If You're Going to Sell Yourself, Sell It to Me - Chapter 72

Georgiana had anticipated she would eventually be asked this question, so she had prepared an answer in advance.

If they asked for her identification, she planned to go to the inn and claim she couldn’t find it. She would then suggest the innkeeper might have thrown it away, leaving no way to recover it.

“No, you won’t find it,” Raymond immediately interjected.

As the two others looked at him curiously, he continued to explain.

“That inn burned down. They probably received divine punishment for their misdeeds.”

Georgiana could wager her limited possessions that the so-called “divine punishment” had been delivered by the man standing before her. The image of the kind-looking man mercilessly firing a gun was still vivid in her mind. He seemed to be someone who could be unexpectedly resolute in such matters.

That was likely why he was capable of managing such a large plantation in the South.

After a week at the estate, Georgiana had concluded that while Raymond had graduated from a prestigious academy, he was completely ignorant about everyday life outside of his work. Of course, his late wife must have taken care of most domestic matters, but with that position now vacant, and the head maid, Catherine, not entirely capable of managing everything, there were deficiencies.

For instance, curtains suitable for spring still hung even though midsummer had long passed. The garden was filled with gaudy flowers, neglecting proper landscaping.

She had heard that Raymond’s lack of involvement stemmed from several reasons.

This estate had been inherited from his maternal grandfather and wasn’t where he had grown up. Most of the staff had been here longer than he had, so he left them to work autonomously. There had been no major incidents or accidents so far.

Veronica, too, had not been a strict manager of the staff, and she rarely intervened.

Moreover, with no one officially overseeing the household, the responsibilities of the butler and head maid had grown significantly, resulting in much of the power concentrating in their hands. Since Raymond left things alone, they had no reason to be cautious around anyone.

Evan did try to stay informed about the overall state of the estate, but with the expansion of the property and the emancipation of slaves, his workload had increased, leaving him unable to focus on smaller details.

Amidst all this, Georgiana remained unaligned with anyone.

Since the first day, she had been avoiding interactions with Catherine. She cleaned her room herself, saying there was no need for help, and thus required little assistance apart from meal times.

This avoidance only seemed to increase Catherine’s pressure.

“Then may I send someone to verify your hometown? As this is an educational position, verifying your identity is essential.”

At Evan’s words, Georgiana’s palms grew clammy with sweat. She didn’t have a “hometown” in this context. Should she mention a place far away? It would still likely be exposed as a lie.

At that moment, Raymond shook his head. “No need. Why go to such lengths? Ms. Leona didn’t come to us directly; we met by chance through an employment agency. What is there to doubt? Besides, she only accepted the job because Angela wanted her to.”

“Even so…”

“Use that time to find my brother. He hasn’t visited for months. What has he been up to?”

Relieved that the topic had shifted away from her, Georgiana discreetly wiped her sweaty palms on her handkerchief.

“I’m already looking into it. I’ve sent someone to the Northwest, and we should receive news soon.”

“Let’s hope there’s no trouble.”

“As always, he’ll be fine. The Count isn’t one to get into accidents or trouble, and his aide is far from ordinary, isn’t he?”

Whatever memory had surfaced in Evan’s mind made him shake his head.

“That’s true.”

Angela’s uncle had apparently not visited for quite some time. Angela often mentioned missing him. While Georgiana hadn’t inquired into his profession, the conversation indicated he might be in the Northwest.

The mention of a “Count” caught Georgiana off guard. Angela’s perfect uncle, as described by the little girl, was not only a noble but someone incredibly high in status.

Her curiosity diminished slightly because of this.

Whether as a governess or on the ship, Georgiana had few pleasant memories involving nobles.

“May I leave now? I have a class to teach soon.”

Angela’s nap was nearly over, and the afternoon lesson was scheduled.

Proper sleep was crucial for children, but Angela’s nap and bedtime hours had been irregular. Only after Georgiana’s arrival had a semblance of routine emerged.

Additionally, as maids rotated to care for Angela following the abrupt resignation of her nanny last year, Georgiana had even suggested to Raymond that they assign a dedicated maid for the child.

Providing a stable environment.

Georgiana sincerely hoped Angela could enjoy what she herself had never experienced.

As Georgiana straightened her dress and rose to leave, Evan finally addressed her.

“Please take good care of Miss Angela.”

“I will.”

Feeling as though she had narrowly escaped scrutiny, Georgiana exhaled quietly.

“If there’s anything you need…”

“Meow!”

The persisting conversation was interrupted by Becky’s irritated meow as she glared at Evan. The feline’s expression clearly seemed to urge him to stop.

Raymond and Evan chuckled at the sight.

After patting Becky’s rear a few times, as Angela had taught her, Georgiana carefully picked up the cat.

“I’ll take my leave now,” she said, bowing and exiting the room.

“It’s unusual. That cat only follows the Count or Miss Angela.”

“See? I told you she’s a good person. Animals can tell who’s good and who isn’t.”

Evan’s curious voice faintly reached Georgiana beyond the closed door.

Georgiana, too, found Becky’s behavior peculiar.

Since her arrival, Becky had been staying in Georgiana’s room and occasionally followed her as she did now. However, the cat never directly sought attention or play; she simply acted aloof, as if Georgiana were responsible for her care.

Naturally, Georgiana had grown fond of her.

Click.

Returning to her room to wash her hands before meeting Angela, Georgiana detected a faint, unfamiliar scent. It was subtle but had been recurring recently in her room.

Becky, who had been relaxed, tensed up.

Initially, Georgiana thought the scent might have come from the maid cleaning her room, but the maid assigned to her didn’t wear anything with that fragrance.

It was evidence that someone had been entering her room.

Opening her drawers and wardrobe, she noticed a scrap of fabric she had placed to detect tampering had fallen.

Her suspicions were confirmed.

Whoever had searched her room was clearly very interested in her.

However, she had no belongings that could expose her identity or be used as evidence. Even the wanted posters displayed outside the local sheriff’s office had become so worn over the weeks that they were nearly unrecognizable. On top of that, she had heard that people seeking rewards frequently removed the posters, frustrating the sheriffs.

As long as she didn’t encounter anyone who knew her, her identity wouldn’t be revealed.

Let them rummage all they want.

Eventually, they would tire.

Deliberately, Georgiana left her things disorganized.

***

For dinner, they served scallop soup, crab salad, and smoked duck set in a mold.

Georgiana took a cautious sip of the soup and then gently set down her spoon. She drank more than half a glass of water, but the salty taste lingered in her mouth.

Yesterday, the salad had been overwhelmingly sour, as if drenched in vinegar. Today, someone had over-salted the soup.

It seemed the room-searching had stopped, but now they were tampering with her meals. Georgiana had no doubt who was responsible for the malicious harassment.

Still, not all the dishes had been sabotaged.

Perhaps they limited their pranks to one or two items per meal to avoid detection. If every dish were tampered with, it would be too obvious.

Georgiana rinsed her mouth with water again and then polished off the salad and the smoked duck with orange sauce that followed.

“You left the soup but seem to have enjoyed everything else,” Raymond said, smiling at her empty plate.

The maid serving the dishes trembled slightly at his comment, though Georgiana pretended not to notice.

“Yes, everything was delicious. I would have eaten the soup too, but I held back when I heard the duck was next,” she replied, smiling warmly.

She had no intention of reporting the petty acts of sabotage to Raymond just yet.

While relying on him might bring temporary relief, it wouldn’t help her in the long run. If he turned the household upside down on her behalf, the consequences for her would likely worsen. No matter how kind Raymond and Angela were, she had to remember she was still an outsider here.

Compared to her time in Humblelum, this place was manageable. There was no physical or verbal abuse here, so such antics seemed like mere childish pranks.

Even so, she knew she needed to take some action before the harassment escalated. She resolved to arm herself with a means of self-defense.

Having finished her fruit dessert, Georgiana wiped her mouth with a napkin and hesitantly addressed Raymond, who was doing the same.

“Excuse me… Mr. Rivern.”

“Yes? Go ahead.”

“You asked me before if there was anything I needed.”

“I did. Have you thought of something?”

His face lit up as he asked, curious about what she might want to request.

“It’s not something I need, but rather something I’d like to learn. If it’s not too much trouble, could I ask you for a favor?”

“Of course. What is it?”

Having seen Angela’s life stabilize remarkably under Georgiana’s care, Raymond was willing to fulfill any reasonable request.

Her desire seemed to spark his curiosity further.

Then came her unexpected request.

“I’d like to learn how to shoot.”