Chapter 70

It was deep in the night. The moonlight was unusually bright. It was the quietest hour of the day, but in a manor with servants numbering in the dozens, there were those who had not yet slept. The soft sound of the patrolling servants’ whistles drifted through the garden, and the maids on night duty walked the corridors of the manor, noting any tasks left undone from the day or in need of attention. The one part they did not enter was a section of the topmost floor, where the master’s and mistress’s rooms were.

That night’s duty fell to Amelia. Though her position as head maid meant she could easily hand off this tedious and demanding task to other servants, she always included herself in the rotation. Among the servants who respected Amelia, this was one of the reasons they gave for that respect. But from Amelia’s own perspective, the greatest reason she did not avoid the night duty was herself.

Walking through the manor alone in the deep of night, Amelia fell into many thoughts. She had spent most of her life in this ducal manor. The marquis’s daughter she had served, Owen’s birth mother, had married the duke at barely nineteen years old. Which meant Amelia too had been in this ducal manor since she was nineteen. After her death, Lady Ellarod, who became the new duchess, had made efforts to erase all traces of the previous duchess from the manor, but wherever Amelia looked inside the manor, she could find traces of the young lady she had served.

Amelia held her lantern and looked around the manor in a daze. Memories as vivid as yesterday came pouring in despite how long ago it had been.

‘My Amelia! I trust you more than anyone. You know how much I care for you, don’t you?’

Yes. And Amelia had genuinely cared for Owen’s mother in return. How kind this beautiful young lady had been! Noble as she was, she had pulled the damp Amelia into her arms without hesitation, even wearing her white muslin chemise. Every time she whispered that they were as good as sisters, Amelia trembled with happiness and joy. I could probably die for you. The young Amelia had carried that belief in her chest.

In the meantime, Amelia’s mother died of illness. It was a lung disease. The inflammation had already spread to other organs. The doctor who examined her said it was because Amelia’s mother had spent most of her life working in a kitchen. He also said the patient could be kept alive, but would need to take medicine consistently.

But the medicine the doctor named was so expensive that Amelia’s family could not save the woman who was their mother and wife. Amelia was sad, but she accepted this tragedy quickly. People like that were more than common around her. Was it not an unavoidable tragedy. Truly unavoidable……

‘Amelia. Amelia! He has been unfaithful! Oh……!’

Owen’s father, the previous duke, had begun his affair with Lady Ellarod after Amelia’s mother died. Owen’s mother, now duchess, was deeply shaken by her husband’s infidelity. It coincided with the beginning of her family’s marquisate falling into decline, which made the betrayal hit her even harder. Or perhaps it was because the marquisate was declining that the duke had turned his eyes to Lady Ellarod, the daughter of a wealthy baronial family. He was an ambitious man. That was how he had managed to hold his position firmly in a rapidly changing society, but he was not a man from whom one could expect loyalty as a husband.

Struck by one blow after another, Owen’s mother fell ill. Amelia came to learn that the illness she suffered was the same as her own mother’s. It was a strange coincidence, but Amelia felt relief. The young lady she served was a duchess, so she would not die for lack of medicine money. I lost my mother, but I will not lose my lady. How fortunate. Amelia felt reassured and urged her to take the medicine.

‘No. Amelia…… I no longer want to live……’

But Owen’s mother refused the medicine. She threw it in the rubbish, spilled it on the floor, and sometimes threw it out the window. The young lady Amelia served had not only a bodily illness but a deep illness of the spirit. She left the world in what amounted to s*icide. And her loyal maid Amelia did not try to persuade her to live. It would certainly have been useless, but there is a clear difference between having tried and not having tried.

After her death, Amelia was deeply shaken. It was not simply the fact that she had been complicit in her death. The feeling she had experienced when she learned of her death was what always tormented her. Of course she was sad and in pain. But why. Why had she not felt only grief and pain at the sorrowful death of the mistress she loved. Why had she, seeing all those medicines that had gone uneaten and discarded, gripped the fabric of her maid’s uniform until it creased with a feeling she had never felt before in her life.

If that was how it would be…… Amelia had thought it looking at the discarded medicines. If that was how it would be. An absurd, selfish, wicked but unstoppable instinct of resentment seized her each time the medicine was wasted. But at the same time Amelia had loved her mother and loved her young lady. So that anger ended by consuming the attention that might otherwise have gone to the young Owen left behind. But every time she saw Owen, every time he grew, Amelia’s guilt toward her young lady kept growing.

She had loved and also resented. And that became guilt that came back to her. A young lady who was gentle and warm but who discarded without a thought the medicine that Amelia’s mother had desperately needed. They had trusted each other like sisters, but they could never truly be sisters, and they lived in different worlds. And so that relationship could not end beautifully.

Now Amelia was seeing a third duchess, after the first and the second. What would become of her. When Amelia thought of that, her spirits sank like a stone dropping to the bottom of a lake.

At last, having finished every check and turned to go back to her quarters, a long shadow came around the corner of the corridor and stepped into her path. The sudden appearance made even Amelia, known for her composure, startle and widen her eyes.

“……M, my lord?”

“Amelia.”

Owen was in the corridor, looking at her. She had not heard footsteps, which made the shock twice as great. Amelia registered her first complaint about the expensive carpets.

“At this late hour…… no, forgive me.”

They were on the second floor, not the topmost. It was difficult to expect Owen to come down here at this hour, when most of the rooms were empty. Amelia started to ask why he was here rather than asleep, then closed her mouth. Owen was carrying a lantern and dressed as though about to go to bed. But even in the dark, Amelia could tell his clothes were disheveled. It was quite clear what he had been doing until recently.

Amelia’s eyes swept quickly over Owen’s face, which resembled his birth mother’s, then moved to the side. The slight furrow in her brow smoothed back out. Owen smiled pleasantly.

“Is there something you need of me, my lord?”

Amelia asked in a composed tone shortly after. Owen nodded, still holding the lantern in one hand.

“I’ll be going out tomorrow, and this time that woman will come with me. The destination…… a play or an opera would do.”

“……Going out?”

“Yes. And when the sun rises, send a letter to old Druton. In that woman’s name, not mine. Something along the lines of requesting a visit should be sufficient.”

Owen said it as though it were nothing, but Amelia found herself looking directly at Owen’s eyes without meaning to. Her sharp instincts had no difficulty identifying ‘that woman’ as Lea, but that was precisely what unsettled her.

Since the marriage, Owen had never once taken Lea with him when he went out. He had gone to the summer banquet alone. For him to suddenly announce a private outing to an opera or a play made Amelia first bewildered, and then uneasy.

“Forgive me, my lord. But I find it difficult to understand your intention.”

What would become of the third duchess. Amelia did not know the answer, but she had an answer she wanted. Her tone was calm, but the hand holding the lantern tightened. Owen looked at Amelia’s hand, knuckles going white, for a moment, then said coolly, “I’m the one who finds it difficult to understand. Preparing for an outing and sending a letter requesting a visit to Judge Druton. Which of those two instructions is difficult to follow?”

“I can do both. But what I do not understand is your intention, my lord.”

Amelia straightened her neck and looked at Owen.

“My lord. I had believed the reason you gave that woman no instructions whatsoever was because she would soon be gone. But what you are saying now sounds as though……”