If You're Going to Sell Yourself, Sell It to Me - Chapter 79

“How is it? Did you find the loot? With the room in this state, something must have turned up.”

Georgiana, leaning against the doorframe, addressed the head maid who had turned her room upside down as if a war had broken out. Despite not owning much, it seemed cleaning up would take considerable time.

She was more concerned, however, about Angela waking up from the commotion in the next room.

“I can’t believe there’s nothing…”

Before Catherine could answer, Joan tilted her head in confusion and crawled under the bed, only to emerge with her knees covered in dust and her hands empty.

“Enough!”

Unable to endure the situation any longer, Raymond, who had been silently watching, finally raised his voice. Startled by his shout, the maids who had been rifling through Georgiana’s belongings froze and looked up at him with frightened expressions.

Apparently, it was the first time they had seen such an angry face. Except for one person—the head maid.

“If you give me a little more time…”

“Catherine.”

Raymond’s lowered voice carried a warning that finally made Catherine halt her rummaging.

“This is as far as I will tolerate such disrespect. Why are you doing this?”

“As the head maid, I cannot overlook such immoral acts…”

“Stop. If you persist any further, I will strip you of your position. Your actions blatantly disregard my authority. Why are you ignoring my orders?”

“M-Master! Ignore you? I would never do such a thing!”

Realizing the gravity of the situation too late, Catherine knelt and apologized, but to Georgiana, her tears appeared as insincere as those of a crocodile. There was absolutely no sincerity.

Raymond, equally unimpressed, coldly addressed her. “What exactly is missing, and when did it happen? Why were the maids passing through that area, and why are they so certain that Miss Leona left the room? At first light, I will personally interview each of you to uncover the truth. For now, clean up this mess and disperse immediately.”

“Understood.”

The pale-faced head maid bowed deeply, while Joan watched her with a look of fear.

Thanks to the number of hands at work, the cleanup was swift. Although the room was restored to its original state, Georgiana decided not to comment further.

From dealing with clothing issues in the morning, to hunting for her vanished laundry, to this chaos, the day had been exceptionally long and exhausting.

As the flock of maids retreated like an ebbing tide, the room was left with only Georgiana and Raymond.

Awkwardly, Georgiana hesitated, unsure whether to offer tea or send him away. Her fatigue must have been evident because Raymond lightened the mood with a playful remark.

“So, no luck finding the jewelry with legs? Perhaps they exist only in legends.”

“Indeed. Let’s make sure to find them next time. If not, I’ll attach legs to my own jewelry.”

“I didn’t know you had a sense of humor.”

“I develop one in times like these.”

Raymond laughed at her response but soon wore a troubled expression. Then, as though sharing a burden too heavy to carry alone, he began to speak.

“Compared to other places, the servants in the South tend to be very insular. It’s rare for outsiders to join, and those who do often leave because they can’t overcome the strong sense of territoriality. People here are born, work, and die in one place, so the social circles are very small. Unless we hire from another plantation, finding workers is difficult, and even then, they rarely stay long.”

“I see.”

“When Veronica—my late wife—and I first came here, we experienced similar issues. While nothing was stolen, there was a subtle tension. I heard it was even worse for those who came with us.”

“You knew all that?”

“Of course.”

He nodded as though it were obvious.

“Do you think today’s incident is similar?”

“I’m certain of it.”

“Then why let it continue?”

“As I mentioned, it’s because they’re all quite similar. Even if you drain out the dirty water and fetch new water, there’s no guarantee it will be clean. Sometimes, it’s not something that can be resolved by firing one or two people. That’s why, even though everyone knows, they often choose to turn a blind eye as long as it doesn’t cause any significant harm.”

“I understand.”

Unlike the Empire, where workers could be dismissed without pay for the smallest mistake, the situation here was evidently different. This reminded her of how false the claims of abundant work from the labor office had been.

“However, I won’t let such behavior slide anymore. Attempting to frame an innocent person as a thief crosses a line for me.”

“It could have been a misunderstanding. They might have mistaken me for someone else.”

Although Georgiana knew they had planted the items in her room, she chose not to reveal this to him.

“If it were a misunderstanding, they wouldn’t have focused solely on your room. Their actions were entirely directed there from the start.”

Raymond’s words reassured her once again that he had never doubted her.

Who exactly was this man?

While he often appeared easygoing with his perpetual smile, moments like this revealed a completely different side.

Angela’s prideful boasts about Raymond’s top rank at the academy were no exaggeration. It made her wonder what kind of person his even more brilliant uncle might be—and it scared her a little.

Seeing her amazed expression, Raymond scratched his head and spoke unprompted.

“It’s just because I enjoy detective novels. I’m not as extraordinary as you might think.”

His casual confession made him seem boyish, despite his otherwise mature demeanor.

“That aside, we still need to figure out where those missing jewelry pieces have gone.”

“I’ll keep an eye out in my room. They might sneak back in.”

“Good luck. You must be tired—get some rest.”

“Wait, um…”

Just as Raymond was about to leave, Georgiana impulsively stopped him but hesitated.

This might be her only chance to tell him about the head maid pilfering items, but… what if it made her seem defensive or guilty?

If she made the claim without evidence, Catherine might hide the stolen items even more thoroughly, making it impossible to prove her guilt later.

What was the best course of action?

After some deliberation, she decided to wait for another opportunity to bring it up.

“Is there something else you wanted to say?”

“Ah, well, yes! Could I borrow a carriage tomorrow?”

Recalling her original intention, she inwardly sighed in relief.

“To buy clothes?”

Remembering their earlier conversation, Raymond immediately guessed her reason.

“Yes, my clothes really have disappeared. But even if that hadn’t happened, I was planning to buy some anyway. I’ve been needing new clothes.”

Looking at her attire again, Raymond’s expression softened, and he replied more warmly than before.

“You’re welcome to use a carriage anytime. And if you need clothes, you’re welcome to wear them. To those who remember, it’s a memento of the past, but to others, it’s just clothing, isn’t it? So, it’s fine now.”

“Even so, if it’s tied to precious memories, it’s worth keeping, isn’t it?”

“Keeping it in my mind is enough. If the memory would fade just because the object is gone, it probably wasn’t that important to begin with.”

With that resolute statement, Raymond waved and left.

Locking her door, Georgiana flopped onto her bed and replayed his words in her mind.

They lingered, refusing to fade.

Indeed.

Despite losing all her possessions while on the run, nothing about Lockwood had been forgotten. Even without a single keepsake to remind her, memories of him remained vivid, as if he were still standing before her.

Those unbidden recollections would undoubtedly continue to surface.

There was no telling when they would finally fade.

Raymond was right.

***

“A mad cat is passing through. Everyone, be careful.”

Locke overheard the strange whispers again.

He was used to being called a mad dog, thanks to Henry, but a mad cat? Someone else must be earning that title.

Shaking his head, he returned to his quarters, removed his blood-soaked uniform, and unwound the tightly bound bandages underneath.

The shoulder that had been healing now throbbed from today’s battle.

Although he had been sent to the rear due to an injury, a surprise attack that had started at dawn targeted the back of their unit, forcing him to fight like mad, just as he had when he was at the front lines.

If Henry had known about this, he would have been worried but also would have laughed, calling it ridiculously bad luck.

Fortunately, they had repelled the enemy with minimal losses and heard that troop placements were being rearranged again.

He needed to clean up quickly, pack his things, and prepare to move.

After a brisk wash with cold water, Locke dressed and immediately packed the pair of cat dolls on his makeshift shelf into his bag.

The gift he had bought for Georgiana on the island remained with him, unclaimed. Henry, before leaving to look for her, had tossed it to him, telling him to hold onto it and use it as a reminder not to do anything reckless in her absence.

Although that hadn’t been Henry’s intention, from that moment on, Locke couldn’t look at the dolls without thinking of Georgiana. No matter where he slept, he would always keep the dolls near his bed, as if doing so made it feel like she was right there beside him.