Chapter 50
~Chapter 50~
Benedict had assured himself that he would be fine, yet a strange tension hung in the air as he sat facing Cedric in the reception room of the Kailas Ducal Mansion.
Only after chatting idly for over thirty minutes did he casually shift the topic to someone else’s news, as if lightly sharing his own recent updates.
“By the way, do you know Viscount Livingston?”
“I think I’ve heard the name. Isn’t he the one who built up some wealth in construction?”
“Oh, you knew? His son runs a logging company, and they say he’s quite capable.”
“Is that so.”
Since Cedric didn’t bring up the land development project first, Benedict had no choice but to raise the main point himself.
“…You’ll need logging services for the Alkines Land Development project, won’t you?”
The topic had flowed from the logging company to land development, making Benedict’s intentions as plain as day.
But Cedric merely nodded lightly.
‘Arrogant brat. When your uncle brings it up, shouldn’t you at least snap it up?’
Benedict barely suppressed the urge to click his tongue.
“If you haven’t settled on a company yet, how about the Livingston family’s? The viscount is trustworthy, and they say his son has considerable insight.”
“Well. I can’t make a decision based solely on hearsay.”
“I may not look it, but I’m your uncle. Isn’t my recommendation enough?”
Cedric was being pressed to sign a contract worth three million dirham on a mere word from someone. He couldn’t tell if his uncle was truly naive or simply saw him as an easy target.
‘Probably the latter.’
Cedric replied with natural ease, his expression serene.
“Tell them to bring a business proposal.”
“A proposal? Why would you need that? You’re the one planning the business—they just have to chop down the trees.”
“Haha, Uncle, you haven’t changed a bit. You do love your jokes. You know full well that a business plan involves far more than that.”
Matching Benedict’s lighthearted tone, Cedric continued indifferently.
“What equipment they’ll use, where they’ll source the manpower, how they plan to transport and process the felled timber… Those are the absolute basics. Any proper company should already have all that figured out.”
“True, but… isn’t that just a waste of time?”
“The Alkines project isn’t urgent. Pass along that Viscount Livingston should prepare a thorough proposal and formally request a meeting.”
Benedict’s expression hardened at Cedric’s polite refusal.
“…Understood. The viscount will be quite disappointed.”
“What’s there to be disappointed about? Thanks to your introduction, Uncle, he’s getting a meeting opportunity. He’ll surely see that as a huge favor in itself.”
As Cedric spoke as if bestowing a grand favor, Benedict had to concede that this nephew was no one to be easily manipulated.
‘Pretending to be dim-witted while scheming behind the scenes… Just like his father.’
Benedict left the room with a far stiffer expression than when he’d entered.
Once his footsteps faded down the corridor, Cedric let out a low, hollow chuckle.
“Do those sorts of people actually think they’re businessmen? They’re not even as good as Harriet Listerwell.”
He already knew everything there was to know about the Livingston son. Despite the family’s wealth and renown in the construction industry, the son’s company had failed to make its mark because he was utterly incompetent, even with the family name propping him up.
As Cedric shook his head, thinking of Benedict and the Livingston family, his aide approached.
“The logging contract with the Wellburns is nearly finalized. Should we put it on hold?”
“No need. We won’t be hearing from the Livingston side.”
The aide nodded and started to withdraw, then paused as if struck by a thought.
“Ah, and the remodeling of the shop on Seriol Street is complete. Miss Listerwell inspected it herself yesterday.”
“Quick work.”
“Efficient, too. Honestly, I’d pegged her as just another noble lady clueless about the real world….”
“She’s not one to underestimate. Think about it—even businessmen with five years under their belts resort to slipping bribes to push contracts, but she showed up with a rock-solid proposal and a nondisclosure agreement.”
She had balanced an uneven negotiation with nothing but confidence and sincerity.
Cedric couldn’t help wondering just how far she would go.
“Have Sir Austin oversee the site in person. Report any issues right away.”
“Yes, understood.”
With that, Cedric rose from his seat. He had just entrusted Harriet’s venture to his most trusted aide.
Harriet’s tea party took place at the end of August, as the summer heat finally began to wane.
The venue was the garden of Count Fellen’s mansion.
White cloths were draped throughout the garden to create shade, and beneath them stood four exquisite tea tables adorned with flowers and lavish treats.
They had originally planned for three tables but added a fourth when more guests arrived than expected.
‘I figured two or three would be a blessing, but everyone who showed up must have been more desperate than I thought?’
The fact that five from Bella’s circle had attended today was a major coup.
Harriet smiled to herself, watching them sit awkwardly apart, pretending not to know one another.
Still, the young ladies she had met at Annabelle’s tea party filled most of the seats, lending the gathering a cheerful, warm atmosphere.
“Thank you all so much for coming today. It’s my first tea party, so it may fall short in places, but I hope you all have a wonderful time.”
Harriet’s greeting was met with enthusiastic applause from Annabelle and her friends.
Even without their goodwill, a group of young ladies around the same age always had endless topics to share, so the party progressed smoothly. The tea brought by the attendants and the desserts on the three-tiered trays were superb.
Of course, they hadn’t come solely to sip tea.
“By the way, Harriet,” Annabelle finally took the lead, unable to resist the mounting pressure from those around her.
“You really won’t tell us?”
“Hm? Tell you what?”
“Oh, come on, don’t play coy. You promised to spill later how your skin got so flawless.”
“Oh, that?”
Harriet clapped her hands together as if it had only just come to mind.
But rather than answer right away, she signaled to the maids standing a short distance away. They brought over carefully wrapped gifts and handed one to each lady.
“I was going to hand these out at the end of the party, but since you’re all so curious, I’ll reveal them now. What I just gave you is the secret behind my skin.”
“Oh my? What’s this?”
The ladies eagerly unwrapped their presents. Inside each was a single bar of soap wrapped in oiled paper and a small glass bottle of skin toner.
“I truly believe it was divine guidance that led me to St. Clarissa Convent. I’d suffered from hives and acne for over seven years, but after using the soap they make there, my skin cleared up completely in just three months.”
“Oh my goodness, really?”
Harriet nodded vigorously.
“Of course, I also adjusted my diet quite a bit. I think that’s important too. But without this soap and toner, I don’t think I could have recovered perfectly.”
As she spoke, the ladies busily sniffed the soap and ran their fingers over its surface.
But a few who were accustomed to luxury products eyed it skeptically.
“I’ve had good results with Ravonaz cleanser. I’m not sure this could be any better….”
“Right? I’ve tried Elinas and DuBois products too, but nothing as dramatic as what Harriet’s describing. And this isn’t even from a cosmetics company….”
It was exactly the response Harriet had anticipated.
She nodded in understanding and picked up the bar of soap before her.
“When I first got this soap at the convent, I had the exact same thought as all of you. But I resolved to gratefully accept even such a humble gift. At first, we weren’t even allowed to take the soap home.”
The soap that Sister Sophia had carefully sliced with a cutter was a simple rectangular block, stamped in the center with only the St. Clarissa Convent seal.
Compared to the pretty, smoothly rounded soaps used by noble ladies, it looked quite crude and rough.
“But I actually worked in the workshop where this soap is made. So I can say with full confidence: it’s practically a work of art.”
“What? Harriet, you worked in a soap workshop?”
“Yes. At the convent, they encourage labor as a form of meditation. They don’t impose it on nobles, but I joined in to calm my mind and reflect on my past.”
That revelation astonished the guests even more than the soap’s efficacy.
