Secrets and Schemes in the Manor

"This filthy, despicable thief not only stole from our family but dared to tarnish my sister's reputation! He's a devil! Oh, my poor Catherine, if she had heard the foul words of this scoundrel, she would have fainted with fright. Dear God! I can't even breathe," Margaret clung to her husband, Viscount Wilson. The Viscount, heartbroken for his young wife, glared coldly at the man in the center of the court and said to the judge, "Your Honor, I am beyond words in my anger. He is an ungrateful and shameless villain. Such a heinous man deserves to be hanged!"

...

I suddenly woke up.

Wiping the cold sweat from my forehead, I realized I had another nightmare.

Today, Viscount Wilson was scheduled to visit, and the entire Mormont Estate was again in a state of tension. From the housekeepers, both male and female, down to the lowest-ranking kitchen maids, everyone was so busy their feet barely touched the ground.

By noon, we finally welcomed Viscount Wilson's carriage amidst the biting cold wind.

Indeed, he was very old.

His hair was gray, his scalp balding, deep wrinkles lined his eyes, and his eyelids drooped, but he still seemed full of energy. He greeted Viscount Bruce with warmth, like old friends long separated.

After paying his respects to Lady Bruce, Wilson turned toward the two young ladies standing behind her.

The Viscountess introduced them, "These are my two daughters, Margaret and Catherine."

After the two curtsied to Wilson, Margaret suddenly smiled brightly. "Your Lordship, are you the Viscount who resides in Pitsaly?"

The girl's voice was like a lively nightingale, filled with innocence and carefree joy.

Wilson immediately smiled and, in a soft and flattering tone, said, "Yes, my dear young lady, it is an honor to be known by such a beauty as yourself."

Margaret tilted her head and asked, "I've heard there's an ancient tree in your estate, over a thousand years old. Could you tell me about it?"

Viscount Bruce was momentarily taken aback by his daughter's enthusiasm. She had previously refused, so why was she now so eager?

"Oh, Margaret, how impolite of you! The Viscount has only just arrived," the Viscountess scolded her daughter, then smiled at Wilson and said, "Welcome, Your Lordship, please come inside. You must be freezing."

Out of the Viscountess's sight, Margaret playfully stuck her tongue out at Wilson. Wilson laughed heartily, clearly charmed by the lively young lady. He entered the castle with the guidance of the Viscount and Viscountess, while the two sisters exchanged a glance.

"I've changed my mind. I've decided to marry him," Margaret said.

"I thought you hated that old man," Catherine whispered.

"Now, it doesn't seem like he's that old, and it looks like he prefers me," Margaret said, raising her chin.

"As long as you don't mind, sister," Catherine lowered her head, hiding her expression.

Margaret gave a smug smile and linked arms with her sister, "Come on, we should go inside."

In the servants' quarters, a group of servants was gossiping.

"First a baron left, now a viscount arrives. The marriage prospects of the two young ladies are truly full of twists and turns."

"Who do you think Viscount Wilson will propose to?"

"If the young lady gets married, how many personal maids will she take with her?"

"Maybe she'll take a footman along," someone joked.

"What nonsense are you all talking about!" a stern female voice interrupted.

The servants jumped to their feet, startled as they looked at the housekeeper, Selina.

"Gossiping behind the backs of the masters—is that what you're paid to do? If you don't want to work here, plenty of others can replace you!" she scolded.

After the servants were dismissed, Selina wearily sat down on a chair.

"Are you alright? Are you ill?" I asked.

"Oh, Owen, you startled me," Selina said, clutching her chest.

"I'm terribly sorry for scaring you," I said apologetically. "I was just worried. You don't look well—do you want me to call a doctor?"

"No, no, no need," Selina replied. "I'm fine, just... there's been some troubling rumors among the servants lately."

"What did they say?"

"It's a disgrace to me as a housekeeper that such talk has spread in the manor. I need to find out who's behind this nonsense. In such sensitive times, if word reaches the masters, what will we do?" Selina said, looking helpless.

"Are they talking about the matter involving Miss Margaret?" I whispered.

"You—have you heard about it too? What are we going to do?" Selina became flustered.

In everyone's eyes, I had always played the role of the silent and reserved one, never getting involved in gossip. So Selina was deeply worried now, knowing that even I had heard the rumors.

"Should I tell the lady of the house and let her deal with it?" Selina asked me.

"Miss Margaret would never do something so lowly. If you go out of your way to mention it, it'll only smear her reputation further. The lady will likely take her anger out on you. You'd be better off suppressing the rumors quietly. Once Miss Margaret is married, the matter will be over," I advised.

Selina pondered for a long while.

I stood beside her, waiting for her decision. After a long pause, she hesitated and asked, "You don't think there's anything between the second young lady and Jensen, do you? They're always laughing together."

I quickly motioned for her to be quiet. "What are you talking about? It's one thing for the servants to gossip, but you should be stopping this, not joining in!"

Selina's face turned pale. "You're right, Owen. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Selina hurriedly left the servants' quarters. The flickering candlelight cast dark shadows across my face.

At the evening banquet, Margaret clung to Wilson's arm throughout, and they seemed to have become fast friends.

Both the Viscount and Viscountess looked satisfied.

"Margaret has grown up and learned to use her head. Look at how she's charming Wilson; he's completely smitten. He hasn't taken his eyes off her the entire time," the Viscountess laughed.

The Viscount sighed in relief. "I knew Wilson would like Margaret. He prefers lively girls. Catherine may be beautiful, but her quiet elegance doesn't appeal to him. It's a good thing Margaret changed her mind."

"Do you think he'll propose to her?" the Viscountess asked.

"Don't rush it. Even if he does, it won't be immediate. No one proposes at the first meeting. Make sure to host him well and make him feel at home. With Wilson's support, we won't have to worry about anything," the Viscount said.

Not far away, Catherine watched her sister's happiness, her expression complicated.

During the banquet, the ladies often had to change clothes.

In the dressing room, Catherine held one of Margaret's dresses, gently running her fingers over the fabric.

Her pale fingers moved across the luxurious satin like pearls rolling. Suddenly, her green eyes flashed with fury, and she began to viciously tear at the fabric as if she wanted to shred the beautiful dress to pieces. Fortunately, the material was sturdy, and despite her efforts, only a small mark was left.

"My God, Catherine, what are you doing!" 

The familiar scream came from Catherine's mother.

Catherine spun around, startled, and the dress slipped from her hands onto the floor.

The Viscountess hurriedly picked up the dress and, seeing that it wasn't ruined, sighed in relief. "Even if you're angry, you shouldn't do this. She's your sister. Although you can't marry Viscount Wilson, if you ruin your sister's chance, what will your father and I do? What will happen to our family?"

Catherine sneered bitterly. "If ripping her dress ruins her chances, then they weren't worth much, to begin with."

"You've always been smarter than your sister. You deserve something better, my good girl," the Viscountess consoled her.

"Better? Where's the better without money?" Catherine sighed. "If it weren't for this family, I would tear Margaret's face apart."

"You're sisters; don't say such things!" The Viscountess shook her fan vigorously, as if struggling to breathe.

"Mother, do you think my cousin will come?" Catherine asked worriedly.

"Cousin? You mean the hunchback?"

"Who else do we have as a cousin?" Catherine frowned.

The Viscountess patted Catherine's shoulder. "Don't worry. He will come back. And even if he doesn't, we'll make sure he does. Then he will marry you."

"What makes you so sure? He's not interested in me at all."

"He's set to inherit your father's title. He can't just take the benefits without marrying you. Don't worry, darling. Your mother won't let you suffer." The Viscountess's eyes glinted. "And if he refuses, we'll kill him. Without him, there's always a distant Bruce to take over..."