I No Longer Have Love to Offer You - Chapter 11

“I need you to arrange a job for me.”

“Come again?”

Mirabelle’s request must have been beyond Albert’s expectations. Though he’d clearly heard her, he asked her to repeat herself.

“If I’m going to live independently from now on, I’ll need a source of income.”

“But wouldn’t that be settled by waiting for Lord Ricardo to provide alimony? The Hylas family should take responsibility to ensure Mirabelle won’t face hardships moving forward.”

The conversation circled back to where it had been earlier. But there was no helping that.

“Besides, considering you might remarry in the future, it’d be better not to take on any unsuitable work.”

Albert had a point. Fundamentally, even in managing estates and family businesses, women’s roles were largely supplementary. The public face was the husband’s work, while wives were expected to manage the household, support their husbands, and provide comfort.

“I won’t be remarrying. No one would propose a political marriage to someone who’s no longer even the daughter of the Lumière family.”

In her current state, Mirabelle wasn’t even fit to be a pawn in family schemes.

“You might fall in love?”

From Albert’s lips, handsome yet undeniably masculine came unexpectedly sweet words that made Mirabelle’s eyes widen.

(Love? Did he say love?)

Though Mirabelle knew Albert was more of a romantic than he let on and that he harbored deep affection for those he held dear, his words still caught her off guard.

“I’ve had enough of love. I don’t want to be swayed by such troublesome emotions anymore.”

That was her honest feeling. To Mirabelle, ‘love’ had only ever brought pain.

Seeing her like this, Albert’s face twisted slightly in what seemed like shared pain.

“…This is Lord Ricardo’s doing.”

His muttered words were too quiet for Mirabelle to hear.

“I want to stand on my own two feet.”

The types of jobs available to noblewomen were limited. The best option was likely as a governess teaching noble daughters or children of wealthy commoners but such positions were highly competitive. Typically, widows were preferred for these roles, as society viewed them as blameless.

In contrast, divorced women like Mirabelle were often assumed to be at fault.

This was where letters of recommendation became crucial.

A strong recommendation could increase the chances of employment, even for a divorced woman. Such letters vouched for one’s status and character, and if anything went wrong, the recommender could be held accountable for damages. In this society, recommending someone carried significant responsibility.

And a letter from the Albert Trading Company was considered the gold standard.

No one hired through the company had ever been dismissed, nor had the company ever been sued for damages. Their meticulous selection process considering compatibility between employer and employee ensured minimal issues. It was no wonder their recommendations were so sought-after, surpassing even those from lesser nobles, as they provided ideal candidates without any strings attached.

“I understand how valuable a recommendation from the Albert Trading Company is. Still, if there’s any position you think might suit me, I’d appreciate your help.”

“There are no governess openings at the moment.”

Leaning back against the sofa, Albert spoke with a troubled expression. Though he didn’t outright refuse as before, Mirabelle could sense his hesitation.

“…I see.”

Was there truly no demand for governesses, or was he saying this to dissuade her? Albert’s expression gave nothing away.

“…I’m not fixated on being a governess. If someone is willing to hire me, I’ll take any job.”

Even so, Mirabelle doubted Albert would suggest anything unreasonable. Though she felt slightly guilty for thinking it, she was confident he wouldn’t.

(Besides, he wouldn’t recommend me for a job I couldn’t handle. Introducing an inexperienced candidate to an employer seeking immediate competence would only tarnish the company’s reputation.)

“You’re absolutely set on this?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

She met Albert’s piercing gaze without flinching. His golden-brown eyes, usually unreadable, seemed to peer straight into her heart.

“Fine. But don’t complain about wherever I introduce you to deal?”

“I know I’m asking a lot. Whatever the job, I’ll do my utmost.”

Hearing her reply, Albert closed his eyes briefly and sighed.

“Your stubbornness hasn’t changed a bit.”

It was likely an honest observation on his part.

Yet Albert was the only one who ever saw Mirabelle this way—stubborn, rather than the ever-smiling, accommodating woman others knew. Realizing she could be her true self around him made her feel oddly embarrassed.

“I’ll need a day. Can you come back here at the same time tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

Albert was a man of his word. If he set a deadline, he’d surely find her a position by then. Perhaps he already had something in mind.

“Are you returning to the Hylas residence today?”

“No. I’ve left for good. I plan to find an inn nearby.”

Truthfully, she wanted to avoid unnecessary expenses. But with nowhere else to go and needing to return here tomorrow, staying nearby seemed practical.

(This is the most prosperous part of the capital, so lodging won’t be cheap but I can’t afford to be picky.)

As she pondered this, Albert glanced at her and made an offhand suggestion.

“If you haven’t settled on a place, you can stay at our dormitory.”

“Dormitory?”

“Yes. There’s one behind this building for employees. Rooms are available now, so you’re welcome to use one.”

“Is it for the staff working at this store?”

“Not just them. It’s for any Company member without their own residence.”

(It makes sense for live-in servants of noble households to be provided rooms, but a dormitory for others… I’d never considered such a thing.)

“Would it really be all right for me to stay?”

“Of course. The only condition is you can only bring one attendant.”

“I’m no longer a viscountess, and I intend to live independently from now on. I don’t need attendants. Though I might be a nuisance with all the things I don’t know…”

At her reply, Albert gave a small smile. The first she’d seen today making her heart skip a beat.

(Back at the academy, he used to smile at me like that all the time.)

After graduation, her surroundings had changed drastically, and she’d quickly become a viscountess. Her memories from the end of her student days were hazy, and after that, she and Albert had only exchanged occasional letters, never meeting again. She couldn’t even recall their last proper conversation.

Yet here he was, unchanged. Did he realize how much that meant to her?

“Then, until tomorrow.”

As Mirabelle spoke, Albert responded.

“Yeah. Until tomorrow.”

His words, spoken with unusual care, lingered in her ears long after they parted.