If You're Going to Sell Yourself, Sell It to Me - Chapter 101

‘It feels like something’s going on…’

Peering out the window, Raymond watched Leona and his brother bicker in the lobby over the luggage, his expression turning serious.

The dozens of dresses being unloaded from the carriage were clearly Leona’s, and while he didn’t know the intent, the one who had paid for them appeared to be his brother, Locke.

Considering Leona’s character—someone extremely cautious about receiving help from others—it was highly likely Locke had forced those gifts on her. But Raymond couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.

Did Locke have feelings for her?

The way Locke had fled, grinning wide enough to show his teeth, was so unlike him that it felt uncanny.

Then again, Locke had, uncharacteristically, spaced out more than once when looking at Leona.

At first, Raymond hadn’t thought much of it. He had seen people look at Leona that way countless times. But more and more, there was something subtly different about it from usual.

Ever since the day Locke, who hadn’t gone near a theater since their parents’ deaths, came back from a play, Raymond had started to suspect something was going on between them.

Moreover, Leona’s obvious attempts to maintain distance made him wonder if perhaps she was the one affected.

She had always been kind yet kept her distance from others, and yet, she acted particularly cold toward Locke. It bothered Raymond. It made their relationship seem… different.

Raymond couldn’t help but feel a surge of jealousy toward Locke, who could draw out such a range of expressions from Leona.

Locke had always been good at everything.

From the day Raymond was born, Locke had already been a complete person.

Even as a man, Raymond couldn’t deny his brother was impressive.

It wasn’t just his looks—it was his unwavering composure, sharp intellect, and even his deep affection for his family.

The only flaw had been his total lack of interest in romance until now.

If the reason he hadn’t pursued relationships before was because he had focused on achieving independence, and now that he had left the army, those goals had been fulfilled—then it was possible that he could open up to love.

And the thought that this possibility might point toward Leona filled Raymond with dread.

He had never seen Locke fail to get what he wanted.

Still…

‘I’ve spent more time with her. I know more about Leona than anyone else.’

Raymond was confident he knew more about her than anyone in the mansion. Even though he still didn’t know her real name, she had promised he’d be the first she told.

Nothing had started yet. He couldn’t just give up and act like he had already lost based on vibes alone.

Clenching his fists, Raymond recalled the invitation he had received recently.

Clara Lodge.

The only daughter of Max Lodge, a fellow tobacco merchant—Clara had started showing interest in him after Veronica’s death.

At first, he hadn’t been able to turn her away, as she used Angela as an excuse to visit. But as her intentions to see him alone grew clearer, he had begun refusing her visits under various pretexts.

He had arranged to meet Mr. Lodge in town recently for that reason.

He had a hunch that Clara would show up, and he didn’t want her to meet Leona, so he had purposely suggested meeting outside.

Was it just intuition? Or was it jealousy?

“Who is that woman?”

‘Ah, so that’s Angela’s tutor I’ve heard so much about.”

“She looks quite young. How old did you say she was?”

She had asked about Leona multiple times after they passed her in the restaurant.

As the business talk came to an end that day, Clara handed him a party invitation, though Raymond had barely paid attention—his thoughts were focused entirely on the two people sitting at another table.

Having nodded absentmindedly at Clara, he was now expected to attend the ball taking place the very next day.

A ball, in the midst of this chaos.

The intention to show they were still going strong was transparent, but the timing couldn’t have been worse. Especially given the plantation hosting it held a much larger number of slaves than most.

He had planned to decline with an excuse, but then, Leona came to mind.

If he attended with her, they could share some time alone during the trip, and he could use the opportunity to keep others trying to get close to him at bay.

Of course, the former was the bigger reason.

Raymond carefully tucked the invitation inside his coat.

***

“You want me to go there with you?”

Georgiana’s eyes widened as she looked at the invitation Raymond handed her.

Back in the Empire, no one had ever wanted to invite the daughter of a penniless baron, so the only ball she had ever attended was Mayfield Hall’s boat party.

That one, luckily, had no designated host, and everyone enjoyed the event as equal guests. This, however, was the first time she had been invited to a specific person’s party.

“I don’t even know how to dance. And I’m not even a noble anymore—it feels inappropriate to attend something like that.”

Georgiana shook her head and declined Raymond’s offer.

She felt guilty, as it seemed she was repeatedly refusing his invitations—first the play, and now this. But for her, there was no reason to attend a stranger’s party.

The attention from others would be overwhelming, and she had never learned the etiquette for such gatherings. More than anything, she worried she might cause trouble for Raymond.

But—

“It’s a partner-only event, so I’m asking for your help. Showing up alone would draw attention.”

As Raymond said this casually, Georgiana bit her lip.

Come to think of it, this was the first time he had made a personal request of her.

The time he had asked what she’d like to see was simply a favor for her sake—this time, he was asking something for himself.

Even so…

Sipping warm tea, she tried to imagine herself attending a ball with Raymond’s hand in hers—but she simply couldn’t.

It felt strange.

Locke suddenly came to mind.

She recalled the night of the fireworks—their memory vividly replayed in her mind.

Though she resented him, the fragments of memory that occasionally resurfaced were, oddly, mostly happy ones.

So, even though she had promised to be cold to him, it hadn’t been easy.

She hadn’t even returned the clothes in her closet.

Lately, she had been unable to focus on her work, caught in a vague sense of restlessness.

‘Maybe I should go to clear my head? I can’t really refuse Raymond’s request either.’

“I don’t have to dance, right?”

Her question, which practically meant she was agreeing, made Raymond smile brightly as he nodded.

“I’ll prepare something for you to wear tomorrow.”

“No need. I already have something to wear.”

Too much, in fact…

The wardrobe was overflowing—she could attend a ball every day for a month and still have outfits left.

She kept telling herself she needed to return them, or resell them, but Locke remained silent. Whenever she tried to bring it up, he escaped the moment he sensed where the conversation was headed—it was infuriating.

“Still, you’re coming because I asked. I really want to give you this gift.”

Unexpectedly, Raymond was firm.

“There’s no need…”

“It’s the only way I can feel less guilty for asking you such a big favor.”

For someone like him, who wasn’t used to asking for things, giving a gift was a way to ease the discomfort.

With that reasoning, Georgiana found it difficult to refuse.

“Just this once—I won’t accept gifts like that again. It’ll only make it harder for me to agree next time.”

She stressed the condition again and again.

That afternoon, Raymond returned from town and placed a large dress box on her bed.

[This isn’t enough to repay how much you’ve helped me, but I hope you like it.]

When she came back to her room after finishing work, she read the note Raymond had left and untied the ribbon on the box.

The pink ribbon bore the logo of a shop known as a rival to the boutique she had visited with Locke.

As she opened the lid, Georgiana’s mouth fell open.

The dress was white and airy, the neckline modestly low, and the entire garment was wrapped in hand-woven lace. From the sleeves to the hem, there wasn’t a single part untouched by lace.

And not just any lace—it was tightly woven in wave patterns, over which gold thread embroidery had been added.

In other words, the amount of labor alone made it incredibly expensive.

The buttons down the front were all large pearls.

It was likely worth more than a full year of her salary.

A gift like this—just to attend a party together?

Knowing Raymond’s tendency to shower others with gifts, she should have insisted more firmly.

She had hoped the dress wouldn’t fit—so she could return or exchange it—but before going to town, Raymond had taken one of her outfits with him. Naturally, the fit was perfect.

A tailored dress couldn’t be returned.

As she examined the dress, she also found a small handbag and a pair of shoes hidden beneath it.

Both seemed to be part of the set, with matching lace bows on the leather.

Really, what was it with both brothers?

Looking down at the box with an expression of complete exasperation, she heard a knock at the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, Locke.”