“By the way, I wonder who’s coming today? His Grace specifically said you had to be there to receive them. Oh, I think I know, my lady!”
“Know what. Don’t lace it so tight. I can’t breathe.”
“Oh, I got carried away. I’m sorry. Is this better?”
“Yes.”
“A suitor! It’s been a while since any have come by, hasn’t it. The ones who visited before weren’t much to look at, even to me. Our lady has such high standards, and yet His Grace keeps inviting men who are nothing but a pretty face.”
Adelaide had no idea when she had become this maid’s “our lady.” She decided it wasn’t worth responding to and told Amy to loosen the corset ribbons further.
“Even more? The dress won’t fit properly then…”
“Just take it apart and re-baste it. Loosen it more.”
She had no idea how she had endured that awful tightness back then. If she was being honest, she wanted to throw the whole corset out entirely and wear something practical like she normally did.
‘I have to hold myself together if I’m going to put Lionel in his place.’
Lionel had arrived at the Berthier estate in shabby clothes. Adelaide still hadn’t given up on the possibility that this was all a dream, but even if it was, she refused to greet Lionel in any state of disarray.
“My lady, the dress won’t close…”
“Tear out the back seam and pin it with basting pins.”
“But you might get pricked.”
“Do you think I run around all day like you do? I’ll be standing there for a moment and then coming back inside. Pin it closed for now.”
At Adelaide’s firm command, Amy had no choice but to secure the back of the dress with basting pins.
“You have to be careful. You absolutely cannot move too suddenly.”
“Stop nagging and go get breakfast. I’m hungry.”
“Don’t lean back when you sit. You can’t lean back. Understood?”
“I know, I know.”
Sitting with a straight back was no hardship for Adelaide. She had spent the past decade or so with nothing but a backless chair.
“Just you wait, Lionel. This time I’ll show you exactly what I’m made of.”
Adelaide remembered the exact time Lionel was set to arrive.
He had arrived earlier than Duke Berthier expected. That was why the Adelaide of before had failed to stop Lionel from crossing the threshold of the Berthier estate.
Once Adelaide confirmed the sound of Amy’s footsteps fading away, she quietly opened the door and slipped out of her room.
The corridor was empty, everyone busy with breakfast preparations. She set off with firm resolve, determined to meet Lionel before anyone else and drive him away.
The Berthier estate was considerable in size. Getting from Adelaide’s room on the second floor to the front entrance wasn’t a long walk exactly, but it was a fair distance. Adelaide hit her first obstacle at the staircase leading down to the first floor.
“Good morning, my lady.”
A footman. He was a well-looking young man Duke Berthier had selected with great care to uphold appearances, the same one who had gone to the trouble of opening the door for Adelaide himself on the day she was thrown out, a man of thorough professional dedication.
“Going out for a walk, are you?”
Adelaide fixed the brown-haired young man with a sharp glare. She would have felt better stepping on his foot, but she didn’t have much time to spare.
“Have you had breakfast yet?”
“Open the door.”
The young man was accustomed to winning people over with his handsome face, and the corners of his smiling mouth gave the faintest twitch.
“Are you deaf? Open the door.”
Adelaide was grateful that her tongue, at least, still worked exactly as she intended, unlike the rest of her body. If her tongue had also started moving on its own, she would have exploded from the frustration long before now.
Duke Berthier had a habit of sitting down to a generous breakfast. Freshly baked white bread spread thick with butter, a rich steak alongside a crisp salad.
Even past forty, compared to noblemen of similar age, his eating habits clearly made a meaningful difference to his health.
Adelaide knew Duke Berthier’s breakfast would take a good two hours, and still she felt the urgency pressing at her.
In the past, Adelaide had not moved from her room until Duke Berthier called for her, so she had no idea how this stretch of time was supposed to unfold.
“Enjoy your walk, my lady.”
“I thought only your face was oiled up, but your tongue is just as well-greased. Don’t speak to me without permission from now on. You turn my stomach.”
In this world, whether dream or something else, Adelaide had not yet been thrown out, and the footman had not yet opened the door for her as she was expelled.
But with her memories intact, she found the slick-faced young man insufferable. There was no way her words were going to come out kindly.
It was a shame she only had time for a couple of lines. Crossing the front entrance of the Berthier estate was not the end of it. The next obstacle was the vast maze garden she had to pass through.
Adelaide had loved playing in the maze garden since childhood and knew its layout by heart. The high heels were no help at all for moving quickly. She pulled them off entirely, held one in each hand, and pushed straight through the grass without hesitation.
The twenty-seven-year-old Adelaide had built up considerable stamina through years of physical labor, but the seventeen-year-old Adelaide was already gasping from nothing more than walking at a brisk pace.
“D*mn it, it’s uselessly huge.”
She let out a string of curses unbecoming of a noble lady. Foul language made it easier to push through the pain. She finally cleared the garden and reached the front gate.
The rush had been worth it. Two small carriages stood before the gate, the coachmen about to ring the bell. Adelaide ran straight at the first one.
“Stop! Wait!”
The coachman froze with his arm outstretched, eyes darting around. Adelaide shoved her heels back on, crushing the backs down, and planted herself in front of the gate. She grabbed the thin iron bars and shouted.
“You’re not coming in!”
“Pardon?”
“Neither you nor whoever’s inside that carriage sets foot in the Berthier estate!”
The coachman looked Adelaide over with a bewildered expression. She was flushed from running and her hair had come loose, but her noble status was unmistakable. The sheen of her dress and the sharp-heeled shoes no working maid could ever afford made that plain.
“We received a summons from Duke Berthier.”
“I am the Berthier lady. Turn around and go back.”
“Were you the young lady? My apologies for not recognizing you. But we were summoned by His Grace himself, not by the young lady…”
“His Grace is busy. I came to relay his message, so spare yourself the wasted trip and turn the carriage around.”
The coachman was apologetic but showed no sign of backing down. For one thing, it wasn’t entirely clear that Adelaide was who she said she was, and even if she was, the duke’s orders outranked the lady’s.
“My lady, please let us through. If there’s been some mistake, we’ll answer to His Grace ourselves.”
“What mistake? You’re saying you don’t believe me?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you…”
Just as Adelaide’s irritation was about to boil over, the carriage window opened. A man with his hood pulled down low. Everything about him was unclear, but there was one thing she could tell at a glance. He was not a boy.
“Is this how the Berthier house treats its guests?”
“Depends on the guest.”
The man gave a cold smile.
“How bold of you, to say so openly that you pick and choose who you receive.”
Adelaide watched every detail as the man slowly stepped down from the carriage.
‘Has the old man lost his mind? Since when did he have a son this grown?’
The Lionel in her memory had been much smaller. This man stood a full two heads taller than Adelaide. He was imposing. She kept her chin up, refusing to let any fear show.
“And now what? Are you going to drive me out anyway?”
“What kind of question is that! You are never setting foot in the Berthier estate, Lionel!”
Adelaide called out boldly. The man tilted his head to one side.
“Lionel?”
“Lionel!”
“That would be…”
The coachman of the second carriage, which had been parked behind the man’s, stepped down and cut in carefully.
“Lionel is my delivery, my lady.”
“What?”
The second coachman walked to his carriage, opened the door, and pulled out a pair of bony wrists.
The scrawny boy was visibly frightened. He stumbled out without any resistance.
“My lady, this child is what I’ve been sent to deliver. Duke Berthier gave strict orders to bring him directly before His Grace.”
Adelaide turned back to the man with an awkward look. The man crossed his arms and shrugged.
“It seems there was a mix-up after all. Since there appears to be a guest you needed to drive away, I, the guest who needed no driving away, will see myself off for another time.”
Adelaide stared blankly at the departing carriage, then shifted her gaze to Lionel.
‘That does seem to be Lionel…’
Compared to the man who had just left, he was small, almost startlingly so. In the meantime, the coachman, afraid Adelaide might drive them away the same way she had the other man, was already pushing Lionel along.
“This is the delivery, no question about it. His Grace himself made a point of saying he wanted to see him in person. You, say something too. If His Grace gave you anything to bring along, take it out now!”
Lionel made a show of patting down his pockets. Duke Berthier had given him nothing of the sort, but the coachman was glaring and fuming, and Lionel had reason to think he might get hit if he provoked him further.
