Chapter : 10
Windsor rose from his seat and stood straight, looking down at her. With his feet together and hands clasped behind his back, he resembled a naval officer.
“Thank you for your efforts, Miss Somerset. I hope your other lessons are just as good.”
“Of course, Lord Preston.”
“However, even if this is a Northean lesson, I would appreciate it if you could cover a wider variety of topics. When Benjamin converses with people from the Kingdom of Northe in the future, it’s far more likely the topic will be economics rather than warships, isn’t it? Spending an entire hour talking only about warships seemed rather inefficient.”
“!”
At that moment, Jacqueline realized he had understood every word of the lesson. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she soon beamed with a bright smile, as if she’d completely forgotten what had just happened.
“You’re absolutely right, Lord Preston.”
Windsor stared wordlessly at her genuinely cheerful smile. As if his business were concluded, he turned to leave the room—but paused abruptly.
His gaze briefly flicked toward the wall behind him. Suddenly, the corner of his eyebrow twitched.
“Benjamin will need an art tutor.”
Upon hearing his uncle express disappointment in his drawing skills, the boy’s face immediately fell into a sullen frown. Jacqueline quickly rushed to Benjamin’s defense.
“It only looks bad compared to my drawings. Benjamin actually draws quite well for his age.”
“You mean the pudding-shaped figure with eyes, nose, and mouth, and the dog with five legs? We’d better hire a skilled painter before he becomes the laughingstock of the boarding school. I don’t know if the next Marquess of Preston will ever need to draw anything himself, but it’s better to prepare in advance, isn’t it?”
“Uh… um…”
Jacqueline couldn’t bring herself to speak, her eyes darting helplessly. The words “It’s not a dog—it’s a horse! And that’s not a fifth leg, it’s a tail!” just kept swirling uselessly inside her mouth.
Benjamin, who had been looking down, slowly raised his head. The boy, who had been staring fixedly at the drawing, tilted his head in confusion.
“I’m glad I could be of help, Lord Preston.”
Jacqueline offered an awkward smile and a farewell bow. Windsor left the room without another word.
Only then did she slowly turn to look at Benjamin. Their eyes met, and Jacqueline’s shoulders slumped in defeat.
“I’m sorry, Benjamin. I just couldn’t confess to Lord Preston that it was my drawing.”
“…It’s alright, Miss Somerset.”
Benjamin nodded solemnly, as if he understood everything. Yet Jacqueline couldn’t shake off her self-loathing.
With a vague wave of her hand, she said, “See you later,” and walked out of the room. Jacqueline shuffled down the corridor with an utterly unladylike gait.
Many people at the boarding school failed to understand her artistic vision. Both her friends and teachers always laughed at her drawings the moment they saw them.
Jacqueline considered herself a tragic genius—how often had brilliant painters, born ahead of their time, been forced into unfortunate lives because no one recognized their talent?
That was why, when Fauvism emerged, she believed her era had finally arrived. Yet it seemed she still needed to wait a little longer before her talent would be acknowledged.
Dejected footsteps dotted the path behind Jacqueline.
[This is the timeline separator]
Tap.
Betty set down the silver tray and said, “Your tea is ready.”
Jacqueline placed the tea leaves into the infuser and poured hot water over them. After a brief wait, a pleasantly bitter aroma rose into the air.
“Thank you, Betty.”
“You’re very welcome, Miss Somerset.”
Betty withdrew with her usual stiff demeanor. Even though she was now completely alone, Jacqueline maintained her perfectly upright posture.
She poured the tea into a cup adorned with floral patterns, closed her eyes, and savored the scent of black tea. This time, she took a small sip. The bitter liquid slowly slid down her throat.
“Sigh…”
At last, the sigh she’d been holding back escaped her lips.
“Oh?”
Just then, two sheets of paper on the sofa opposite caught her eye. Next to them lay a pair of spectacles. Jacqueline reached out lightly and picked up both the glasses and the papers.
As she leisurely skimmed through the papers while sipping her tea, William entered the parlor, glancing around as if searching for something.
“Now, where did I… Ah, Miss Somerset. There you are. Did your lesson go well?”
“Of course, William. Lord Preston was very pleased.”
“That’s reassuring to hear.”
“Is this what you’re looking for?”
She fluttered the papers in her hand. William’s eyes widened slightly, and he nodded as he approached.
With his pince-nez glasses and silvery mustache, he was the very picture of a traditional butler.
“I must have left them here. I keep forgetting things lately—must be a sign that it’s time to retire. I did hope to see Master Benjamin ascend to the marquessate, but I suppose that’s just an old man’s selfish wish.”
“You look healthy enough to stay around until then, if you ask me.”
William chuckled warmly at her words, as if genuinely wishing it could be so.
“Is the manor holding a banquet? Is this a guest list?”
Jacqueline handed him the roster listing noble names, asking casually. Beside each name were marked either ‘Attending’ or ‘Not Attending.’
William nodded with a slightly reluctant expression.
“Yes. It’s a banquet to celebrate Master Benjamin’s birthday. Since we stayed at the estate for years, this will be the first proper banquet in quite some time. As you know, the current Marquess isn’t particularly fond of such events.”
The last sentence was spoken so quietly it was barely audible, and William quickly cleared his throat with a “Hem-hem,” as if regretting having said too much.
Instantly reverting to his formal butler persona, he added in a businesslike tone,
“The banquet is in only two weeks, yet many guests still haven’t confirmed their attendance. I’ll have to follow up with them again. Please rest now, Miss Somerset.”
“Thank you for your hard work, William. Oh—”
At Jacqueline’s words, William, who had already begun to leave, turned back.
“Are these your spectacles, too?”
“No, they belong to the Marquess. Come to think of it, he was just reviewing the guest list a while ago. If you’d be so kind as to—”
“No, I’ll take them to him. I’ve just finished my tea anyway. But…”
Jacqueline lifted the spectacles up to her eyes. She squinted one eye shut and peered through the lens at William. His image appeared clearly through the glass—completely undistorted.
“There’s no prescription in these.”
“Indeed. The Marquess has rather good eyesight. Those are just for show.”
For show?
Jacqueline raised an eyebrow as she examined the silver-rimmed glasses.
“He’s already perfect—how could he possibly look even more impressive?”
“Hahaha!”
William burst into laughter, as if she’d just told a delightful joke. But Jacqueline had been perfectly serious.
“Then I’ll leave it to you.”
With a faint smile, William exited the parlor.
“A banquet, huh…”
Jacqueline cast a calm gaze out the window. It had been a very long time since she’d heard that word.
Though her family’s status had fallen, she had once been a countess’s daughter and had attended numerous banquets with her parents before entering boarding school.
During holidays, the Somerset estate even held banquets specifically in her honor.
On those special evenings, she would choose her favorite dress, and maids would swarm around to style her hair—doing everything possible to ensure Jacqueline would shine as the evening’s star.
Of course, their best efforts didn’t always yield the best results.
Sometimes they’d singe her hair with a hot curling iron, or apply makeup so heavily she ended up looking ridiculous.
Still, it had been joyful. Lost in the fond memory, Jacqueline found herself unconsciously smiling.
“A birthday banquet for Benjamin? I wonder what I could possibly give him as a gift.”
She wondered what a “penniless young lady” could possibly offer a young master who already had everything.
The lazy afternoon sun gently warmed Jacqueline’s pale cheeks. The familiar names of noble houses from the guest list came to mind.
Many of her former classmates from boarding school, or daughters of noble families she’d met at past banquets, were expected to attend.
“Has it really been three years? How should I face them now?”
A sigh-like murmur escaped between her teeth. These were people she hadn’t seen since leaving high society.
A few had sent her letters, but Jacqueline never replied to any—she’d been too overwhelmed simply trying to survive her own struggles.
Now, distance had grown between her and them. They remained esteemed young ladies, while she had become a “penniless young lady” forced to earn her own living.
She no longer enjoyed the service of maids, nor had the leisure to attend banquets daily. An invisible but unmistakable line now separated her from them.
“It’s definitely going to be awkward.”
Jacqueline stood up, her gaze still fixed blankly out the window. Worrying wouldn’t solve anything anyway.
“I’ll deliver these spectacles to Lord Preston, then ask Benjamin if he’d like to go for a walk. He’s probably reading alone again.”
Just as Jacqueline crossed the hall heading toward the main staircase, several servants entered, carrying enormous bundles of flowers.
She stepped slightly aside to avoid blocking their path as Madam Ritz gave them instructions. Noticing Jacqueline a moment later, the housekeeper offered a brief nod of acknowledgment.
Then she immediately turned back to the servants.
“Put the bouquet Max is holding in the hall, and take the rest to the banquet hall. I’ll need to inspect the arrangements myself to decide how to combine them.”
She was clearly testing the floral decorations beforehand. Madam Ritz’s meticulous nature shone brightest in moments like these.
“Hard at work, I see.”
Jacqueline offered a light greeting as she climbed the stairs. The spiral staircase, connected to the grand hall, would surely make any entrance look spectacular.
For a moment, she imagined Benjamin descending the red-carpeted steps with dignified grace.
Then—
She froze.
All expression vanished from Jacqueline’s face. A flicker of suspicion passed through her eyes. Her slowly shifting gaze settled on Madam Ritz’s fingertips.
“Make sure the decorations aren’t too cluttered. We must highlight the Preston family’s dignity.”
“Yes, Madam Ritz.”
Maids came running in and began unpacking large bundles of flowers wrapped in paper. Madam Ritz, belatedly noticing Jacqueline’s intense stare, turned her head.
Their eyes met. Madam Ritz raised an eyebrow slightly, her expression quizzical.
“Is there something you need, Miss Somerset?”
Her tone was rigid, revealing her firm resolve not to tolerate even the slightest mistake from the maids as the grand banquet approached.
Jacqueline’s eyes shifted to the flowers spread across the floor. Among the pink roses, blue cornflowers caught her attention.
“Are you planning to decorate the hall with those flowers?”
“That is the plan, yes.”
Madam Ritz’s voice grew even stiffer, and a crease appeared between her brows.
“In that case, you’d better prepare different flowers.”
