Chapter 25 – The Rutland Household
Mrs. Rutland was utterly stunned when she saw Lili brought to the dinner table by her son.
It was the first vacation since sending him off to college.
Had he brought along a female student from another city instead, she might have been merely curious.
“My dear mother, you should hug me. Don’t look so shocked.”
Timothy, oblivious to his mother’s feelings, dropped his bag and walked straight into her embrace.
Yet her gaze remained fixed on the mass of baggage behind him—the very presence she had secretly been glad to see kept outside.
“Mother, Lili came along too. Ever since the convent closed, she had no one to spend Christmas with,” Timothy explained.
Mrs. Rutland finally nodded. If she said anything wrong now, her son might turn around and leave immediately.
“Well… Lili, how have you been? It’s been a while.”
She could barely bring herself to say “welcome,” her words slurred with tension, yet she responded coldly.
I know my son well enough.
Mrs. Rutland decided it was better to treat Lili gently, so as not to ignite a spark of rebellion in her.
Mr. Rutland frowned slightly at Lili but said nothing, pulling out a chair for himself.
“Hello, sir, madam. I didn’t come at first because I was worried I might make the family meal uncomfortable.”
“That’s…”
“You needn’t worry. Mother and Father said they’d be glad to see you,” Timothy interjected with a laugh before Mrs. Rutland could respond.
The prepared dishes were far too extravagant for an orphan. Mrs. Rutland had expected Lili to look awkward in front of the silverware.
Yet contrary to her expectations, Lili displayed impeccable manners.
She knew which fork to use and handled the knife skillfully. Mrs. Rutland had hoped Lili’s hands would be rough and worn like the other maids’. But her hands were soft, and her face remained beautiful.
“How’s the work as a low-ranking hotel maid, Elizabeth?”
Mrs. Rutland’s question, thrown into the uncomfortable silence, was deliberately pointed. She wanted to remind everyone of the class differences at this table.
“It’s fine. There’s accommodation, so I can even save on living expenses,” Lili replied.
“Sir Belmore seems like a very kind man, fulfilling his duties as a noble.”
A faint smile flickered on Lili’s face, but she responded without losing her composure.
“If it’s money to support the convent and the nuns, it might as well be Sir Belmore’s money.”
“How cheeky,” Mrs. Rutland said. She had heard rumors about Sir Belmore and the convent. But if she didn’t tease this calm girl, she felt she might go mad with irritation.
“Mother, that’s enough. On Christmas, thinking about people you dislike is forbidden.”
Timothy’s face flushed slightly after sipping wine. He couldn’t take his eyes off Lili.
Mrs. Rutland deliberately dropped a fork to the floor during the meal, watching closely to see if Lili might reach for Timothy’s hand or playfully touch his feet.
If that happened, she’d have a reason to ruin the dinner and send Lili away. The thought gave her a fleeting thrill.
Feeling the uncomfortable gaze, Lili filled her plate with chickpeas. The fine dining ware, used only on Christmas, was not meant for her.
She quietly ate, occasionally trying to laugh at Timothy’s jokes—but it didn’t come naturally.
“Try some of this too,” Timothy said, noticing Lili hadn’t touched the meat, and served it himself. Mrs. Rutland, unable to bear it, suddenly intervened.
“Timothy, go pick out some wine. We’re out.”
“You can’t complain about the wine I choose.”
“Shall we get it for our wedding anniversary?”
Timothy got up happily at that. That wine was only served when Mrs. Rutland was in a particularly good mood.
“Go together. It might take some time for him to find it,” she said, lightly nudging her husband’s back.
Amusingly, Mrs. Rutland felt the scene reminded her of a moment in the past—when they invited orphans to show generosity and indulge them with a fine meal.
The more they pitied the child, the higher their status seemed. And it was no different now.
“Are you having some too?”
Mrs. Rutland spoke after confirming that Timothy and her husband had completely left the dining room.
“No, I’m not good with alcohol,” Lili replied.
“That’s good. I wasn’t going to share it anyway.”
Lili put down her fork, watching Mrs. Rutland’s face harden.
“When you have a new family—well, I mean, if Timothy finds a good match—this wine is for sharing with her. I heard Timothy has someone he’s seeing, and I was secretly hoping it was you.”
She lightly traced the rim of her empty wine glass.
“If it’s you, Lili, Timothy might pour the wine excitedly, but you won’t get a single sip,” Mrs. Rutland said.
Lili froze, enduring the insult. The meat in her mouth felt like rubber.
“Madam, don’t worry. I have no intention of being with Timothy,” Lili said, her shoulders trembling slightly.
Only then did Mrs. Rutland’s icy expression soften. If the girl had been cunning, she would never have endured this humiliation. That was actually fortunate for her. She had always heard far scarier stories of girls showing up unexpectedly pregnant.
“I’m glad you’re a responsible and smart child.”
Mrs. Rutland resumed her act as the ‘kind-hearted Mrs. Rutland.’
“So, how is the nun? I heard last time she had a terrible headache from the carriage accident.”
“She’s better with medicine now, but we’re saving up to bring her to a big hospital in Londinium. The medicine might not work forever,” Lili replied.
“Oh dear, a doctor in Londinium. That must cost a lot, and the convent is still struggling, right?”
Mrs. Rutland said with exaggerated sympathy. Lili’s face stiffened even more—she was weaker against pity than harsh words.
“It’s fine,” Lili said.
“Nothing is ever fine.”
Mrs. Rutland elegantly set a wine glass before Lili, acting as if she were a duchess.
“Someday, you should return to the convent and repay the debt of raising you, shouldn’t you?”
Lili remained silent. Mrs. Rutland exaggerated a look of grief.
“How about becoming a nun?”
“Well…”
“Isn’t that better than just sending money while only talking about worrying for the nun?”
Mrs. Rutland reached out, stacking her hands over Lili’s. Just then, Timothy returned to the table with a new wine glass, and Mrs. Rutland withdrew her hand, sensing his approach.
“What were you talking about?”
“Timothy, Lili should be going now.”
“Already? There’s still more food, Lili.”
“No, she should go. Right, Lili?”
Mrs. Rutland smiled at Lili. Looking at Timothy, Lili replied,
“Yes. It’s too late. I should return to my lodging now.”
Lili’s face stiffened awkwardly.
“I’ll see you home.”
“It’s Christmas. You should be with your family.”
Before Timothy could intervene, Lili quickly rose.
“The carriage is ready. You can go comfortably. Timothy, you sit.”
Mrs. Rutland said kindly.
“Merry Christmas, Lili.”
“Have a pleasant evening.”
Mrs. Rutland even hugged Lili gently.
Once Lili left, the three of them finally looked like a perfectly happy family. But as they stepped out of the warm house, the harsh cold struck immediately.
Timothy rushed to the entrance, covering Lili with his heavy coat.
“Put this on, Lili,” he said, wrapping her in a scarf. It was far too long, covering half her face when wrapped.
“Thank you, Timothy,” she murmured, though he couldn’t hear her voice through the scarf. He smiled softly, his warm brown eyes filled with genuine concern.
“Lili.”
Timothy’s lips brushed briefly against her rounded forehead. Lili froze, staring at him blankly.
“No… nothing.”
Timothy Rutland should have confessed then. He knew it was wrong after seeing his parents’ disapproving looks, but he had already brought Lili home. He wanted to push her a little, testing her patience.
Yet he didn’t. Timothy brought Lili home purely to care for her lonely Christmas, not to confess his feelings.
“Be careful inside.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m taking a carriage. You go in first, Timothy.”
Lili briskly walked out of the Rutland estate’s garden. There was no driver—but she had expected that, so it didn’t matter.
Timothy was the only precious son of the Rutlands. She had heard enough lectures to last a lifetime.
She didn’t want to hurt him, but his flushed, excited face made her nervous, as though he might confess at any moment.
She had no space to fully accept someone’s love. For someone like her, a confession wasn’t sweet—it left only bitter, lonely traces. That’s why she wanted to avoid it. Especially Timothy’s confession.
Lili walked through the quiet residential streets to the darkened shopping district. One shop still had its lights on, spilling warm yellow light.
She paused in front of it.
The display window held Kachasa caramels, a music box with a spinning lark, and a large snow globe featuring a happy bear family.
She longed to step into that snowy, cozy bear family. People called that kind of feeling love.
By then, the tears at the corners of her eyes had frozen into transparent shards of ice.
