TLMS 23

Chapter 23

“When Aunt Anne died.”

Eugenia’s eyes, as she turned to look at me, gleamed sharply.

“You said that painting was on the floor, right? The one of Alice falling into the water.”

“Yes, that’s correct….”

I glanced at Eugenia’s face and answered vaguely. There was no need to lie, so I thought it better to tell the truth.

And that turned out to be the right decision. Her next words proved it.

“I heard from the other maids that the one who first found that painting was Ellie, isn’t that right?”

If I had tried to dodge it with something like “I don’t know anything about that,” I would’ve been in serious trouble. It was clear Eugenia already knew everything and was only confirming the facts.

“Yes. At the time, the frame was damaged, and I was scolded by Mrs. Pierce, the housekeeper.”

“Was it really that painting?”

Eugenia ignored my answer and instead nodded toward the painting hanging on the wall.

“At a glance, they all look similar, don’t they? They’re not colorful watercolors or oils—just scribbles in ink. The paper is all the same yellowed shade too. It’d be easy to mix them up if you weren’t careful.”

The Punishment of Alice series was more detailed than Eugenia’s description of “scribbles,” but it was true that at a glance, the paintings did look similar.

But I had looked closely at it back then. There was no way I could have mistaken it.

“No. I’m sure it was that painting.”

“I see.”

After hearing my answer, Eugenia didn’t press the issue further. It seemed she had never truly suspected I had mistaken it in the first place.

“Since you’re in charge of the study, you’d know for sure. On the day Aunt Anne died, did anyone touch this frame? Or did you take it down for cleaning and forget about it because the mansion was in chaos after her death?”

“It’s possible someone moved it without my knowledge….”

I suppressed a rising irritation and answered politely. Do they think I’m a fool?

“I definitely did not touch it myself first.”

“Right, I suppose not.”

This time too, she accepted my words without objection. It seemed less like suspicion and more like simple fact-checking.

“But….”

What now? Was she going to ask whether I believed it was a ghost, or whether I thought it was the curse of Old Lady Alice? While I was thinking that, Eugenia said something entirely unexpected.

“This painting—Alice falling into the water—is barefoot.”

At her words, I unconsciously looked at the painting again. She was right.

Alice was depicted upside down, disgracefully plunged into the water. From the waist up—no, up to her knees—she was submerged, so only her legs and feet were visible above the surface. And her feet were bare, without stockings or shoes.

But I had only focused on the overall image of Alice falling into the water, so I had never paid attention to such details.

“I heard from others that Aunt Anne was barefoot when she died.”

“That’s what I heard as well.”

Anne had died after I came to the Plenigan estate, but I had never seen her body myself. I only knew what I had been told.

Eugenia seemed to be thinking for a moment. She stared at the painting in silence, then finally spoke.

“…Surely Aunt Anne didn’t imitate this painting and take off her shoes on purpose. No, if I say that, it would mean she really did commit suicide. That’s definitely not it.”

Then she turned abruptly to look at me.

“Ellie, what do you think?”

“Pardon?”

“I don’t believe Aunt Anne committed suicide. I also don’t believe she simply slipped from the balcony like people say. Just like I told you before.”

“But if she was barefoot when she died, doesn’t that mean she was inside her room and fell? If someone had lured her outside and pushed her into the pond, she would have been wearing shoes.”

I had heard from other maids that the police concluded Anne’s injuries were consistent with a fall from a height. So Eugenia’s theory—that someone lured her out and pushed her into the water—was incorrect.

However, if one ignored that detail, it was still a plausible suspicion. Her room was locked, and the key was found in her pocket, which could suggest she locked the door herself before going out.

But still, many things remained unexplained.

“It was pouring rain the day Lady Anne died. So I don’t think she would have gone out to meet anyone. Even if she had something important to discuss, standing outside in such heavy rain doesn’t make sense.

There were many empty rooms in both the east and west wings. There was no need to meet outside in the rain. Even if someone asked her to, wouldn’t it be more natural to meet indoors where it was dry?”

“I heard Lady Anne was extremely drunk that day? Maybe she just didn’t care about the rain and went out anyway. That would explain why she didn’t put on shoes, and even why she left the window open while it was raining.”

“But if she was drunk enough to forget her shoes, wouldn’t it be more strange that she locked her door properly and put the key in her pocket?

I don’t drink, so I don’t know how drunk people behave, but I feel like locking a door would be harder than putting on shoes.”

At my response, Eugenia silently stared at me for a moment. I worried briefly that I had said something wrong.

After all, Anne was her cousin. A maid speaking so freely about her mistress’s family might not sit well with her.

“Ellie….”

Eugenia suddenly let out a scoff.

“You’re not a fool after all.”

What—so she really thought I was a fool?

While I grumbled inwardly, Eugenia smiled faintly and turned back to the painting. Even so, she continued speaking to me.

“So you’re analyzing her behavior on the day she died, unlike the other maids who just talk about ghosts or curses of Old Lady Alice. Interesting.”

Only then did I realize I had stood out too much. Even though Eugenia wasn’t looking at me directly, I had the feeling her sharp eyes were still observing me.

“Then, do you know anything else?”

“Oh, um. I don’t really know… I just heard things by chance. I even thought maybe it was a curse….”

I tried to cover it up, but it was too late. Eugenia turned sharply toward me, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she scanned me from head to toe.

“Ellie, you said you came here after Irene’s funeral, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct….”

I wasn’t sure what she was getting at, so I trailed off cautiously. But instead of clarifying, she changed the subject again.

“I heard from the other maids that Irene hanged herself under that painting—<Alice, pretending to be learned, is struck by books thrown by people>.”

“And when Aunt Anne drowned, that painting—<The lewd Alice who flirted with men is flipped upside down into water>—was found on the floor. So what do you think?”

“Pardon? What do I think…?”

“I mean me.”

Eugenia tapped her chest.

“You said earlier you wondered if it might be a curse, right? Then isn’t there no one in this house more deserving of a curse than me? I go against everything the Plenigan family forbids.

What do you think, Ellie? If I suddenly died, which painting do you think would be found on the floor?”

“Even if you ask me that….”

It was an impossible question. I didn’t believe in curses anyway, and even if I did, I couldn’t very well say something like, “Based on your behavior, this or that painting would suit your death.”

“Fufu, I’m joking. No need to look so stiff.”

Eugenia burst into laughter and walked lightly toward the door. Then, as if remembering something, she added:

“Oh right, Ellie. Not sure if you’ve heard this.”

“Yes?”

“The Count of Penwood staying in this mansion.”

Eugenia stared directly at my face, as if trying to read my reaction. But all I could see in her expression was amusement.

“My uncle Edward apparently suggested to the Count of Penwood that he become his nephew-in-law.”

“Pardon?”

The words didn’t make sense at first. They scattered in my mind.

“I’m not involved in that, by the way. The uncles aren’t very interested in me since I don’t carry the Plenigan name.

You probably know this now, but the daughters of the Plenigan family aren’t allowed to choose their own lovers. We marry whomever our elders decide.

In that sense, the Count of Penwood already knows our family, and as a nobleman, he would be quite a suitable match for Sister Jane or Sister Delia. What do you think, Ellie?”

Eugenia asked as if seeking my opinion, but before I could answer, she left the study.

I stood alone in the room, thinking over everything she had said—from Anne’s death to the matter of the Count of Penwood.

Did she say all that because she knows something about me or Ian? Was she testing me?

I couldn’t figure out Eugenia’s intention. Every word and action of hers was impossible to read.