Episode 32

Matthew of the Johnston family had been in a fine mood lately. He was in the middle of marriage talks with a young lady from a family so prestigious he’d never even dared dream of it.

Bella Visena of the small city Maine was wise and mature beyond her years. If her father hadn’t once owed Matthew’s father, Stephen, a great debt during a trip, Matthew would likely have ended up proposing to one of the many eligible girls in this quiet resort town he didn’t care for.

Of course, his mother, Madam Johnston, was also quite pleased with the match.

The Visena family had visited Cliff briefly to meet Matthew. It was a short visit for various reasons, but during lunch, their graceful demeanor had left a deep impression on Madam Johnston.

So today, at the tea party, Madam Johnston was brimming with pride and ready to boast about her son’s engagement. But the moment she arrived, her gaze landed on another woman.

Lady Hanger—the one who had suddenly appeared in Cliff and, after only a week, married that scoundrel Marcus Hanger.

At first, all the ladies of Cliff had gossiped about her. What kind of proper lady agreed to marry after just one week?

But soon after, rumors spread that she was a widow, and that her marriage to Marcus was her second. That led to new speculation—that she must have married him for his money.

Not that marrying for money was much of a scandal.

Marriage was, after all, about conditions. Even Madam Johnston had chosen the Visena family because of their noble title and the prestige of having a matriarch who once served the queen.

But Marcus Hanger?

Some women pointed out that he’d been rejected by the Duchess of Bellona not long before.

“He definitely married to be near her!” they laughed.

Marcus Hanger was infamous in Cliff.

Well-mannered, handsome, and rich—but notoriously persistent. He’d declared his love to the Duchess more than once and kept getting turned down, only to try again.

Still, Lady Hanger had won over the ladies in a short time.

Her composure, elegance, and thoughtful way of speaking had earned everyone’s respect. Despite being married into the Hanger family, she never showed off.

In a social scene obsessed with flaunting every scrap of status, her modesty was refreshing. Even though she had a beautiful young daughter, she didn’t parade her around—she kept Juliet hidden, earning even more goodwill.

Yet, the moment Madam Johnston saw her, a thought seized her.

Elouise Starwood.

Bella’s mother had mentioned her name in passing.

She’d said Bella’s poise was thanks to her governess, Lady Elouise Starwood. She spoke of her with a tragic reverence—how Lady Starwood had delayed marriage to raise a slightly slow niece on her own.

How she kept up the Starwood estate despite being mired in debt, and how many whispered that her pride was just empty vanity.

The biggest scandal? That Lady Starwood had gone to Cliff in search of a match for her niece.

The people of Maine had scoffed—she’d never afford such a long holiday. But her extended absence left them bewildered. There simply wasn’t another governess like Elouise Starwood.

Madam Johnston stared at Lady Hanger and nudged Lady Bradley, who was mid-snack.

“Lady Bradley. What was Lady Hanger’s maiden name again? I remember hearing it once, but it’s slipped my mind…”

“Hmm, what was it? Cooper? Morris? I believe I heard it… Why not just call her Lady Hanger?”

Then Lady Bradley turned to call her over, but Madam Johnston quickly stopped her.

“Oh no! Don’t!”

“Why not?”

Lady Bradley blinked in confusion.

Madam Johnston then leaned in and proceeded to whisper frantically about a poor, aging woman who may have disguised her niece as her daughter, hid the girl’s condition, and infiltrated Cliff’s social scene to secure a wealthy marriage.

Lady Bradley’s eyes went wide.

“Good heavens!”

“What is it?”

Nearby, a bored Lady Palmer leaned in. Madam Johnston whispered again, and though Lady Palmer gasped in horror, her eyes sparkled with excitement.

She was, after all, Cliff’s most avid gossip collector. Her nickname in the social circle was The Archivist.

She smoothed her dress and approached Lady Hanger.

“Madam, forgive me, but may I ask your maiden name? My niece just gave birth to a daughter and hasn’t settled on a name yet—I’m collecting beautiful ones for her.”

Such tact! Madam Johnston beamed with admiration.

Lady Hanger blinked, then gave a shy smile.

“My name isn’t particularly lovely. My sister’s name is much prettier.”

“Oh my! What is her name?”

“Louise.”

“How lovely! It sounds almost Darquin in style. May I include it in my letter to my niece?”

Lady Hanger nodded modestly. Then Lady Palmer batted her lashes.

“But I’m curious about your name, too.”

“Ah… it’s Elouise. I believe it’s a variation of Louise.”

Elouise! Madam Johnston and Lady Bradley exchanged glances.

But Lady Palmer preferred to confirm any speculation.

She leaned in, smiling sweetly.

“Oh my, and what was your family name before marriage? I imagine it must have been a beautiful one, too.”

“Ah… not especially. Starwood.”

Lady Palmer shot a triumphant grin at Madam Johnston.

Madam Johnston nearly praised her out loud.

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It was the day of the fox hunt.

That said, the fox hunt in Cliff wasn’t truly a hunt. It was more of a diversion—a few already-weakened foxes were released into the nearby woods, and participants enjoyed chasing them for sport. In truth, it was less about hunting and more about enjoying good food in the countryside and mingling among gentlemen and ladies.

Some of the men captured foxes and showed off in front of the women.

“I’ll make you a beautiful scarf from this!”

In front of Lady Owen—well-known in Cliff for her virtue—two young men competed to present her their foxes. Lady Owen blushed and politely declined both. As a proper young lady, it was only right to refuse such overt advances.

As Elouise quietly watched the scene, someone rested their head on her shoulder. She yelped in surprise.

“Goodness!”

She turned around to see Marcus Hanger grinning at her.

“Why so startled?”

“Good heavens, make some noise when you approach. You scared me.”

Marcus had apparently returned from the morning’s hunt with the gentlemen.

But his hands were empty. The other men who’d failed to catch foxes at least returned with rabbits to redeem themselves. Marcus’s blue jacket and riding trousers weren’t even stained with a leaf—let alone blood.

“Didn’t catch anything?”

“Ah, madam. Summer foxes are useless, you know.”

“But those men are talking about making scarves…”

“Scarves, ha!”

Marcus laughed.

“Summer fox fur is worthless on the market. It costs more to skin them than the pelt is worth. Poor foxes. Why? Do you want a fox scarf?”

“No, not particularly…”

Elouise trailed off. Marcus tilted his head.

“Why were you staring over at Lady Owen, then? I assumed you wanted a fox scarf and was going to have Logan bring you the biggest, fluffiest one.”

“Poor Logan. Don’t make him run errands like that. And I wasn’t serious about the scarf.”

She laughed and gave Marcus a light push in the chest. Logan was nowhere to be seen—likely off tending to Marcus’s horse.

“Then why the longing gaze? Don’t tell me—you wanted to be proposed to?”

“Of course not.”

Elouise scoffed and turned away, only to glance again at Lady Owen. She was now strolling toward the forest’s tea table with both suitors flanking her, pretending not to enjoy their presence.

Her eyes crinkled in amusement.

“I was just thinking… I never got the chance to refuse.”

“Refuse who? Me?”

“Yes. It’s customary for a lady to reject a proposal at least once. It’s how she’s deemed proper and respectable.”

This time, Marcus let out a scoffing laugh.

“That’s ridiculous. If you don’t want someone, say no. If you do, say yes.”

“But if you say yes too quickly, you come off as frivolous. People like you—who’ve never felt embarrassed—just don’t understand.”

Elouise gave his nose a playful tweak, making his handsome face scrunch slightly.

“I don’t really get it,” he said.

“Of course not. Says the man who kept pursuing the Duchess even after she turned him down repeatedly.”

“That’s different. I never thought she was lying when she said no.”

“And that’s worse!”

Elouise burst out laughing. Marcus sighed through his nose, just about to wrap an arm around her waist when his brow lifted with a sudden thought.

“So what about your husband?”

“…What?”

“Your former husband. Did you reject him once, too?”

The sudden question threw Elouise off.

“Why ask that now…”

“Exactly. Why am I only curious now? Come to think of it, I don’t know anything about your first husband. What was he like? Did he propose the same way?”

“…It was… different, I suppose?”

She stumbled over her words, realizing she’d never properly imagined how to answer.

When she said she was “widowed,” people usually assumed it was a painful subject and didn’t press further. She hadn’t thought to prepare for questions. But Marcus, strangely, was persistent.

“Different how? Considering Juliet’s age, you must’ve been seventeen at most. I imagine you were more cheerful back then.”

“Why are you going on about this?”

“Because I’m curious what kind of man my wife’s first husband was. Isn’t that normal?”

His face was so genuinely serious that Elouise leaned in and whispered,

“Don’t you think you’re putting too much effort into this performance?”

“It’s not a performance. I’m genuinely curious.”

At a loss, Elouise looked around as if searching for an excuse to escape him.

That’s when she spotted the Duchess of Bellona entering the forest slowly, accompanied by a maid. Flustered, she pushed Marcus in that direction.

In that moment, she was too startled to even summon up her usual resentment toward the Duchess.

“I don’t know! Go talk to her instead!”

“But I want to hear more about you!”

People began glancing their way. Successfully deflecting Marcus, Elouise felt a dozen judging stares prickling at her back.

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