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The capital mansion of Viscount Brian.
Marie and her companions arrived at Viscount Brian’s townhouse.
Mildred was in high spirits, visibly excited.
“Our first interior design commission at last!”
It was only natural for her to feel good—this was their very first interior design job.
“But how did Lady Brian know about you, miss?”
“Well, perhaps she saw me at the ball?”
They had received a message from Viscount Brian: he wanted to commission an interior design job and had asked Marie to visit.
“Wow, she’s entrusting her home to you after just seeing you once at a ball? That’s amazing!”
“Right? I didn’t expect to get a job this quickly either.”
“You must’ve made a very strong impression that day.”
Upon being guided to the drawing room, a woman was waiting for them.
It was Viscountess Brian, a woman in her early thirties.
“Welcome.”
She greeted them in the parlor, though her expression remained cold.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Marianne Whitehouse,” Marie said brightly, introducing herself.
But she quickly sensed the woman wasn’t in a pleasant mood.
There was no trace of the excitement or curiosity one would expect when planning a new interior.
“It feels like she’s being forced to do this…”
“This is my first time meeting the Countess of Whitehouse, isn’t it?”
“Ah, yes. I haven’t really attended any social events until recently.”
“Is that so…”
Viscountess Brian sipped her drink and gently caressed her stomach.
Marie then noticed the slight roundness of her belly.
“Your due date must be coming soon.”
“Yes. This child will be the heir of our family.”
A faint smile appeared on the viscountess’s face.
Seeing her affection for the unborn child warmed Marie’s heart.
“Ah, your first child?”
“…”
There was a subtle shift in her expression—almost like a flash of sadness.
“Was this child hard to conceive?”
Marie wondered if there was a deeper story behind it.
“I’ve called you today to commission the design of the nursery for the baby.”
“The nursery… I see.”
Of course, there was nothing wrong with hiring an interior designer just for a nursery.
But the viscountess’s cold expression still felt odd.
“No, don’t overthink it. A job is a job, no matter how small.”
This single job probably wouldn’t create much buzz.
But it was still Marie’s first official commission.
Each small project would stack up to build her career—she was sure of that.
“If I do well here, maybe I’ll get a bigger commission next time.”
If she could build a good relationship with Viscountess Brian, she might get referred to others.
After all, networking in high society was crucial.
“…”
The viscountess sipped her tea and quietly studied Marie.
“I heard she was a recluse… What’s her relationship with the Duke of Bloodstone?”
She hadn’t attended the Weatherwood ball herself—her pregnancy had made travel difficult.
And since she had been focused on prenatal care, she hadn’t heard the gossip from the ball yet.
“She gives a good impression…”
The calm and composed demeanor suited her taste.
But she was still in a bad mood—her husband had insisted they switch designers.
“Can she really handle the interior work? Even if her brother is the Earl of Whitehouse?”
Originally, she had planned to remodel the entire townhouse.
But her husband had insisted they hire Lady Whitehouse.
He claimed his life might be in danger otherwise.
“Why should I entrust our home to some unknown Lady Whitehouse?”
“Do you want to see your husband die at the hands of the Duke of Bloodstone?”
“What does the Duke of Bloodstone have to do with Lady Whitehouse?”
“…Apparently, he invested in her business.”
“He’s threatening us over a simple investment? He’s a man with money to burn! Are you sure there isn’t some hidden agenda?”
“How should I know?”
The viscountess couldn’t understand it either.
But since it was her husband’s decision, she had to at least pretend to commission Marie.
“Just this much should fulfill the promise. One room is enough.”
So she postponed the full remodel.
For now, she’d just commission the nursery.
“I’ll give the full job later to the Viscount of Peridan instead.”
They soon moved to the third floor where the nursery would be.
Following the viscountess’s direction, a door opened.
“This is the room. Please redesign it. It’s quite large, isn’t it?”
“Oh…”
Marie was slightly taken aback.
“It’s the same size as my bedroom downstairs. Well, it is for the future heir.”
The room clearly had once belonged to a child.
Toys, clothes, books—all with visible signs of use.
“I must’ve misunderstood. When you said ‘heir,’ I thought this was your first child…”
“That’s okay. That’s a natural assumption.”
The viscountess gave a bitter smile.
She was still grieving the loss of her child.
“Sean was always a weak child. But at least he didn’t suffer long. I’m just thankful I had him by my side, even for a few years.”
She stepped into the room and touched the worn belongings of her late son.
The toys trembled faintly under her fingers.
Her sorrowful gaze lingered on them.
“Greetings! Are you the one here for the interior?”
At that moment, Viscount Brian appeared in the doorway—a stout, stern-looking man.
“A bit late with the introductions. I’m Viscount Brian.”
“Hello, I’m Marianne Whitehouse.”
After greeting Marie, the viscount stood by his wife and put an arm around her.
She gently rested her head on his chest.
He didn’t seem like a warm man, but their relationship appeared to be affectionate.
“…Well, since you’re here, make it a fine room.”
“Thank you for having me. I’ll do my best.”
“And dear, remember—we’re disposing of everything in this room tomorrow.”
Sadness crossed the viscountess’s face.
“…Alright.”
Marie cautiously asked,
“You mean… everything?”
“Yes. We’re welcoming a new child. We can’t pass down the belongings of a dead one. We don’t want to invite misfortune.”
“Understood. I’ll follow your wishes as closely as possible.”
“Thank you. Now, speak with my wife about the details. Butler!”
“Yes, sir!”
“These items—see that they’re gone tomorrow.”
The viscount gave his orders and left the room.
The viscountess stared silently at the floor, her eyes filled with sorrow.
“…”
Mildred adjusted her glasses and whispered softly.
“Miss Marianne, isn’t it a bit harsh to throw away everything? I think she’ll regret it. Maybe you could persuade her.”
“Shh, she might hear you. And we can’t interfere in our client’s personal life.”
“But still…”
A moment later, the viscountess realized Marie was watching and forced a weak smile.
“Forgive me.”
“Are you truly alright with disposing of everything?”
Marie asked gently, sensing the woman’s attachment to the items.
“Yes. My husband wants that.”
“But if you don’t want to—”
“No.”
The viscountess shook her head.
“After we lost our first child, our marriage nearly fell apart.”
“Oh…”
Marie listened quietly.
That silence must have made the woman feel at ease—she continued.
“I couldn’t leave this room. I clung to his clothes, his toys… and just cried alone. My husband grew distant.”
“You went through a hard time…”
“Yes. I was deeply depressed. Eventually, even seeing my child’s things became painful. I moved to the villa to escape. We even talked about divorce.”
“That must have been very difficult.”
Marie nodded, and the viscountess’s face twisted as if she might cry.
“…It was. But this baby helped us reconnect. I sold the villa with its painful memories and returned to the townhouse just recently.”
“…”
“But I think my husband is scared I’ll become like that again. He’s worried I’ll neglect the new baby if I cling to the past.”
She gently touched the sleeves of a tiny jacket hanging nearby.
It was a cute boy’s outfit, printed with a small ball.
“…”
Her hands didn’t seem to be touching fabric—they seemed to be touching the arms of the child who had once worn it.
“I’m okay now. This new life inside me has changed everything. The thought of becoming a mother again has made me stronger.”
“But you don’t have to throw all this away…”
“No. My husband is right. If I keep seeing these things, it’ll only drag me down again.”
Marie said nothing more.
The client’s wishes seemed firm.
“I want to show him that I’ve overcome it. I can’t go against his wishes.”
“
…Understood.”
“The next time you visit, all this will be gone. It won’t interfere with your work, so don’t worry.”
As if saying farewell, the viscountess hugged the little jacket to her chest.
