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“…this place is used as a depository, where collected paintings and other valuables are stored. However, with a bit of renovation, it can be transformed into a ballroom.”
Deatrice pondered. “Are there any social circles here who actively participate in gatherings?”
“Yes, madam. People here would take turns holding parties, although they usually wouldn’t be anything too grand. May I recommend associating with the newly wedded couple of the Henderson family? They own no estates whatsoever, but they are fairly decent nobles.”
The butler bowed, “If the madam wishes, I can set an appointment for an introduction.”
“Sure, I’ll find out more and get in touch with them.”
It was Deatrice’s duty as the new mistress of the manor to know and understand how things are run inside the place. Hence, the butler brought her to the guest rooms, the study, the kitchen, and many more as she had diligently followed him and hung on to his every word.
Meanwhile, Lucius, who was also tailing the two of them, halted his steps and stood behind them disgruntledly. Then he said, “That’s enough. Take her to the room and call for a doctor.”
The butler, startled by the sudden command, stopped walking as well and asked.
“Is the madam unwell?”
“She had a fever on the way here.” He clarified, and upon thinking one wasn’t enough, he told the butler, “Gordon’s skills don’t seem all that reliable, bring a few more doctors.”
“Lucius—I’m alright!” Deatrice pulled at his sleeve and whispered sternly.
She didn’t need to lower her voice for him to know she was upset with him.
But after walking for a long time, her face had started turning pale and it was becoming quite difficult to hide. Her temperature might even be rising as we speak. Lucius felt a slight annoyance at Deatrice being so irrationally stubborn.
He looked at her with a deadpan expression, “You can’t even walk properly, how do you expect me to think you’re alright? What if it became worse?”
She let go of her hand that was holding on to his sleeve. “I go to the temple every week to pray. The high-ranking priests there would’ve noticed if there were any abnormalities in my body.”
“What does that have to do with all of this? You are sick, end of discussion.”
He urged her to get inside the room.
But as the couple started to bicker, the other servants, who were supposed to tour the lady around the house, showed bewildered expressions on their faces as they exchanged glances with each other.
Then… What were they supposed to do?
To call the doctor or not?
Usually, when the masters are quarreling, the servants should know how to read the situation and either continue with their work or disappear like the wind. But it has only been a day since the lady arrived and they simply stood there, confused.
Tom, who was always supposed to be somewhere near Lucius, couldn’t instruct them either because he was still currently running around because of the unfinished garden.
The butler made a hasty shooing gesture. Then, the servants rapidly left the room and dutifully waited by the hallway.
After the door closed, Deatrice turned and spoke to Lucius.
“I should at least know my way around the manor. Was it so hard to wait for that?”
First impressions mattered a lot. Deatrice didn’t want the servants to see her as a weak woman and therefore, wouldn’t take her seriously. Which is why she was so adamant against calling for help in front of so many eyes.
She didn’t bother to hide the slightly irritated tone of her voice towards him because he had messed up her plans.
However, Lucius softened his stance and asked calmly, “Then, promise me you’ll see the doctor when everything is over?”
“What?”
“I will admit that I’m being too much. But in return,” he compromised, “you should stop insisting on not seeing a doctor.”
It was completely different from when he appeared a little reckless in front of the servants. Deatrice soon realized it was all an act, and calling a doctor in front of the servants to make it appear like he cared a lot was his original intention all along.
“Don’t be so nice to me, I’m not your little sister.”
Hearing her cold tone, he uttered comfortingly, “I’m just worried about you.”
But Deatrice felt those words were even more disturbing.
Worry? Why would you worry about me?
What the hell am I to you?
Those words came up all the way up to her throat, but in the end, she couldn’t say them out loud.
Suddenly, she tightly shut her eyes and her face contorted into a grimace. She was startled when Lucius moved closer to her, but then she was quick to avoid his incoming touch.
Instead, she said, “Fine, I’ll go see a doctor. But don’t ever use this method to make me give in to you again.”
“What metho—”
“Understand?”
Lucius barely responded to her insistence.
“…alright, I promise.” Lucius’ tone was very solemn.