Grace in Wonderland - Chapter 85

85. The Visit of Two Men

Edmund Beaufort strode confidently into the Montague mansion in Chelsea, wearing a light silk shirt and a coat embroidered with dazzling gold damask patterns that seemed out of place on his bear-like frame. His purpose was to meet the mysterious woman, Grace Gurton.

He fondly recalled the time he spent in Chelsea, accompanying Madame Le Brun and observing the progress of her portrait work for an entire week. Had he known he wouldn’t see Grace’s face again after that, he would have begged Madame Le Brun to finish the coloring at the Montague mansion.

Edmund had also heard of Theresius Wilford’s engagement to Grace Gurton. Thanks to Theresius boasting about it in the Pump Room at Bath, the news had already reached everyone’s ears, leaving little room for surprise when Edmund heard it.

It seemed like the kind of choice a highly ambitious man like Theresius Wilford would make. While naive people prattled on about how Theresius had lovingly embraced Annabel Gurton’s stuttering daughter, those well-versed in the workings of society could easily discern how calculated his decision had been.

‘A lovely little bluebird caught in a snare,’ Edmund Beaufort thought, pitying the misfortune that had befallen the bluebird.

It was widely known in society that Mary Montague had considered both him and Theresius as potential husbands for Grace Gurton. The only one unaware of this was Edmund himself. Upon learning about it later, he felt like burying his head in the dirt.

If I had known, I would’ve kept my indiscretions better hidden. He regretted that his progressive tendencies hadn’t met Mary Montague’s conservative and traditional standards.

Still, wasn’t it better than leaving room for entanglements and becoming embroiled in unnecessary troubles? No young lady in Grentabridge had ever pointed a finger at or resented him. Edmund took pride in that as one of his greatest accomplishments.

When he heard that the engagement ceremony would be a small family event, he didn’t even dream of receiving an invitation. It seemed as though the bluebird was heading straight into the fox’s den with its wings flapping mournfully.

However, the abrupt announcement of the engagement’s cancellation caused yet another stir in Lydon’s society. As the full-fledged social season had not yet begun, the idle nobility eagerly seized upon this news as a juicy topic of conversation.

The news, announced on the morning of the engagement day, spread rapidly across Lydon. People began whispering, speculating about Grace Gurton’s shortcomings and assuming she was to blame for the situation. Bets were even made, as was customary.

But the subsequent actions of the Wilford family were suspicious. Theresius’s family, who had been staying at their Lydon residence for the engagement ceremony and the upcoming autumn social season, abruptly returned to their estate.

Soon after, shocking rumors surfaced, claiming that Theresius Wilford had embezzled charitable funds—funds provided by none other than the Spencer and Montague families. As the rumors gained traction, detailed evidence began circulating.

The source of the leaked documents remained unidentified. Yet everyone understood. Ruthless retaliation was the Spencer family’s specialty.

Lydon’s social scene was never short of excitement. Just as one event dominated the chatter, another would emerge, and before one scandal was resolved, new rumors would be born. Like echoes resonating within a confined space, whispers ricocheted endlessly from one mouth to another.

Following the cancellation of Theresius Wilford and Grace Gurton’s engagement and the embezzlement scandal, another piece of news captured the gossips’ attention—something related to the Spencer family meeting.

It was said that Richard Spencer had been stripped of his title as Young Earl, that his twin brother, Lancelot Spencer, had renounced himself, and that as a result, Richard had been reinstated immediately afterward.

Edmund Beaufort vividly remembered the night of the ball at the Assembly Room. Witnessing Lancelot Spencer and Eleanor d’Estrée’s lovers’ quarrel, followed by Richard Spencer roaring at his brother like a lion, was like stepping on a landmine while walking peacefully.

He had kept his promise not to breathe a word about the incident. Edmund understood how every family hid stories beneath their polished exteriors, and he knew the shame that could come with such revelations.

Edmund’s discretion was as weighty as his robust physique. It was the first reason the Casanova of Grentabridge had managed to charm so many women.

But even though Edmund kept his mouth shut, the Spencer family’s façade had already been torn, exposing its contents. Despite this, Richard Spencer remained in his position, whether he liked it or not, while Lancelot’s departure silenced the Countess of Spencer, forcing her to leave Lydon.

Following the universal truth that happiness fades and misfortune follows, Edmund Beaufort received the news of Mary Montague’s death. Though her sharp eyes often conveyed unspoken criticism whenever she looked at him, she had been a great star in society.

And just as misfortune departs, fortune sometimes finds its way back. A month of mourning for Mary Montague had passed, and an opportunity presented itself to Edmund Beaufort.

Theresius Wilford had been cast out. The conservative Mary Montague, who had disliked the progressive Edmund Beaufort, was no longer present. While it pricked his conscience to celebrate this openly, he knew this was the only time to approach Grace Gurton.

Of course, he anticipated that a direct visit request would likely be rejected. Thus, Edmund knew he needed a reason so significant that neither Lord Montague nor Grace could refuse him. That reason now rested in Edmund Beaufort’s hands.

When he arrived at the Montague mansion with high hopes, only the butler greeted him. The butler apologized, explaining that Anthony Montague had been urgently summoned by Queen Anne and was unable to personally receive guests.

Edmund discreetly glanced around, trying to catch a glimpse of where Grace Gurton might be. However, the butler gave no information and only prepared to accept the item Edmund had brought.

Thus, the important reason Edmund had carefully prepared for his visit was handed not to Grace Gurton but to the butler.

“Richard Spencer?”

It was then that Richard Spencer, the Young Earl, entered the Montague mansion with his red hair tousled like a lion’s mane.

“…Beaufort, what are you doing here?”

Richard’s eyes swept over Edmund’s flamboyant attire, appraising him from head to toe. The butler, who had been awkwardly reaching for the item Edmund held, straightened and bowed to the Young Earl.

“I came to deliver something for Miss Gurton,” Edmund began but trailed off.

Richard’s expression as he quickly surveyed the interior of the  mansion was puzzlingly anxious—eerily similar to the way Edmund had been glancing around just moments earlier.

Richard wasn’t the type to grow restless even during a match on the pitch. Regardless of competitiveness, as a grand nobleman with an air of refined elegance, he wasn’t someone who would openly rejoice or despair over a game’s outcome.

Thus, he skillfully maintained an attitude that perfectly aligned with the “no side” spirit. While he might indulge in colorful complaints about players from rival clubs when alone with Sebastian, outside the house, he exuded the detached poise of a full-fed lion.

Yet the man standing before Edmund now resembled a rookie player nervously searching for a ball that had flown out of bounds. It was unfamiliar enough to intrigue Edmund, prompting him to step closer and comment casually.

“She doesn’t seem to be home. Perhaps she’s gone to the Royal Library.”

This was another reason Edmund Beaufort effortlessly charmed women despite his burly frame. His keen ability to discern and interpret others’ feelings was unparalleled.

A man wandering around someone else’s residence with such darting eyes clearly wasn’t there to see Anthony Montague. It was obvious whom he sought.

And to think he once claimed she wasn’t his type.

“…Is that so?”

Look at that. Though feigning nonchalance, Richard’s Adam’s apple visibly bobbed once. Forgetting the purpose of his visit, Edmund stepped even closer to Richard Spencer.

The third secret to Edmund Beaufort’s success in romance was this: if a rival emerged, he abandoned the pursuit without hesitation. With half the population being women, there was no need to invite unnecessary strife.

Theresius Wilford, who fancied himself a king in Cornwall, had foolishly ignored the signs of impending disaster. But Edmund, a prudent bear, knew better.

The allure of Grace’s eyes, the subtle artistry of her contemplative silences and lingering expressions—these were difficult to relinquish. Yet if the rival appeared to be none other than the Spencer heir, stepping away became imperative. Otherwise, he might meet the same fate as Theresius Wilford.

Even honey must be chosen carefully. Disturbing a hornet’s nest guarantees ruin.

Just as Edmund prepared to hastily hand the item to the butler and make his escape, Richard’s piercing gaze fell on it.

“Edmund Beaufort, what is that?”