Chapter 29
Trisha’s advice had been right.
It was a stroke of immense luck that Harriet had remembered the song the countess had called for at Viscount Einber’s mansion three years ago.
It seemed they had successfully cleared the first hurdle. The radiant expression on the countess’s face as she greeted Trisha was proof of that.
Of course, simply entering the party hall safely didn’t mean the challenges of the night were over. In fact, it was only just beginning. She could tell from the shocked expressions on the faces of those who recognized her.
“Harriet Listerwell? Is that really her?”
“I wondered who it was—it’s really Harriet Listerwell! With her skin condition gone, I almost didn’t recognize her.”
“Wow… was she always that pretty?”
“That’s not the point. Look at who she came with. They say Countess Felon is accompanying her!”
The whispers that started here and there soon spread to those around them, and before long, every eye in the room was fixed on Harriet. Her smooth, wavy brown hair, moist red lips, neatly manicured nails, and skin glowing with health.
The woman once called an ‘ugly duckling’ had vanished, replaced by someone who could well become a new ‘flower’ of high society.
One man, not even realizing who she was, approached and asked her to dance.
“Pleased to meet you, my lady. I’m Adam Hopfner. I know it’s rude to ask someone who’s just arrived, but I don’t want to lose my chance to someone else. Would you grant me the honor of the first dance?”
The last time she’d received a dance invitation was at fifteen, when she’d debuted at a ball with Bella, partnering with other young nobles in turn. But now, she felt no particular joy or thrill. ‘Wasn’t this man one of Bella’s admirers?’
He was the very one who had praised Bella for her flawless beauty and always looked at Harriet, covered in rashes, with utter disgust.
“Who’d want to dance with a girl like that? It’s revolting. What if her skin condition is contagious?”
Yes, he’d said something like that once.
And now, the same man was blushing as he asked her to dance, not even recognizing her now that the rashes were gone.
Harriet glanced down at the hand he extended, then looked back up at him and asked,
“You’re not worried about my skin condition being contagious?”
“Pardon?”
“I’m Harriet Listerwell. You used to be so terrified of even touching me.”
“Uh… Harriet, Listerwell…?”
Seeing his flustered expression, Harriet offered him a sweet smile and turned away.
She had no lingering feelings for the man, but there was one woman who did. A woman who had just witnessed the object of her admiration being humiliated rushed over to Harriet with a sneering tone.
“Long time no see, Miss Harriet. It feels like the last time I saw you was already a year ago. How have you been?”
Everyone knew Harriet had been sent to the convent, so the question was clearly meant to put her in an awkward spot.
But Harriet smiled brightly.
“For the past year, I’ve been at Saint Clarissa Convent, following God’s teachings, reflecting on my actions, and living a pure life. I was a bit tense coming back to Genoa, so thank you for speaking to me first. But… what was your name again…?”
The woman’s composure shattered at Harriet’s calm response, which was far from the embarrassment she’d expected. On top of that, the fact that Harriet clearly knew her but couldn’t even recall her name brought a subtle sense of defeat.
“I’m Viviana Delus. We’ve met several times. I’m surprised you don’t remember.”
“Ah, sorry. I’ve seen you around, but we were never properly introduced.”
Viviana had nothing to say. It was true. They’d never been formally introduced, and everything she knew about Harriet had come secondhand through Bella.
As Viviana hesitated, another young lady by her side launched a more direct attack.
“Do you even know how much Bella suffered because you sullied the family name?”
For a moment, anger surged in Harriet. She wanted to shout that it wasn’t her who’d dirtied the family name—it was Bella. The brooch incident with Duke Kailas hadn’t been her doing.
But losing her temper here would amount to admitting defeat.
Instead, Harriet let her eyebrows droop slightly and tilted her head.
“I truly regret my past actions. Since Uncle cut off his guardianship of me, Bella shouldn’t have faced any more trouble because of me after that.”
She spoke the word ‘regret,’ but there was no sign of genuine penitence on her face. As the young lady opened her mouth to retort, Harriet added,
“And Bella seems to be doing just fine. I heard she’s with the eldest son of the Cheslow count family…”
At those words, Bella’s friends exchanged uneasy glances for a moment.
The fact that Bella was involved with James, who was Daphne’s fiancé, had been quite a shock to them too. No matter what, they hadn’t expected angelic Bella to accept the affections of a man who already had a fiancée.
But they still believed in Bella’s innocence.
“Lady Laurel and Lord Cheslow’s relationship was already broken by then!”
“Exactly! Lord Cheslow was so devoted to Bella that she had no choice but to accept him.”
Watching them desperately defend Bella, Harriet shrugged as if she couldn’t understand.
“Who said otherwise? I was just saying she seems to have found a good match.”
Only then did they realize they’d let slip more information than necessary. Their faces flushed as they grasped how foolish they must have sounded.
Harriet smiled faintly, knowing they still hadn’t become Bella’s ‘true’ friends.
“Bella doesn’t seem to be here today. Please give her my regards. Well, I’ll be off then.”
With that, Harriet offered a polite curtsy and left them. The group left behind was utterly stunned by her drastic change in demeanor, completely caught off guard. In the past, she would have barely managed an excuse or denial, but now she acknowledged the past in a way that somehow made it feel like she had won.
“She’s completely turned into a different person. We should tell Bella about this.”
“Yeah? Oh, right, we should.”
The two clutched their fans tightly and had no choice but to turn away. But Viviana couldn’t shake her curiosity about how Harriet’s skin, once plagued by severe acne, had become so flawless. After all, her own chronic acne was one reason she hadn’t been able to approach Adam Hopfner.
After that brief clash of wits with Bella’s friends, Trisha introduced Harriet to some of high society’s heavyweights. Unlike Bella’s immature friends, these were people who truly held wealth and power in the empire.
“It’s hard to memorize all the names at once, but do your best. There’s a big difference between remembering their names the next time you meet and not.”
“And they already know my face and name anyway.”
“Exactly. When you think about it, you’re pretty famous in your own right, aren’t you?”
Harriet let out an awkward laugh, thinking Trisha was teasing her. But Trisha’s eyes were sparkling.
“Even if it’s bad publicity, everyone knows who you are. In some ways, that’s a valuable asset.”
Harriet had never thought of it that way.
“You’re right. Everyone does know me.”
Perhaps she could turn her ‘reputation’ to her advantage somehow. She didn’t have any concrete ideas yet, but it felt like something she could use someday.
Her goal for tonight’s party was to meet as many people as possible and plant the impression that Harriet Listerwell was actually a surprisingly decent person.
Even though Trisha was with her, she had far more acquaintances than Harriet, so she couldn’t stay by her side the whole time.
After sending Trisha off to her friends, Harriet moved toward the beverage table, conscious of the stares directed her way. Sangria and punch suited to a summer evening were laid out.
The lavish use of expensive ice hinted at the Vanderbilt family’s wealth.
‘I should try approaching someone who looks approachable.’
The topic of conversation didn’t matter. She just needed to prove that Harriet Listerwell could hold a normal conversation.
She took a sip of sangria mixed with soda water to dilute the alcohol and scanned the crowd for a suitable conversation partner—someone who wouldn’t glare and turn away when Harriet Listerwell approached.
In the midst of that, she spotted someone who seemed like a good candidate.
