CHAPTER 55………………………………..
“It’s such lovely weather for a walk today.”
Anje nodded in reply to the head maid’s cheerful greeting.
“It’s starting to get warm, don’t you think? Feels like the spring banquet was just yesterday.”
“It’s such a short season, after all.”
“What a shame.”
Anje, who had been gazing at the rosebuds just beginning to bloom, turned away. Lunch break was nearly over.
Her superior was famous for his punctuality—though it wasn’t just about time. Lazy employees were dealt with just as sharply…
‘He’d fire them in an instant.’
Thinking of her own house, which was only just beginning to take shape, Anje lowered her head.
It might look nice, but every pillar, every marble tile laid on the floor had been bought with her own hard-earned money.
She was mentally calculating the advance payments for the furniture and fixtures when she trudged toward the aides’ office.
“Miss Anje!”
The head maid’s call made Anje look up.
“You dropped this.”
In the woman’s hand was a folded note.
“Oh, thank you.”
Just as Anje reached out to take it, the head maid suddenly clenched her fist, hiding the paper in her palm.
“Madam?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, but I accidentally saw what was written. It’s a list of young ladies’ names—quite a few of them. I wondered if it might concern His Grace….”
You are the Duke’s aide, after all—the words she left unsaid were clear enough.
Anje gave a small nod.
After hesitating for a moment, the head maid spoke again, cautiously.
“Could it be that His Grace is interested in someone other than Lady Crowe? But with so many names…?”
She trailed off in embarrassment, frowning slightly.
Though she was now the head maid, she had once been the Duke’s nurse—she had cared for him since infancy.
So naturally, she was as worried as the Dowager Duchess about why the Duke, well past marriageable age, kept delaying his marriage.
And now the Duke’s aide had dropped a note full of noble ladies’ names. The woman’s heart nearly dropped.
As she subtly unfolded the note again to double-check, her expression wavered.
Could the Duke perhaps have… peculiar tastes?
Sensing her unspoken worry, Anje quickly shook her head.
“No, it’s not like that at all.”
Glancing around, she lowered her voice.
“The names belong to the young ladies who bullied Lady Mariana at the academy. I asked Josh to find out who they were. I can’t do anything about them, of course, but I thought I should at least know.”
The head maid’s demeanor changed instantly—from anxious to grim.
“These girls on this list… bullied our Lady Mariana?”
Instead of answering, Anje nodded.
The old nurse tightened her grip on the note.
“Miss Anje, would you mind giving me this paper?”
Anje, who had dropped it on purpose, nodded readily.
“Of course, Madam. I’ve already memorized all the names. You may keep it if you wish, but…”
She glanced around and whispered,
“I’d appreciate it if you kept the fact that I gave it to you a secret.”
“Oh, of course, dear.”
But Anje knew perfectly well that the woman would run straight to the Dowager Duchess—and wouldn’t dream of keeping that secret.
Anje smiled sweetly and didn’t ask what the woman planned to do with the note. She could already guess.
They say that if you’re hurt, you should talk about it—otherwise you can’t be treated or healed.
The same was true for wounds of the heart.
Anje suspected that someone was behind the girls who bullied Mariana.
She even had an idea who—but it was someone she didn’t want to believe could be responsible.
There were still things she needed to confirm, so she had been quietly investigating here and there.
Of course, the Duke was looking into it as well.
But since it was something that had happened long ago, and among women at that, the Dowager Duchess would surely uncover the truth faster.
Watching the head maid march off, fists clenched, to find the Duchess, Anje turned and headed toward the aides’ office.
‘He’ll probably scold me again for being “late” by five minutes.’
With a sigh, she shook her head.
Lately, the Duke had been oddly irritable with her. She did her work diligently, just as he asked—but for some reason, he kept finding fault.
‘Would it kill him to just tell me what’s wrong?’
The next day, Anje examined the dozens of dresses hanging on the rack, then shook her head.
Glancing down at her work uniform, she said,
“I think it’s best if I just go like this.”
“What? No! Why?”
Mariana looked genuinely upset, but Anje only smiled.
“I had to be formal when I stood beside His Grace at the banquet, but this is just a tea party. Everyone there already knows who I am. If I show up all dressed up, they’ll only laugh.”
“Hmph! They’ll laugh at you either way. That’s for sure.”
“Exactly. If I’m going to be criticized no matter what, I’d rather do nothing and save the money.”
Mariana’s face grew serious.
“Is it because you don’t like any of these dresses?”
“Oh, no, my lady! Of course not.”
Anje’s eyes gleamed with admiration as she looked over the gowns. They were all so beautiful—far beyond anything she would’ve ever dared to dream of before.
“They’re just… beyond my station.”
After all, “Anje Beaufort” was a fabricated identity created by Elliot. In truth, she was just an information broker.
She had long since abandoned the idea that she was the real granddaughter of Marquis Crowe.
Any lingering longing for noble life—or regret at having lost it—had completely vanished after she met the Marquis himself.
The memory of his greedy, calculating expression made her blink slowly.
The Marquis’s mansaeryeok (fortune chart) was just as unpleasant as his face—laden with avarice.
It predicted that early hardships would bring him great wealth, but that his end would be uncertain.
‘If he started doing good deeds now, it might turn around…’
A bitter smile tugged at her lips.
When her father passed away, Anje had sent word of his death to the Crowe family at her mother’s request.
But the Marquis never came.
Even later, when they moved, she left contact information just in case—but there was no word.
True, letters often went missing in that district, but a man like Marquis Crowe could’ve found them easily if he’d cared to.
“I have no children. I will pass everything to the most capable person.”
Remembering the Marquis’s words from an old magazine interview, Anje’s eyes darkened.
He had meant what he said, evidently.
“There’s no such thing as ‘too grand’ for a dress,” Mariana said. “If it looks good on you, that’s all that matters.”
Snapped out of her thoughts, Anje smiled faintly.
“Oh, but there is. I’m a servant. It was one thing to wear fine clothes when accompanying His Grace at the banquet, but at a tea party with you? Everyone would think I don’t know my place.”
One Cinderella night at the ball had been quite enough.
“I imagine they invited me for some reason—perhaps for advice about romance or to ask about the Duke. Since His Grace has been avoiding society lately, Lady Hildegarde must be quite curious.”
“Dolores said everyone’s curious about you! The invitation might’ve been for you, not me. So stop being stubborn and pick a dress. I absolutely forbid that awful uniform!”
“Why? It’s practical, you know. The skirt’s the perfect length—no need to hold it up when walking.”
“Hmph! As if that excuses it.”
Mariana glared at Anje’s dull, dark dress with dismay.
“I heard Sir Elliot ordered that uniform. Ever since, I’ve decided to despise him. Such atrocious taste! I pity his future wife.”
“But—”
Anje was about to protest when the door suddenly burst open. The Dowager Duchess appeared, making both Anje and Mariana jump.
“I knocked, but no one answered.”
“They’re fighting, ma’am,” Josh tattled quickly, ducking behind the head maid.
“What on earth is going on?” asked the Duchess.
“Mother, Anje says she’s going to the Crowe family’s tea party wearing that!” Mariana wailed.
“You don’t mean that uniform, surely?”
The Duchess’s expression darkened. She turned to the head maid.
“Have those things arrived yet?”
“Of course, madam.”
