Chapter 197

Chapter 197

“I’ll look into it as quickly as possible.”

“Alright.”

“It shouldn’t be too difficult. We already know her face, name, and where she lived, don’t we? I think we can figure it out in maybe a week.”

Tom expressed his confidence.

Deatrice shared the information he had read in the letter, wondering if it would help. When he mentioned that Bella Anise seemed to have been the governess of Isabella, Mr. Fromm’s daughter, and even mentioned the name of the lake she often visited, Tom, with a hint of annoyance, said that if he knew such detailed information, it should take less than three days to find out.

“But how do you know all of this?”

Suddenly, as if sensing something strange, Tom frowned and asked belatedly.

“I happened to come across letters exchanged between Bella Anise and the count in Chetworth.”

“By chance?”

“Then should I have dug around where people could see?”

Tom’s face turned into one of embarrassment.

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

“…”

“It’s almost like a twist of fate, isn’t it? That it had to catch Madam’s attention, out of all people.”

With those words, Tom bid farewell and left.

Deatrice sat in the empty room, pondering those words for a while before breaking into a smile. A twist of fate, he said. If everything they suspected turned out to be true, this wasn’t a twist of fate but more like a curse.

Deatrice had been eagerly awaiting the date Tom Wilson had mentioned. However, despite his confident promise of three days, Tom didn’t return.

She patiently counted the days for a week after Tom’s expected return, but still, there was no sign of him. During this time, she often found herself lost in thought, and she made several mistakes. Once, she accidentally burned her hand while pouring tea.

Rosalynn was alarmed by her behavior, as she saw Deatrice’s unusual conduct when she scalded her fingers with boiling water.

She kneeled down and begged, “Please, if something is wrong, just tell me, Madam.” But Deatrice simply smiled, gently took Rosalynn’s hand, and released it.

Perhaps if Lucius had been around, he would have made her sit down and wouldn’t let her leave until she told the truth. However, coincidentally, Lucius was occupied with personal matters during that time, unrelated to his duties at the palace.

Sometimes, he would return home with the scent of blood still lingering on him.

Surprised to see him, Deatrice would inquire, and with a wry smile, Lucius would respond awkwardly, “I was dealing with the game’s carcass.”

“You do that kind of work too?”

“It just happened that way.”

Saying that, Lucius awkwardly smiled, a lie that anyone could see through, but Deatrice was too absorbed in her own thoughts to notice the deception.

***

Tom returned after about two weeks.

He found Deatrice first during a time when Lucius was absent. His expression was serious, there was no sign of playfulness ashe held a small document in his hand.

Deatrice entered the reception room where Tom was waiting. Their eyes met briefly.

Upon seeing her, Tom briefly thought of the duke, and a look of disdain crossed his face.

Even before hearing Tom’s response, Deatrice could guess its content.

As soon as she took her seat, Tom began to speak.

“To cut to the chase, Bella Anise passed away quite a while ago. It seems she had been ill for some time.”

Deatrice sat in stunned silence, trying to process the sudden news. She was dead. She had died.

“When?”

She managed to ask, and Tom replied as if he had been waiting for the question.

“Over twenty years ago. Right after the count got his title.”

“So, six years ago, that woman…”

“Yes, she was an impostor. That’s confirmed.”

In Tom’s voice, she could detect a thinly veiled contempt, which made her throat tighten.

Deatrice walked over to the window, even though she had already anticipated it. Witnessing her father’s boundless vulgarity was still a difficult thing, no matter how much she had suspected.

Her hands trembled as she reached the window. She turned towards Tom, who was still standing there. Tom had expected that she would ask who the impostor was and had prepared an answer. But an unexpected question followed.

“So, how did she… I mean, the funeral, it went well, right?”

Upon learning of the tragic end, it became overwhelming. She had read the letters she had sent. After the letters, she could almost visualize Bella Anise’s life.

Contact would have ceased after the count inherited his title, and she would have been left alone to raise the child.

Then, suddenly, six years later, the count had appeared and taken the child away. Not long after, she had died.

If Bella Anise’s death had been a result of not being able to bear the weight of that reality…

Deatrice wished that at the very least, the ending had been well-mourned by the people who cared about her.

Tom remained silent for a moment, nodding his head.

“A priest who was a family friend conducted the funeral. However, he mentioned something strange. Bella Anise… got married.”

“Married?”