Previously
Cordelia tries to warn Madame Shallow not to bring up money with the Devillers, earning a blow to the head for speaking up. After Dorea maliciously coats Cordelia in terrible makeup, Cordelia washes it off, packs her medicine, and heads down to the waiting carriage.
Cordelia endured the two-hour carriage ride by chiming in with the occasional murmured assent, nodding along as her aunt launched into her usual tirades—cursing her ex-husband and disparaging Dorea for inheriting her father’s plain face and foul temper.
Only after she had wiped the nervous, clammy sweat from her palms against her skirt for the tenth time did the carriage finally draw to a halt. The moment the wheels stopped rolling, Cordelia’s heart raced frantically, a cold sweat breaking out across her skin.
Now that she was no longer a child, the imposing mansion ought to have looked smaller, yet somehow it loomed over her like the extravagant mausoleum of some foreign king, poised to crush her beneath its weight. Her aunt, by contrast, seemed utterly thrilled by the magnificent estate.
The servants guiding them inside remained outwardly polite, but in their subtle glances, Cordelia could feel them scoffing at her aunt’s vulgar, restless conduct and garish attire. Heat crept up Cordelia’s neck in a deep, burning blush every time she caught their scorn.
It stung all the more whenever their eyes lingered with pity, mockery, distaste, and even a faint hostility. A few of the older retainers, who still remembered Cordelia from her childhood, offered her sympathetic looks, but the newer hires showed no such warmth.
With the Devillers family’s rising prominence over the past few years, many unfamiliar faces had joined the staff. Cordelia’s slight shoulders shrank in on themselves even further.
Her spirits sank to their lowest point the moment she was finally shown into the presence of Lord and Lady Devillers.
“Welcome, Cordelia.”
The greeting and smile were gentle, but Cordelia had already caught the wince that flitted across Lady Devillers’s face. Sitting with her back held rigid like an elegant noblewoman from Katysha as she sipped her tea, the lady’s eyes had locked onto her aunt’s mismatched shoes and loud gown. Even so, Cordelia pretended not to notice, forcing a shy smile to her lips.
Still, she was fond of Lord and Lady Devillers, who had treated her so kindly in her childhood. Those who inhabited the fond, hazy memories of her youth were few and far between, and so they undeniably belonged among the good people of her world.
Even if they found her cumbersome, uncomfortable to be around, and treated her with subtle condescension, Cordelia could not help feeling that way.
“Hello, Auntie.”
“Good heavens, you’ve grown beyond recognition. You’re quite the lovely young lady now.”
Lord Devillers praised her as he stroked his mustache, a touch of faint admiration touching his otherwise impassive face. The rare compliment lifted her spirits a little. ‘Uncle Devillers,’ once so tender and kind, had never smiled at Cordelia once after the death of his eldest son, Jean.
His calculating gaze, weighing her value, was hardly comfortable, but she paid it little mind. She was met with the very same look at home every single day. If anything, his manner was gentlemanly by comparison.
“Thank you.”
“You look the spitting image of your late mother. Marilyn would have been so proud to see you.”
Lady Devillers murmured, her eyes softening. It had been an eternity since anyone had spoken of her departed mother with fond mourning rather than bitter mockery, even if only out of politeness. With that single sentence from the lady, any lingering hurt Cordelia had harbored melted away.
At times, it was almost pathetic how easily and lightly Cordelia—having starved for affection her entire life—could feel warmth for others and forgive them.
Right on cue, her aunt cleared her throat with an obnoxious rasp, souring the mood among the other three for entirely different reasons.
“Ahem, yes, what a truly marvelous home you have.”
Left completely ignored as no one bothered to speak to her, her aunt shoved herself forward with an air of exaggerated arrogance and excitement, though the display only served to highlight her deep-seated insecurity. Lord and Lady Devillers exchanged an imperceptible glance.
The brief warmth of nostalgic affection vanished like melting snow. While Cordelia nervously bit her lip, Lady Devillers offered a polite curve of her mouth.
“Welcome. Forgive me, but how should I address you?”
“Please, call me Madame Shallow. It was my late husband’s surname.”
“I see…. Madame Shallow.”
Concealing her distaste with practiced ease, Lady Devillers offered her tea with a smile, and the four of them took their seats around the table facing one another. Her throat parched, Cordelia took a small sip of her tea. Her heart was thumping with unease. Lady Devillers cleared her throat and began.
“Cordelia. I heard you have not been well, which kept us from seeing each other often. We should have taken better care of you. Jonathan and the two of us hardly have the face to look at you.”
“Oh, not at all.”
Though it was mere courtesy, Cordelia flushed and murmured her reply. Neglected or not, their very existence had served as the sole shield of her childhood. How could she bring herself to hate them? Seeing the young maiden shake her head repeatedly, a brief flicker of faint guilt crossed Lady Devillers’s face.
“Yes…. I am glad you feel that way. In truth, the reason I asked you here today…”
“My niece has truly suffered a great deal, you know.”
Just as the lady was about to get to the point, her aunt cut in with grating impudence. The interruption was bad enough on its own, but the affected, boastful tone that followed was positively insufferable.
“Honestly, what could be harder for a tender young lady in the prime of her youth than waiting endlessly for a fiancé with no date in sight? She soaks her pillow with tears every night longing for him. But of course, the young gentleman is far too busy to spare a moment to visit his poor betrothed, isn’t he? How tragic! Times may have changed, but a lady has no choice but to wait patiently until the gentleman is ready. My niece is so absurdly old-fashioned and naive that she wouldn’t dare say she misses him first. Goodness me…”
“Aunt!”
Growing paler by the second, Cordelia cried out in a low voice. She caught her aunt’s arm to stop her, but her aunt, caught up in the thrill of holding the floor, shook her off and rambled on.
“Is it not simply cruel to keep two young people separated like this, torn apart in the prime of their lives? Cordelia is an adult now! It’s been twenty years since the engagement was arranged, so surely it’s high time the promise was fulfilled. Ask anyone on the street and they’d tell you the same! What else is there to life without romantic devotion between a man and a woman… especially for youths of their age…”
“Aunt! Please stop!”
Unable to bear any further blunders, Cordelia cut her off sharply. Her aunt shot her a displeased glare, then offered a fawning smile as she gauged the stiff expressions on Lord and Lady Devillers’s faces. Watching her clumsily handle her teacup, Lady Devillers wore a smile as rigid as plaster.
“Indeed. That is a very candid observation. Cordelia, do you feel the same way?”
“N-No, not at all. Jonathan has been more than kind to me, and…”
Though her mind felt as if it were going blank, Cordelia tried desperately to deny it. At that, her aunt clicked her tongue in annoyance and jabbed a sharp elbow painfully into her niece’s slender ribs.
“What are you talking about? Don’t talk such nonsense! Have you laid eyes on your fiancé even once since he went abroad to study? A proper man shows responsibility by marrying and remaining by his wife’s side, if you ask me. That way children come sooner, and goodness knows how much it costs to raise a child! In so many ways…”
“A child?”
As Lady Devillers offered a tight, rigid smile, her aunt beamed and chimed in.
“Why, of course! Just imagine a darling, adorable baby! It would be a grandchild to you, and a grand-niece or nephew to me!”
Oh, no…
Cordelia felt the world swim before her eyes. Through the haze, the naked disgust on the faces of Lord and Lady Devillers was unmistakable; their revulsion and horror at the thought of such a vulgar woman’s blood mingling with that of their prized heir was laid bare. Her aunt’s outrageous behavior had blown far past the limits of their charity, guilt, or sense of obligation.
Even the gentle Lady Devillers curled her lips in clear distaste.
“To be precise, it would be the Marguerite bloodline. The arrangement we made was with the Marguerite family, so your… forgive me, what did you say your name was again?”
“Shallow! Hoh-hoh-hoh, your memory isn’t quite as sharp as you look.”
Her aunt appeared quite pleased with herself, believing she had made a witty joke, but Lord and Lady Devillers’s expressions had turned utterly frigid. However much the divide between high and low had narrowed in recent years, her aunt’s insolence was a blatant offense even between peers of noble birth. Lady Devillers spoke with chilling coldness.
“From our perspective, it seems Madame Shallow is merely an outsider to this matter…. It appears there has been a misunderstanding.”