No One Ever Loved Me - Chapter 121

So, when I said “we” here, I didn’t just mean Ricardo and myself. Our group had now grown by three more—Penelope, Martha, and Justin.

In any case, all of us now faced the risk of encountering Ricardo’s biological mother.

It hadn’t been long since Martha arrived from Nathan, yet she already had a fairly vivid picture of what kind of person Ricardo’s mother was.

In her imagination, this woman was nothing short of a wicked villainess unlike any other in the world.

Martha insisted that if this woman only tormented Ricardo, it would be none of our business. But unfortunately, since I was now involved, she argued, it could no longer be dismissed as someone else’s problem.

I had thought Penelope would leave in a huff out of wounded pride, but instead, she seemed almost emboldened—like she’d gained an ally in Martha—and was now ready to drive Ricardo out herself.

Ironically, the one who ended up getting expelled was none other than the man who had served as a butler in the Rosette estate for generations.

He even shed tears as he begged for my sympathy, insisting that dismissing him just to hire someone like Justin was pure madness.

For someone who claimed to have served the Rosette family for generations, the butler’s loyalty didn’t seem particularly deep.

When the Earl of Rosette passed away, he hadn’t hesitated to pledge his allegiance to Joanna.

Despite scouring Cecilia’s diary countless times, no name besides Martha’s ever appeared as someone who truly cared for the poor child.

Even back when I had just returned to the Rosette estate and was confronting Joanna, this former butler had kept his distance, pretending he knew nothing and observing from afar.

He had more than enough chances to explain his disloyalty.

If he had come to me with even a superficial apology after Joanna left, I might not have replaced him with Justin so readily.

But instead, he seemed too busy scheming how to rule the now-ownerless mansion like a king after learning I would be returning to the royal palace.

And with a butler like that, it was no surprise the head maid wasn’t much better ,and the other maids followed suit.

The maids’ indifference—only responding reluctantly after being summoned two or three times, stemmed from the butler’s attitude.

So I dismissed the butler without hesitation. Then I replaced the head maid, who likely sensed her turn was next.

From then on, the household staff became Martha and Justin’s responsibility. I wasn’t about to start setting an example for every single maid.

Gradually, the estate interior began to fall back into order—yet Ricardo continued loitering around me with nothing to do.

Since he wouldn’t leave, Penelope also refused to go, saying she couldn’t possibly abandon “the beast” (referring to Ricardo) alone by my side.

Penelope even moved her entire workshop into the mansion, converting the attic into a studio.

Justin, whom I had appointed as the new butler, rolled up his sleeves and enthusiastically oversaw the remodeling process.

Martha, meanwhile, was busy insisting that we needed to replace every maid, while Penelope, though physically in the mansion, was practically imprisoned in her studio with a flood of commissions.

As a result, Ricardo found himself with ample time to spend with me—almost as if those three distractions didn’t exist at all.

“Elodie’s next performance has been confirmed,” he said.

No one had asked him to, but Ricardo had appointed himself to various roles.

One of them was rising earlier than anyone else to bring me the morning paper—though he never actually handed it over.

Instead, he’d read it aloud in a clear, resonant voice, just like I used to read to Marchioness Federica.

“Does it mention who’s sponsoring her this time?” I asked.

Ricardo shook his head.

Elodie had once said that, for the time being, her name alone—along with the gossip surrounding it—was enough to secure her a stage without a sponsor.

But I also remembered her saying that if this situation dragged on too long, it would become harder to refuse the theater’s increasingly unreasonable demands.

“There is an editorial about her previous sponsor, though,” Ricardo added. “It’s an anonymous piece. To summarize: while the name isn’t revealed, it claims Elodie’s former patron paid the price for toying with two women at once. Whether that price was fair is still up for debate. And apparently, Elodie’s beautiful face is still marked by sorrow that cannot be hidden.”

It was the kind of editorial that did Elodie no good.

While it was one thing to emphasize Edgar’s disgrace, the piece would only make potential patrons more reluctant to support her.

“I don’t want to disrupt Margaret’s honeymoon,” I sighed, “but I can’t think of anyone else to ask.”

“Why did Lady Margaret suddenly enter this conversation, Lia?” Ricardo asked.

“I meant as a potential sponsor for Elodie,” I explained. “When we last visited her, I offered to sponsor Elodie myself if no one else stepped up—but she refused. Said she didn’t want to be involved with me in any way.”

“So, my rejection wasn’t the first.”

Ricardo muttered, his voice low and somber.

It was almost ridiculous—how everything related to me seemed to hold a special meaning for him. Even my rejection had to be his alone. What kind of mindset was that?

And yet, I understood. That’s what made it worse. Why did I understand something so irrational?

Ricardo’s demand was clearly unreasonable—he wanted an exclusive claim on something that made no sense. And the worst part? Some part of me wanted to go along with it. That wasn’t normal. Not at all.

“If we’re counting experiences, Margaret had one too. She wanted to be friends, and when I said I couldn’t, she turned around and rejected my rejection.”

“Elodie’s already enough to sink me into depression,” Ricardo sighed. “Must you bring Lady Margaret into it too? Are you that determined to strip me down to the last of my pride?”

It wasn’t like I had any desire to expose every flaw he had.

Sure, I wasn’t exactly in the healthiest state of mind right now either—but at least I hadn’t strayed quite as far off course as Ricardo.

Yes, I was drawn to him. But I was also fully aware that he was, at his core, a hopelessly devoted fanatic.

“Viscount Damier would never sponsor a theater singer, not even with a knife to his throat. Maybe it wasn’t a love marriage, but still—they’re newlyweds. If he suddenly stepped in to support Elodie, Lady Margaret’s position would take a hit.”

That was a fair point. The only problem was that I hadn’t planned to ask Viscount Damier in the first place.

“If anything, Margaret would be the one to step forward. I barely know the Viscount—why would I go out of my way to have a difficult conversation with someone I’ve no connection to?”

Ricardo folded the newspaper in half.

When Martha found out he brought me the morning paper every day, she went on and on about how I should never let him into my bedroom.

Thanks to that, I now had to wake up earlier than I ever did at the Queen’s palace just to come down to the drawing room each morning.

Ricardo never tried to wake me, but he would stand patiently outside my door until he heard the slightest movement inside.

He wasn’t some loyal dog trained to fetch the paper, but honestly, it was starting to feel that way. And while Martha tried to keep the staff in line, there was no discipline strong enough to stop the maids—from the youngest to the oldest—from making excuses to pass by my hallway just to catch a glimpse of him.

As a result, my sleep suffered daily.

I let out a soft yawn, wiped the sleep from the corner of my eyes, and stretched out on the sofa. Ricardo, now used to the routine, gently placed a blanket over me.

“If a noblewoman starts sponsoring a theater singer, it’s bound to become an even bigger gossip storm,” he said.

“Margaret’s going to become one of Her Majesty’s ladies-in-waiting. Once she enters the palace, gossip like that probably won’t even reach her. And I wouldn’t force her. I just want to talk to her. Elodie’s in trouble because of me. I can’t just pretend I don’t see it.”

Elodie hadn’t planned to return to the stage so soon. That’s why she’d moved to the old quarter—to avoid attention.

It was me who persuaded her to step back into the public eye.

She did it partly out of guilt—toward me—and partly for revenge. Even though she was suffering, Edgar hadn’t really lost much. He could still live almost the same life he had before. That angered her.

She decided to come forward earlier than planned because of those feelings. Because of me.

Her guilt and desire for revenge—I had stirred both.

“At the very least, Edgar’s name will be dragged through the mud again thanks to Elodie,” Ricardo said.

“Maybe I should just talk to His Majesty directly.”

I could see exactly what Ricardo was thinking.

He wanted to prove that he was more useful than Margaret. But honestly, in this situation, there wasn’t much he could do.

If I had wanted to use Ricardo, I already had. His report on Edgar had served its purpose. Everything he’d done since then had been more of a burden than help.

Josephine had once joked, “You’ve already been a countess, now you need to become a duchess.” But that was just empty flattery. She hadn’t really helped with my divorce.

A divorced duchess? In this world, unless I was born again, that was an impossible dream—not that it was ever my goal anyway.

“This is a family that nearly fell apart once already. Doesn’t everyone know that the former Count of Linton nearly ruined the house with his gambling? They barely avoided complete ruin, and now his heir has dragged their name through the dirt. If I asked His Majesty to strip the title—”

“And?”

“Even if he doesn’t remove it, he might at least lower their standing.”

That was just like Ricardo.

Start by demanding something big, then scale it back bit by bit until you end up exactly where you wanted. It was clever—realistic, even—but also a bit annoying.

“Edgar takes great pride in the Linton name. If we crush it all at once, Elodie won’t feel satisfied. He needs to stand there and watch it slowly fall apart.”

That was the kind of pain Elodie had suffered, too. She didn’t even realize she was sinking—until it was too late.

And by then, there was no way out without hurting herself in the process.

“I’ll take care of Elodie myself,” I said quietly.

“Would it hurt to at least acknowledge that I want to help, even if it means being pushy about it?” Ricardo pouted.

Without lifting my head, I glanced up at him. He was still blocking the sunlight with his body, shielding me from it.

“And yet, the one thing I do ask of you, you refuse.”

“I am begging you to do it.”

“If you’re really begging, why haven’t you convinced Martha yet? I’m not going to meet that woman while dragging three people along with me.”

Ricardo fell silent—maybe because he knew I was right.

Ever since Martha insisted on coming with us, Ricardo had become even more desperate to arrange a meeting with his birth mother.

Even with just him, I couldn’t be sure things would go my way. But with Martha?

She’d never let me take a single step inside that house.

And Ricardo would side with her, saying she was right. He’d offer to go in alone while I waited outside in the carriage. A few minutes later, he’d return, pretending not to be disappointed, saying he was just happy I came this far.

And I could already see what would follow.

Every time I tried to leave for Nathan, he’d bring up his unresolved issues with his mother, asking me to stay. Or if I absolutely had to go, he’d insist on coming with me.

Three days left in this vacation.

I planned to use every hour wisely.

And the first step… was getting this fanatic out of here.

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