LPST 22

Chapter : 22

For some reason, Windsor felt that Jacqueline’s smile wasn’t truly a smile as he accepted the handkerchief she offered. Wiping his hands, he spoke casually.

“I was merely checking what Benjamin has been learning lately. Didn’t you say I should take an interest in my nephew?”

At that, Jacqueline’s expression softened slightly. He still couldn’t tell when she would get angry and when she would calm down. Like a storm, she came and went without warning.

“Why did Viscount James Hemington come to see Lord Preston?”

Windsor, who had been about to pass her, stopped in place. Slowly turning his head, he stared intently at Jacqueline.

“You know him?”

She hesitated, choosing her words, then let out a small sigh. A voice tinged with resignation slipped through her lips.

“Did he, by any chance, talk about a mine? A piece of land inherited from his ancestors that supposedly produces high-purity iron? Did he say his wife is ill and he urgently needs money, so he’s looking for someone to buy the mine? That he’d sell it below market price if paid in cash? That he came to you first because you’re trustworthy, and that it must be kept secret from others?”

As her words continued, Windsor’s expression subtly changed. He clasped his hands behind his back, his posture more like that of a disciplined naval officer than a noble.

“Exactly. He said the same thing, word for word.”

As if she had expected it, Jacqueline gave a bitter smile.

“He’s a con artist. Ah… don’t ask how I know. I didn’t want to know either.”

Windsor’s brows drew together faintly, his blue-gray eyes darkening.

Jacqueline awkwardly touched the back of her neck. The man had a strange talent for getting what he wanted through silence alone.

“In fact, my father was deceived by him. Fortunately, Uncle Walter—ah, I mean Count Greenwood—told us he was a fraud, so we only lost the deposit. We almost lost a fortune. It was a blessing in disguise.”

“Then how is someone who should be in prison walking freely in the streets?”

Jacqueline looked down the empty corridor, as if tracing the path Hemington had taken.

“James disappeared for a while, and more importantly, my father didn’t want to report it.”

“Lord Somerset? Why not?”

Windsor asked, clearly unable to understand. Jacqueline looked at him quietly.

Their gazes met in midair. Without realizing it, she curled her lips into a faint smile.

Despite his striking appearance, Windsor was likely a man of great strength. Even after taking the Preston name, he had lived a life unrelated to the marquisate.

He must have faced countless hardships Jacqueline couldn’t even imagine. Just the fact that he was “the son raised alone by an opera singer” hinted enough that his past had not been easy.

Yet he had become a naval officer through his own efforts, and now he was the Marquis of Preston.

With that indifferent face, he must have overcome obstacle after obstacle.

Compared to him, her father had been like a plant in a greenhouse—a man born the eldest son of a count’s family, inheriting the title as a matter of course.

He had jumped into various businesses, following the trends, because everyone else did. It was considered foolish not to grow one’s wealth.

But none of them had succeeded. Where some gained money, others inevitably lost it—and unfortunately, Baron Somerset had been among the latter.

Without the title inherited from his father, he was nothing. Realizing this, the Count of Somerset had fallen into deep despair.

At the first obstacle he ever faced, he collapsed. And he blamed himself for everything.

Only after starting a New World venture did he regain some vitality—but that too ended in tragedy.

Having quietly retraced her father’s past, Jacqueline pressed her lips together.

“My father didn’t want to admit that he had been deceived by a cunning fraud. He believed that if it became gossip, his honor as a count would be tarnished. So he hid the fact to the very end. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one. That’s probably why the man can still walk around freely.”

Windsor nodded once. He couldn’t understand Somerset’s actions, but he knew that for nobles, honor sometimes mattered more than money.

“So be careful, Lord Preston. Whatever James Hemington told you, don’t fall for it. Even his title of viscount might be a lie.”

“I have a suspicious nature.”

The sudden remark made Jacqueline’s eyes widen. Windsor continued calmly.

“Do you know how many people come to me every day, proposing partnerships or promising excellent investment opportunities?”

Instead of answering, Jacqueline simply looked at him. Whatever she imagined, the reality was likely worse. Sweet honey always attracts flies.

It was evident from the constant stream of carriages stopping at the mansion and the bundles of letters delivered daily.

“Just this morning, someone promised me guaranteed principal and at least tenfold returns every year.”

“……”

“I’m not well-versed in business, but I’m not naïve enough to believe such absurd lies.”

Jacqueline said nothing, simply watching him. Windsor raised an eyebrow slightly, a brief crease forming on his forehead before disappearing—an oddly sensual sight.

“James Hemington claimed he had just arrived in the capital. Said he came straight from the train station to my residence without stopping anywhere else. That it was urgent, and he couldn’t give me much time to think.”

“And?”

“But his shoes were spotless—without a trace of mud. Far too clean for someone who supposedly walked the dirt roads of Hamswood.”

Caught off guard, Jacqueline parted her lips.

“Ah, um…”

After a brief silence, she spoke as if offering a rebuttal.

“Perhaps he cleaned his shoes before coming? Since he was meeting you. Or maybe he took a carriage to the station—then he wouldn’t have had to walk on dirt roads.”

“That’s possible. However, the train from Hamswood—where the quarry is—to the capital only runs three times a week. And today isn’t one of those days.”

“Ah.”

Jacqueline looked at Windsor with newfound eyes. Since he had only recently entered high society, she had assumed he was as ignorant of business as her father.

There were many swindlers in the world who preyed on the naïve, and she had worried he might follow in her father’s footsteps.

But that worry had been unnecessary. He wasn’t someone easily deceived. Her gaze softened.

“That’s a relief. I won’t have to worry about being dismissed because the Preston family goes bankrupt overnight.”

After making the joke, Jacqueline started walking. Then, as if something occurred to her, she turned back.

“You said you’re suspicious—so I have to ask. Did you investigate me as well?”

Her eyes narrowed. Watching her, Windsor pulled out a pocket watch and checked the time before speaking in a flat tone.

“I have work to attend to. I’ve already wasted nine minutes in this corridor. I have documents to respond to by today, so I’ll take my leave.”

With that, Windsor headed up the stairs. His manner almost seemed like he was fleeing, making Jacqueline’s eyes grow more suspicious.

“Hm.”

“Ah, Miss Jacqueline, there you are.”

Just then, Mrs. Ritz appeared from across the corridor and called out to her.

Jacqueline withdrew her gaze from Windsor’s retreating figure and put on a gentle smile, as if nothing had happened.

“What is it, Mrs. Ritz?”

She looked every bit the perfect young lady. Instead of answering immediately, Mrs. Ritz took a quiet breath, hesitating for a long time as if about to say something difficult.

There was no lady of the house in the Preston family. As a result, the head maid had to take on that role.

Especially with a banquet approaching, her tension had reached its peak. The smallest detail could affect the family’s reputation.

Moreover, this would be their first party held in the capital—and it was to celebrate Benjamin’s birthday. There could be no mistakes.

Her pride versus the Preston family’s reputation.

She had struggled with the dilemma for a long time. As the day approached, she lost her appetite, couldn’t sleep, and even suffered stomach pains.

At last, she decided to set aside her pride. After all, a head maid should value her master’s reputation above her own.

Mrs. Ritz finally opened her tightly closed lips, her voice steady.

“You’re aware the banquet is in two days, correct?”

“It’s already that soon? Time really flies.”

Still not understanding her intention, Jacqueline looked at her questioningly. Taking another deep breath, Mrs. Ritz spoke with difficulty.

“If it’s not too much trouble… would you be willing to review the preparations, Miss Jacqueline?”

“!”

Jacqueline’s eyes widened in surprise. She hadn’t expected such a request.

At the same time, she realized how much thought must have gone into asking it—and how difficult it must have been to say.

“If I can be of help, I’d be happy to.”

So she nodded without hesitation. Jacqueline wasn’t stingy with her help, nor was she cold enough to ignore someone in need.

Color slowly returned to Mrs. Ritz’s pale face. Smiling softly, Jacqueline took a step forward.

“Shall we?”

“Miss Jacqueline, the banquet hall is this way.”

Mrs. Ritz stopped her as she began walking in the opposite direction. After taking a few steps, Jacqueline turned back.

“I know. I just want to walk from the entrance like a guest invited to the banquet.”

Only then did Mrs. Ritz nod and quietly follow behind her, moved by a thoughtfulness she hadn’t even considered.