through even the problems beyond their capabilities. She had quietly wondered if she could ever leave her cave.

If she did, she planned never to return and to face Richard Spencer—lonely, fearful, foolish Richard Spencer—directly.

The notion of Richard being lonely, fearful, and foolish was still difficult for Grace to fully grasp. But through recent events, she had learned one thing for certain.

He was unbearably arrogant and self-centered. He always acted and spoke based solely on his own judgment, completely oblivious to others’ feelings.

Perhaps, in the past, she might have let his verbal attacks slide. Just as she had gritted her teeth and endured his harsh words at the Pump Room.

But now, she no longer wanted to. Lady Montague’s parting words—“Live your life doing what you want, and don’t do what you don’t want to”—lingered in her heart.

That was why, right after the funeral, Grace had expressed her desire to Anthony Montague to withdraw from the adoption process. She wanted to live as a Gurton, doing what she wanted and avoiding what she didn’t. Although Lord Montague’s persuasion had temporarily delayed her decision, her mind was set.

And now she pushed Richard Spencer away. She no longer wanted to get hurt. She didn’t want to endure it.

The losses she had experienced in the past had maintained the balance of the seesaw. But the wounds she had recently endured kept cracking the seesaw’s surface. Meanwhile, Richard, whose screws had fallen out of his head, rose into the air, buoyed by the weight of his detached parts.

At that moment, the cracks in the seesaw widened, and the side where Grace sat broke off completely. Left suspended in the air, Richard came crashing down to the ground.

Their seesaw game ended in such a hollow manner. Grace finally let go of the test she had hesitated over for so long.