SMR | Chapter 12

~Chapter 12~

And then he left.

Bella didn’t miss the sneer that lingered at the end of his words.

“Did he just mock me?”

She wanted to believe she was being oversensitive, that he didn’t mean it that way, but no matter how many times she thought about it, she reached the same frustrating conclusion.

Cedric knew about the Listerwell family’s intentions in sending Harriet to the convent. He also knew that Bella’s attempt to speak with him was merely a side act of that.

On top of that, her appearance, or even her rubies, meant nothing to him. In fact, the entire Listerwell family was worthless in front of him.

Bella’s clenched fists trembled slightly. She had never experienced such humiliation or disgrace before.

“How much more beautiful do I have to be? How much more famous?”

She had risen from being the insignificant daughter of a minor branch of the viscount family to the legitimate daughter of the main household, and now, she was the most renowned beauty of society, one of the most sought-after brides. Yet despite all that, it felt like nothing had changed since the days when she was merely known as “Harriet’s cousin.”

“Bella, come over here! I’ll introduce you to my friends.”

The image of young Harriet waving to her with a bright smile in the shining sunlight flashed before her eyes. That one moment when she wanted to take everything that belonged to Harriet.

It felt as if the long-buried feelings of inferiority had broken free from their coffin and were crawling back to life, leaving her breathless. She hadn’t even noticed someone approaching with champagne.

“Young Lady, are you all right?”

A gentle voice snapped Bella out of her daze.

When she turned, she saw a man she recognized, looking at her with concern.

“James Cheslow?”

The eldest son of the Cheslow family and Daphne Laurel’s fiancé. And the man who had almost ended up with a brooch pinned to Harriet’s dress.

Bella quickly released her clenched fists and composed her expression.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I felt a little dizzy for a moment…”

“Oh dear! Would you like to borrow my arm for support?”

He set down his glass and extended his arm toward Bella.

She hadn’t paid much attention to him before, but now that she looked closely, he was quite handsome, and unlike a certain someone, he had impeccable manners when dealing with women. On top of that, the Cheslow family was quite influential.

‘Daphne’s so lucky. A good family, lots of money, a pretty face, and even the perfect fiancé. It’s annoying.’

Then, a thought occurred to her—one she had had long ago, a thought that had changed her life.

‘If I take it, it’s mine.’

Bella’s life had been the result of relentless struggle and conquest. Whenever she wanted something, she would do whatever it took to claim it as her own.

The Duke of Kailas family might be out of reach, but the Cheslow family?

‘That’s doable.’

And who knows? If she could become the woman James Cheslow was devoted to, perhaps Cedric Kailas would start to see her in a new light.

With that decision made, Bella fluttered her eyelashes and gave him a weak, fragile smile.

“I hope it’s not too much trouble…”

“Trouble? Nonsense. Ignoring a lady in distress would hardly be gentlemanly.”

With that, Bella reluctantly placed her hand on James’s arm.

“Thank you for your kindness. By the way, I’m Bella Listerwell.”

“As if there’s a man who doesn’t know your name, Lady Bella. I’m James Cheslow.”

“I’ve seen you from afar, but it’s the first time we’ve actually met. Thank you again for your… Oh, I feel so dizzy…”

James quickly supported Bella’s shoulder as she swayed dramatically.

“My lady, should I call for a physician?”

“No, no. I don’t want to cause a scene. I’m sorry, but could you help me to one of the guest rooms?”

“Of course.”

Like a perfect gentleman, he supported Bella as they headed toward a private room.

Little did he know that his entire future was about to change.

***

Many people think life in a convent is simple and peaceful. In some ways, they’re right. But in other ways, they’re wrong. There’s no place where only peace exists among people.

Catherine gathered a few people to sort out her tangled thoughts.

“I’ve called you all here today to discuss Sister Harriet,” she said, looking around at the few people related to Harriet: Vice-prioress Agnes, Emma, who had guided Harriet, and Sophia from the soap workshop.

“What are your thoughts on Sister Harriet?”

Three months had passed since they took in the troublesome lady of high society, and they had to admit that Harriet was not what they expected.

Harriet Listerwell, the scandal-maker, the stain of the Listerwell family, had turned out to be quieter, kinder, and more diligent than the other noblewomen staying at the convent.

It was puzzling why someone like her would be sent away as punishment.

“Honestly, I’m beginning to doubt the rumors about her, Mother. A woman supposedly obsessed with men hasn’t mentioned anything about the opposite sex for three months,” Sophia, who spent the most time with Harriet, defended her.

“But isn’t it just because there are no men here, except for the old stableman? Maybe she simply hasn’t had the chance to bring it up.”

“If that were the case, wouldn’t she at least complain about the lack of men? She’s never even asked about anyone’s relationships or shown any interest.”

More words of support followed.

“I admit I didn’t like her at first, but she seems much more sensitive than I thought.”

“What makes you say that, Emma?”

“Well, the first night I brought her food and clothes to her room, I heard her crying. It didn’t sound like she was angry or upset, just… sad. And…”

Emma, the monk who had shown Harriet to her room, lowered her voice as she recalled that night when she hadn’t dared open the door.

“She was crying and saying, ‘Father, take me with you…’”

Everyone knew Harriet had lost her parents and was taken in by her uncle. Asking her father to take her likely meant she wanted to die.

“How could she utter such blasphemy in a place meant to follow God’s will?”

“But I understand how she feels, Mother,” Emma said, lowering her gaze but refusing to back down.

Like Harriet, she had lost her parents and spent her childhood being passed from one relative’s house to another.

She knew well how miserable it was to feel like a burden, how hard it was to live with your head held high when people mistreated you just because you had no parents.

“Every time you realize no one loves you… it makes you wonder why you should go on living. I don’t think being a noble makes that any different.”

“She could have thought about those who’ve been through worse and been grateful for her good fortune.”

“Well, that’s true, but…”

Emma faltered, and Agnes stepped in.

“It’s rare for people to compare themselves to those beneath them and feel grateful. People always compare themselves to those who have more.”

“And Sister Harriet is only twenty-one, Mother. She’s barely had any exposure to the faith.”

With Sophia’s support, Catherine’s sharp gaze began to soften.

“Sigh… With all of you speaking so highly of her, I feel reassured in my own belief that I haven’t been wrong.”

She didn’t dislike Harriet herself.

She had treated Harriet harshly and assigned her tasks that even regular monks performed, fearing that Harriet might cause trouble. But Harriet had accepted everything without complaint and diligently carried them out.

“I thought she’d at least complain that I was giving her all the work.”

When Harriet hadn’t protested, Catherine had begun to wonder if some of the information she’d received about Harriet was inaccurate.

The letter from Baron Listerwell had described Harriet as spoiled and immature, having been coddled after losing her parents.

If that were true, Harriet would have reacted differently the moment she was assigned those laborious tasks. She wouldn’t have maintained such calm eyes.

No, even from the moment Harriet greeted her and Agnes upon arrival, something had felt off.

Crying out of fear and injustice was one thing. But the way Harriet had quickly wiped away her tears, unable to even lift her head… That wasn’t something you often saw in noblewomen.

“It was as if she was a child who’d been scolded for crying too often…”

Catherine sighed deeply.

For some reason, thinking about Harriet always made her sigh.

“I gave her work to make her reflect and correct her behavior. But based on what I’ve observed, there’s no reason to treat her any differently from the other young ladies.”