Ch#75
Ch#75
Ch#75
~Chapter 75~
Viviana nodded with a smile, but Harriet could sense the faint hesitation hidden behind it.
“Yeah. I’m fine. What’s there not to be okay with? I don’t have feelings for Adam anymore, and I’m not Bella’s friend either.”
Her words sounded confident, but Harriet saw right through them. That smile—brave though it appeared—concealed unease. Perhaps Viviana wasn’t entirely sure herself. Seeing Adam again might stir something up inside her. It might hurt. The moment she faced him, she might waver or even want to run away.
But even knowing that, Viviana had made her choice. She had chosen to confront it. To step into that room at the party, where people might judge her, where those who had once mocked her behind her back might be waiting.
Harriet gazed at her friend with admiring eyes. Viviana was fighting to reclaim control over her own life. That small step forward, that moment of courage, deserved respect.
Harriet grinned widely and reached out to take Viviana’s hand.
“Then,” she said firmly, “let’s make a proper showing.”
“Make a showing?” Viviana asked, puzzled. “What do you mean? To whom?”
“To Bella. To Adam. To everyone who thinks you’ll show up flustered, in tears, falling apart… Let’s show them just how wonderful Viviana Drus really is. Let’s prove that you’re more beautiful, more confident, and stronger than ever before.”
Harriet clenched her fist with steely determination, like someone gearing up for battle. Viviana shot her a skeptical look, but soon a soft laugh escaped her lips. It was hard to resist Harriet’s enthusiasm.
Meanwhile, Trisha had to decline the invitation to the Loral family party.
“If I go and spend the whole night coughing my lungs out, it’ll just make everyone uncomfortable.”
The medicine had suppressed her coughing fits, but only when she was resting. Any exertion brought them right back. The risk was too great.
“So go in my place and give them my regards.”
“That won’t be hard. But… you’ve hardly gone out at all lately. Is your health getting worse?” Harriet asked, her face full of worry.
“Nonsense.” Trisha waved her hand dismissively. “I’m getting older, that’s all. It’s natural to spend more time at home. Besides, no one at a party wants to see an old woman like me anyway.”
It was an obvious excuse. Harriet didn’t buy it for a second. She only had to look at the pile of invitations arriving at the house to know the truth. Trisha was still very much sought after and welcomed in high society.
But Harriet didn’t argue. She just smiled.
“Count Laurel and his wife will surely be disappointed. Still, I’ll pass on your regards and make sure everything goes smoothly, just as you said. Rest well while I’m gone.”
When Harriet gently took Trisha’s thin, wrinkled hand, she noticed the gleam in her eyes. Was it because of Harriet’s tender touch—or growing fear of the future ahead?
As Harriet left the room, Roxana followed her out into the hallway. She clearly had something to say.
The moment the door closed, Harriet turned. “Roxana… Grandmother’s health really is deteriorating, isn’t it?”
Roxana hesitated for a moment before slowly nodding.
“Her strength is fading. Unfortunately, there’s no sure cure for the lady’s illness. Right now, we’re focusing on managing the pain and slowing the progression.”
A heavy silence settled between them. Harriet felt her chest tighten. Trisha was more than just a guardian. She was like a second mother.
“She means the world to me,” Harriet murmured, more to herself than to Roxana. “I’m scared.”
Roxana, who usually maintained a calm and resolute demeanor, awkwardly patted Harriet’s shoulder in comfort.
“She may not fully recover her health,” she said softly. “But with proper care, she could live another ten years.”
“Is there a painkiller that works well for Grandmother?”
“Nothing ideal yet. But the pharmaceutical companies are making progress, so I’m hopeful a better option will come soon.”
Harriet nodded quietly, still struggling to accept reality.
People die. That’s life. But knowing it didn’t make it hurt any less. Trisha was sixty-six—if she lived another ten years, that would surpass the average lifespan for noblewomen. Harriet should be grateful.
But she wasn’t ready to say goodbye. She couldn’t imagine a world without Trisha.
Lifting her head, Harriet noticed Roxana’s pale skin and the dark circles under her eyes. Roxana managed the household while tending to Trisha day and night with utmost devotion. It was no wonder she looked exhausted.
Suddenly, Harriet felt selfish.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Roxana raised an eyebrow. “For what?”
“For worrying you. For not being more help.”
“You’re already doing more than enough, miss,” Roxana replied. “If you want to help, just stay out of trouble from now on.”
Harriet smiled at the familiar sarcasm.
It was Roxana’s way of saying, “You’re doing well, so don’t push yourself too hard.”
Harriet let out a light laugh and watched Roxana head back to her room. She whispered to herself, “I’ll do my best. I promise.”
Back in her room, Harriet picked up the letter she had been reading earlier.
「I can’t let more people suffer because of Bella Listerwell. I will support Miss Viviana.
However, if either of you tries to use Daphne for your own gain, I will withdraw my support without hesitation.」
It was a letter from Melody Ruth, Daphne’s close friend.
‘Just as I expected,’ Harriet thought. ‘Melody’s weak to emotional appeals. I didn’t think she’d agree so easily.’
Harriet and Viviana didn’t belong to any particular social circle. They might chat and exchange greetings with Annabelle’s group at parties, but they wouldn’t truly fit in.
Harriet wouldn’t have cared under normal circumstances. But Viviana wasn’t used to standing alone.
That was why Harriet had reached out to Melody. She knew Melody didn’t particularly like her—but Melody disliked Bella even more.
Harriet had explained Viviana’s story honestly. Heartbroken by love, deceived by Bella, abandoned by high society. All she asked was that Melody ensure Viviana wasn’t treated like a villain.
Melody had agreed. It lifted a weight off Harriet’s shoulders.
Daphne and Melody’s group was just as influential as Bella’s. If Viviana walked in with them, wearing a beautiful dress and radiating confidence, even Adam wouldn’t be able to ignore her.
‘It’s not complicated,’ Harriet thought. ‘But it’s effective. Especially on vulgar types like Adam Hoffner.’
She had seen it firsthand. How a woman’s clothes, behavior, and speech could change the way high society looked at her. Harriet had experienced that shift herself.
Now it was Viviana’s turn.
‘And I can’t show any weakness either,’ Harriet resolved. ‘I have to match her.’
She opened her wardrobe and scanned the neatly hung dresses. There was one she had never worn—a beautiful pink dress with trendy details.
The kind a confident, popular girl would wear. Harriet had hesitated before, unsure if it suited her.
But for this party, it was perfect.
She took it out and hung it prominently in view.
‘It’s flashy, but… I need to keep up with the others. I don’t want to look like a moth in a room full of butterflies.’
The party was two days away.
The night of the Loral family party arrived. It was the first such event in a year and seven months.
Carriages lined the street in front of the mansion. Noble families arrived one after another in their finest attire.
Harriet stood in line beside Viviana, hands clasped demurely in front of her. She could feel the tension building.
“I hope Daphne’s okay,” she whispered. “If she shows even a hint of sadness, people will gossip behind her back.”
In high society, even sympathy could be cruel.
“You sound just like Daphne herself with that worry,” Viviana teased.
“I just hate seeing Bella keep hurting people. Every time someone suffers because of her, I want to scream.”
Viviana giggled. “Worry about yourself for once. You know people still call you the ‘scandal maker.’”
“I don’t care.”
“Exactly,” Viviana said. “You ignore your own worries. But think of it as a scar, okay?”
Harriet blinked, caught off guard by the insight. But before she could respond, it was their turn to enter.
The grand hall stretched out before them, and Harriet drew in a breath.
It was a sight to behold.
Crystal chandeliers sparkled from the ceiling. True masterpieces hung on the walls, capturing every gaze. Even though spring hadn’t arrived, elegant flowers overflowed from glass vases everywhere.
The chairs and sofas scattered throughout the hall looked brand new, their fabrics smooth and untouched. Under the soft golden lighting, everything gleamed.
Count Laurel had clearly spared no expense. He had turned the party into a spectacle. Perhaps to show that Daphne hadn’t crumbled, that their family hadn’t been swayed by scandal.
Harriet looked around. The guest list was extensive. And unusually, there were more young people than usual.
It promised to be a night to remember.
