Grace in Wonderland - Chapter 89

89. One Grand Gesture

On the outskirts of Grentabridge, there stood a modest house. The building was constructed hastily on the orders of Richard Spencer, one of Ingrint’s great aristocrats, with his admission to college in mind.

Of course, “modest” was a term relative to Richard’s perspective. In reality, the four-story structure was about seventy percent the size of the combined main and annex buildings of the Earl Spencer’s residence in Westminster.

For three years, this expansive house housed only Richard Spencer, his attendant Sebastian, and three quiet maids. For these three people, the Young Earl had ordered the construction of a four-story residence.

Originally, the house was meant to be vacated as soon as Richard graduated from college. However, the term had ended, and he had gone straight up to Lydon at Lady Montague’s summons, leaving the property unsold.

As for Becky, the quiet maid, it wasn’t that she had always been quiet. Rather, after living in the vast house with the imperious Young Earl and his attendant, she naturally grew silent.

The only times she dared open her mouth were to say three phrases: “Your meal is ready,” “Have a safe trip,” and “Welcome back.” For three years, Becky lived in this manner, wishing for one thing—for the Young Earl to graduate quickly and return to Lydon.

Life at Spencer Mansion was incomparable to this place, thanks to the hygiene-obsessed Countess. Cleaning, scrubbing, and disinfecting were daily tasks, and inspections of attire took place three times a day—morning, noon, and evening.

Despite the grueling demands at Spencer Mansion, Becky wanted nothing more than to leave Grentabridge. She feared she might forget her native Ingrintian tongue and felt suffocated by loneliness.

Unlike certain noblemen who required their maids to warm their beds, there were no such dreams to entertain here. Being the son of the Countess, the Young Earl was excessively fastidious.

Thus, Becky waited impatiently for news from Lydon after Richard and his attendant left. Finally, today, a messenger from the Spencer mansion arrived.

The moment she heard someone outside, Becky dropped the feather duster she had been using to clean the drawing room furniture and ran out. A glimmer of hope, like dust rising in the air, lifted her spirits. Could she finally leave this accursed, ghostly house?

Breathlessly awaiting instructions, Becky was greeted by an elderly butler d from Lydon.

“The Young Earl will return here tomorrow. He plans to stay for a while, so make all necessary preparations.”

***

While Becky shed tears and clutched her duster in despair at that distant house, Sebastian’s jaw dropped in Lydon. Richard Spencer had abruptly declared his intention to go to Grentabridge.

“When will you leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

Now that the Countess was no longer present, was the Young Earl losing his discipline? Why should he head to Grentabridge after graduating, especially since he hadn’t even attended his graduation ceremony?

Moreover, it was now the autumn social season. Declining all the invitations flooding the Spencer mansion was a significant breach of etiquette. At the very least, attending the music recital hosted by the Marchioness of Winchester or the masquerade ball at the Duke of Devonshire’s estate was expected.

The Young Earl had already announced that the Spencer mansion would not open its main hall for this year’s social season, implying there would be no grand ball.

Freya Spencer was disappointed but reluctantly agreed. It had only been a short while since the scandal that captivated society occurred, and most of those who attended the family meeting had been staying out of the public eye.

“Why didn’t you mention this earlier?”

“I decided last night.”

Such decisiveness.

Sebastian, who had observed Richard Spencer closely, could attest that the Young Earl’s decisiveness was unparalleled. The problem was that the results of his decisions were often disastrous.

This was because he acted without considering the feelings of others, always charging forward like a rugby player.

“What about your responsibilities?”

“The session has ended, and Lancelot is handling the negotiations with the Duke of Charlotte.”

Indeed, the parliamentary session had ended just yesterday. The Poor Law, which had caused such turmoil in the assembly, had turned into a patchwork law after considering the interests of all parties involved.

Such outcomes weren’t unusual. Legislation and amendments rarely served the people they were meant to help. Drafted and revised by nobles far removed from the lives of the impoverished, the results were always predictable.

Queen Anne did not react in the slightest upon hearing that her younger sister, the Countess Elaine Spencer, had been exiled to Bath. She had completely severed ties with the Countess following her fall from grace.

Considering how they had recently acted as if they were inseparable sisters, her reaction was quintessentially queen-like. In politics, there are neither eternal enemies nor everlasting friends—this is the ultimate truth.

Meanwhile, Lancelot Spencer was a man who proved to be more pragmatic than he appeared. His conduct at the family meeting shocked Sebastian profoundly. This was because Sebastian had also thought of Lancelot as a fool who couldn’t move an inch without hiding behind the Countess’ skirts. Lancelot’s own behavior had reinforced this impression.

Judging by the occasional updates he sent regarding the negotiations with the Duke of Charlotte, he seemed to be handling matters quite competently. At this rate, it appeared likely he would secure lease rights for at least 100,000 acres, possibly as much as 150,000 acres.

In summary, stability had finally come to Richard Spencer’s life. The Countess was no longer in the mansion, Lancelot had transformed into a reliable ally, and Queen Anne remained quiet.

Had Richard’s life ever been built on such solid and stable ground? Sebastian felt he was finally ready to enjoy the rivers of peace flowing into both his and Richard’s lives.

Yet, perched atop this hard-won rock of stability, Richard Spencer was anything but tranquil. Ever since the day he stole Grace Gurton’s portrait from the Montague mansion, his instability had worsened.

The portrait now hung on the wall of Richard’s bedroom, directly across from his bed, so that it was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes each morning.

Did he even know what the maids were whispering behind his back as they tidied his bedding? Of course not. He’d never cared what others thought of him.

All his life, Richard had been as oblivious to such matters as Lancelot Spencer. And yet, when it came to doing what needed to be done, both twins were equally unscrupulous. Perhaps it was a twin thing—pretending not to care while being utterly devious.

How had Richard managed to hold himself together until the parliamentary session ended? The fact that he had lasted this long was impressive.

If he had suddenly gone mad and taken to riding around in the middle of the session, Queen Anne, ever magnanimous, would not have stood idly by. After all, the lion that was supposed to guard her side would have been missing.

“How long do you plan to stay in Grentabridge? It might be good to attend a few social events.”

“We’ll see when we get there.”

Sebastian couldn’t help but think of how similar Richard was to Earl James Spencer in this regard. The elder Spencer had also become infatuated with an opera singer in his youth and was still deeply in love with her to this day.

People had assumed their affair before marriage was just a fleeting romance, but their love endured. More than twenty years later, the Earl and his lover remained holed up in the Wormleighton Nest, utterly inseparable. James openly referred to her as his “only love.”

Indeed, members of the Spencer family tended to love deeply, even if not necessarily virtuously. Whether their beloved was a spouse or a lover, they focused on just one person. This was true of Earl James Spencer, Lady Mary Montague, and even Richard’s grandfather, great-grandfather, and great-great-grandfather.

Of course, the term “loving deeply” might be a stretch. After all, not all of these great loves were directed at their spouses, as in the case of Earl James. The Ingrintian Church condemned extramarital affairs as adultery.

However, it wasn’t feasible to govern all worldly matters under ecclesiastical law. Especially when it came to the Spencer family, whose massive donations to the Church effectively muted criticism. To condemn the Spencers outright would mean losing a vital source of funding.

With the implicit acknowledgment or silent acceptance of the Church, the Spencers maintained a romantic yet arrogant image of loving only one person. Though honestly, it seemed more like obsession than pure devotion.

The real problem was the trail of victims left in the wake of such obsessions. Richard Spencer’s mother, the Countess, was one such casualty.

The Countess’s misery, in hindsight, could be traced back to the Earl. Born and raised as a princess and married to the most eligible bachelor in Ingrint, her life as a woman was fraught with tragedy.

“This time, please do better, Young Mastre. Think carefully before you speak.”

It seemed Richard Spencer would not escape the legacy of his family’s history. If he failed to marry Grace Gurton, another innocent woman from a noble family could suffer the same fate as the Countess, turning into a monster.

To prevent such a tragic cycle from repeating, Sebastian knew his role was clear. He had to guide Richard in the right direction and provide sound advice.

“I’ll say it again: fewer words, one grand gesture. That’s a true apology.”