Episode 29

#7. The Whereabouts of Love

While Marcus changed out of his wet clothes and washed up, a maid brought in some yarn. Elouise had requested the purchase a while back. Marcus looked intrigued as he noticed the yarn spread across the bed.

“What’s this?”

“What do you think? Yarn.”

“Yes, but… summer’s right around the corner.”

The yarn on the bed was all wool—the kind used for winter attire. As Elouise casually organized the large knitting needles and yarn, she replied indifferently.

“Wool’s expensive in winter.”

In other words, it was for a winter cardigan.

Since wool yarn was costly, Elouise would buy it just before summer every four or five years to knit a cardigan. One would last her several years. But that only applied to her—Juliet, who kept growing each year, needed a new one every time. Marcus brushed his hand over the yarn, fascinated.

“You’re going to knit with this?”

“Yes.”

“That’s interesting. Are you starting now? Show me.”

“I wasn’t planning to, but…”

Elouise let out a short laugh as the man, still dripping from his bath, sat in front of her like an eager child. Honestly, had he ever been denied anything he wanted in his life? It made her want to give in and show him.

In the end, Elouise picked up a sea-blue skein and looped it onto the needles. Marcus scooted in close, eyes sparkling with curiosity. As she cast and knit stitch after stitch, a neat pattern began to form. Marcus was instantly hooked and whined to try it himself.

What a child. Elouise was incredulous, but handed him a spare pair of needles. And of course, she burst into laughter when he clumsily held them like a symphony conductor.

Marcus had chosen a soft pink yarn.

“Alright! I’ll make a cardigan with this and gift it to you.”

“Sure you will. A cardigan’s way too advanced for a beginner.”

“You think I can’t do it?”

“I'm glad you caught on.”

Elouise chuckled as she grabbed his hand and demonstrated how to knit a cable stitch. Oddly, no matter how many times she repeated the technique, Marcus’s hands turned stiff as stone whenever she touched them. On top of that, he kept rambling nonsense, clearly not paying attention, so Elouise grumbled in frustration.

“I thought you were supposed to be intelligent. You’re awful at this.”

“I’m no good with things that require manual skill.”

“Because you’re used to throwing money at problems instead?”

“Correct.”

Elouise laughed again and let go of his hand.

“So I’ll be wearing Marcus Hanger’s first knitted piece. Do your best.”

At that, Marcus’s eyes lit up with determination, and he focused on the pink yarn. By the time his hair had dried into a frizz, he’d managed to construct something vaguely resembling a cable stitch. It had several dropped stitches and was awkwardly bunched up, but still.

“Rip it out and start over.”

Marcus gaped at her, wide-eyed.

“But I worked hard on it. It kind of looks like a cable!”

“And that’s why you should rip it. You can’t cherish junk like this.”

Elouise burst into laughter. Marcus, pride wounded, muttered,

“‘Junk’? I gave it my all!”

“Well, even so, I’m not wearing a cardigan with that kind of cable in it. Start again.”

“My wife is a harsh woman.”

Elouise snorted.

“That’s what knitting is. You unravel and redo it countless times. If you insist on finishing something flawed, you end up with something unwearable. Better to mess up early like this.”

Marcus grimaced and started unraveling the pink yarn. Watching the once-stiff wool curl into kinks, he asked,

“Is this still usable?”

Elouise chuckled and cast the stitches back on for him.

“Don’t pull so tight. Keep it loose.”

“Loose…”

“Everything gets stiff if you grip it too hard.”

“Gets stiff…”

Marcus repeated her words as if he didn’t know what else to say. But people improve, one way or another. By the time Elouise returned to the room after changing and washing up, he’d managed to knit something decently cable-like.

“I want to show this to my sister in the capital.”

“Your sister? Oh, you mean the lady of the renowned family of jewelers…”

“Yes. She always calls me a leech.”

A leech!

Elouise nearly snorted.

To call the son of the Hanger family a leech—it wasn’t inaccurate.

She had never seen Marcus actually work in Cliff. Sure, nobles often saw labor as beneath them, but Marcus wasn’t technically nobility. Well, calling him a commoner was complicated as well.

“Was her name Clarisse?”

“No, Clarisse is a friend of my sister’s. My sister’s name is Gloria.”

“Ah…”

Gloria Deveres. Once Gloria Hanger. Elouise turned the name over in her head. Marcus, still focused on his pink cable, grumbled.

“She always lectured me that if you’re born human, you should work. Not that I never work.”

“Really? I’ve never seen you work. Now I’m curious.”

“I don’t do much.”

Marcus gave her a sheepish grin.

“My father used to be very active, but these days, the staff handles most of it. He mostly supervises. Which, of course, is the hardest job. By the time I completed my basic education, he told me to relax a bit before inheriting the household. But my sister can’t stand seeing me idle.”

“Isn’t her family in the jewelry business? If she’s the lady of such a major enterprise…”

“Exactly. She works every day, so my laziness drives her crazy.”

Marcus chuckled and immediately dropped a stitch. Elouise gave him a smug look and snatched back the pink cable to fix it. Marcus was amazed.

“When I finish this cardigan, I’ll show it off to her. She’s terrible at this sort of thing. One time when we were kids, she tore up the piece of cloth in tears, claiming embroidery wasn’t her style. I still remember that.”

“Finish it first. You just dropped another stitch.”

“Ah, no.”

The sight of this large man hunched on the bed, knitting with pink wool, was quite the spectacle.

He was still pulling the yarn too tightly, making the fabric stiff and nearly unworkable—but Elouise didn’t point it out. It was just too peaceful—and too funny—to disturb.

That peace shattered instantly with Marcus’s next question.

“What did you and the duchess talk about earlier?”

“The duchess…?”

Elouise furrowed her brow.

The duchess had claimed to be a doctor. Female doctors were rare in this country, but Elouise knew they existed. Still, she hadn’t heard anything about the duchess belonging to such a small minority. Well, that could be sorted out later.

What mattered more was—

Elouise finally understood why the duchess had tried to approach Juliet. And it unsettled her deeply.

In Maine, two doctors had also shown interest in Juliet. The first was Harris, a long-time noble physician. He had claimed Juliet was ill and needed medicine. Believing him at first, Elouise fed Juliet the bitter powder.

Convincing her to take it had been hard enough—but instead of improving, Juliet simply continued dozing off like a sick hen.

After two days, Elouise brought her back to Harris, who claimed the medicine was working. He said a peculiar child like Juliet needed sedatives to calm her. Only then did Elouise realize what the medicine really was. Outraged, she shoved the bottle in a storage closet.

The second doctor, Murray, was a newly arrived young physician.

He was worse.

After seeing Juliet, he claimed her condition required “opening the head.”

Elouise tilted her head in confusion—so he explained. He meant shaving her golden hair, cutting her scalp, and drilling into her skull.

Elouise nearly fainted.

After calling him a murderer, she returned to the Starwood estate. That night, she dug out Harris’s sedatives and mixed them into pig feed behind Murray’s house. The next day, all his pigs collapsed. Murray was reportedly horrified.

Some might say she went too far. Elouise never regretted it. That doctor’s skull was the one that needed opening.

He had basically suggested butchering Juliet—why should she have held back?

Even a day of unconscious pigs hadn’t satisfied her rage. So, it was no surprise Elouise had no fondness for doctors.

The moment the duchess revealed her status as a physician, Elouise disliked her twice as much. The thought that she might also want to open Juliet’s skull made Elouise want to leave Cliff immediately.

And now, with Marcus bringing up the duchess again, her mood soured even more. She hesitated—should she tell him?

“Elouise?”

His voice snapped her back. He looked at her, holding the pink yarn with a worried gaze. Only then did she realize how long she’d been silent.

“Oh, yes. The duchess…”

As she fumbled for words, Marcus set his knitting down and moved closer—not far, just scooting forward on the bed—but to Elouise, every inch felt significant.

“You don’t have to tell me. Unless it upset you?”

“…Not exactly.”

His concern lifted her spirits—and she hated herself for it.

The fact that Marcus cared more about her feelings than his curiosity made her feel warm. And that warmth only reminded her again that she liked him. Elouise sighed.

“I didn’t really finish the conversation. The point is, she claimed to have more to say to me… I’ll tell you everything after I meet with her again. Is that alright?”

“Of course. But if it makes you uncomfortable, decline. And don’t force yourself to see her again either, El.”

Marcus nodded gently, stroking her left cheek with his thumb. The touch felt almost scalding, and Elouise flinched.

Her startled reaction made Marcus freeze too. The atmosphere shifted abruptly, and silence fell between them.

“…You dropped another stitch.”

“I… I did. Could you help?”

Without another word, they both returned to their knitting. Marcus, still pulling the yarn too tight, had to start over several times. Elouise gave up trying to untangle the mess and eventually stuffed all the yarn back into the basket.

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The Next Morning

Elouise woke earlier than usual the next morning. She was headed to Juliet’s room, where Lady Abigail and the girl had recently begun starting their studies early.

She threw a robe loosely over her indoor clothes and was about to step out when she noticed an odd sight on the sofa. It was Marcus.

This was the first time she’d woken earlier than Marcus. Elouise found it strangely amusing.

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