If You're Going to Sell Yourself, Sell It to Me - Chapter 61

“Is this enough?”

Georgiana took the wig she had stored in the container and rinsed it several times with clean water. The dye had set well, and even after patting it with a towel, no more brown color came out. Though it was a pity that the long blonde wig had now become an ordinary brown, she had no choice if she wanted to avoid standing out.

While looking for work yesterday, she had noticed two things: it was difficult to find a job despite the city’s size, and there were no blondes around. Most people had brown or black hair, and occasionally, there were redheads, but she hadn’t seen anyone with bright blonde hair like hers. The same had been true at the inn, but when she had gone out unknowingly, she felt the gazes of others as if they were seeing some exotic creature. Early in the morning, she dyed the wig she had bought last night.

Considering the previous incident, she didn’t want to dye her real hair anymore, so she chose the wig instead—a good decision, as she realized immediately after leaving the inn.

“Extra! Extra! Get your extra for just 5 pence!”

Children selling newspapers filled the streets. Just yesterday, the square had been packed with flower girls and shoeshine boys, but now it was crowded with children selling newspapers.

An extra edition usually covered an emergency event… Because of that, everyone passing by or those seated in the corner of the square, selling their wares, were all reading newspapers.

“One copy, please.”

Georgiana, who knew nothing about the local politics or economy, handed 5 pence to a nearby boy out of curiosity. She noticed that the price was quite low, probably because the pages were slightly crumpled, as if someone had already read it.

Sitting on a green iron bench, she opened the newspaper. The moment she read the front page, her face turned pale, and she quickly closed it.

Her heart pounded as if it were about to burst.

Her palms were suddenly soaked with sweat.

With trembling eyes, Georgiana looked around. Fortunately, everyone was too focused on reading their newspapers to pay her any attention.

After checking her surroundings, she took a deep breath and reopened the paper.

She hoped that what she had seen was a mistake, but no matter how many times she blinked, the article remained unchanged.

W-what is this picture?!

A large black-and-white montage of Locke, Henry, and what seemed to be her, with the Mayfield in the background, was prominently displayed. Below the picture was a significant reward for their capture.

Fortunately, since it was black and white and not precisely detailed, people from the ship might not recognize them immediately. However, anyone who had been onboard could easily identify them.

Seeing herself portrayed as a dangerous criminal in the newspaper made Georgiana’s heart sink, but more than fear, she felt confusion.

Why on earth was there a bounty on her?

No matter how much she searched her memories, she had never done anything bad in her life. She had never bullied anyone, stolen anything, or done anything remotely criminal. She couldn’t even hurt an ant. There was nothing that could justify calling her a criminal.

As she wondered if this was all a case of mistaken identity, a forgotten incident flashed in her mind.

Willow!

Could it be that Willow had died from the gunshot that day?

If that were the case, and she was wanted for murder…

Then Locke and Henry were also on the run, accused of aiding and abetting.

Her face hardened.

Though she was still upset with Lockwood and the shock of that day lingered, she had no intention of letting him take the fall for her supposed crime.

Determined to turn herself in as the sole perpetrator, she turned the page—only to find that she wasn’t the criminal. Instead, Lockwood was the one accused of attempting to kill Edmund. The news shocked her so much she sprang to her feet.

W-why would he?

Her sudden commotion drew the attention of people around her. She quickly buried her face in the newspaper and sat back down.

She wasn’t illiterate, yet she couldn’t seem to read or believe what she was seeing.

The article stated that Locke had shot Edmund on the final day of the voyage and escaped with his accomplices.

It made no sense.

That day, he had treated Isabella as if she were the most precious person in the world, with a gentle expression that he had never shown to her.

And now, he had supposedly shot Isabella’s father, Edmund?

Why?

Her eyes anxiously scanned the rest of the article.

Everything about the criminals was fake—their names, their identities, even their places of birth. Since they had stayed in first-class cabins, the nobles onboard were completely deceived. Because they had targeted Edmund specifically, most assumed they were part of the independence movement, although their motives were still unclear.

According to the testimony, a woman from Humblelum had nearly been exposed, and she had even tried to kill Edmund’s family. Fortunately, thanks to Lady Isabella’s quick thinking, it had failed.

Georgiana barely held back from shouting that it was nonsense. She had been the one threatened, yet they were calling her the criminal?

More importantly, though, was the revelation that everything about Lockwood and Henry was fake.

Looking back at the front page, next to their names was the word “alias,” and her name was listed as “Georgiana Courtney (alias, Juliana Limberton).”

Her mind went blank at the realization that everything about him was a lie.

He wasn’t Lockwood Limberton, the man she knew—he was someone else entirely.

Come to think of it, the man who claimed to be interested in painting never once picked up a brush during the voyage. He never talked about business directly with Henry either.

Whenever they seemed to be having an important conversation, they would switch topics as soon as she appeared.

If everything in the article was true, then who was the man she had shared a bed with?

It was confusing.

Were they really independence fighters?

From the beginning, she had thought that Lockwood and Henry seemed more like soldiers than an artist or a businessman. Their swift movements and quiet footsteps were also more in line with military training.

If that assumption was correct, Lockwood and Henry, members of the independence movement, must have boarded the ship to kill Edmund. Since having two men board together would have drawn too much attention, they needed someone to play the role of a wife—hence their proposal to her.

Now, all his puzzling actions made sense.

The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that he had used her.

Surely, if he were a soldier, he would have known that the person playing the wife role could be in danger.

He had never considered her safety from the start.

Perhaps taking her on the boat at the end was out of guilt. But what difference did it make? In the end, she had become a wanted criminal alongside them.

The realization that the person she had thought of as her only refuge had been a dangerous trap made her heart feel as if it were being torn apart.

As she remembered all the times she had worried about Lockwood and tried to protect him, feeling anxious and manipulated by others, she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

How pathetic she must have seemed to him—struggling alone, nursing her pain. How much had he laughed at her behind her back?

The thought was unbearable.

That must have been why he had looked so troubled. He couldn’t accept her feelings, nor did he have any intention of doing so.

And yet, he had still taken her body.

Though she would never see him again, Georgiana vowed never to forgive him if they ever did cross paths.

She wiped away her tears with her sleeve. The sky was clear, yet it seemed like it was always raining on her.

Lost in thought, she only realized how long she had been sitting there when her head, covered by her hat, began to feel hot. The newspaper-selling children, who now had no customers left, seemed less enthusiastic as well.

Pressing her palm against her cheek, she forced herself to snap out of it.

Unless she was planning to turn herself in, her first priority was to return to the inn.

She always carried her money with her, fearing it would be stolen if she left it behind, so that wasn’t a problem. However, all her clothes were at the inn. She had to return, pack quickly, and leave.

Though her appearance in the newspaper wasn’t exactly identical to her current look, someone might still recognize her.

She had left a letter for Sarah at the Mayfield office, even writing her name clearly on it. She had also written the inn’s address. If she didn’t hurry, someone might come looking for her.

Wiping her damp eyes with the back of her hand, Georgiana pulled her hat down low. With only her long brown hair visible from under the hat, her appearance had changed enough that it wouldn’t be easy to recognize her.

How long that would last, she didn’t know.

Walking briskly back to the inn, Georgiana’s heart sank as she saw police officers entering just before her.