No One Ever Loved Me - Chapter 36

Hoping you’ve forgiven my past mistakes, I pick up this pen once more. All I wish for is to become a true friend to you. I confess, with no small shame, that I am merely a pitiful man.

Dearest Cecil, I know you have no reason to trust me. But I assure you, there is no falsehood in my heart.

I’m not naïve enough to believe I’ll ever be lucky enough to meet someone like myself again in this chaotic world.

You know as well as I do, we are alike. I understand why you would want to turn away from that truth.

Just as I do not demand anything of you, I ask only that you do not demand I abandon these feelings.

I end this letter praying that the cold winds of morning and evening do not harm your health.

From someone who only wishes to be your friend.

Martha, who had delivered the letter, had flicked her eyes over it, clearly trying to identify the sender.

Ricardo had wisely left the envelope unsigned.

The letters I received these days came in many varieties.

There were kind notes from Josephine checking in on my well-being, brief cards from Marchioness Federica accompanying small gifts that reminded her of me, and even Margaret’s messy, chatty four-page letters that made no mention of what happened that day—as if she’d made peace with it.

“He sounds suspicious. Shouldn’t we report him?”

Ever since she stopped being my nanny, Martha had been trying to catch me slipping, constantly on alert for weaknesses.

“There’s no need to stir things up. Just ignore it.”

“I only worry some lowlife is hanging around now that you’ve gotten famous.”

I understood her anxiety. With Justin’s future hanging in the balance, she wanted something—anything—to cling to for reassurance.

At the very least, she’d be better prepared if the worst came knocking.

“Report him, Madam. What if he shows up at the house and causes trouble?”

She already knew I’d been receiving these anonymous letters for some time.

She hadn’t said anything back then. But now, suddenly insisting I report the sender—claiming it’s for my safety—only made her look more suspicious.

Since I’d started calling her Martha instead of Nanny, I hadn’t replied to a single letter.

And even if the sender was confirmed to be Ricardo, I could simply say it was a one-sided affection and end it there.

But if he ever found out I had engineered this entire scheme… would he still want to be my “true friend”?

His feelings would fade eventually anyway.

The persistence, the silence, the dramatic declarations—those were just temporary, born from a feeling with a built-in expiration date.

“You really want to stir things up and annoy Edgar now that the house has finally quieted down?”

At the mention of Edgar, Martha shut her mouth.

“He’s leaving on a trip soon. Did you look into the matter I assigned you?”

Martha wasn’t a servant of the estate. She could go out freely, as long as she used my name.

I had asked her to find out who Edgar had been seeing—besides Elodie.

“I told you, Madam, he travels by carriage. I can’t follow that everywhere.”

“And?”

“I did find out where the fox lives.”

She straightened her back proudly, ready to report on something I hadn’t asked for.

“I think the Count gave her the place. It’s a house near the theater. She seems to have the entire floor to herself. I slipped a few coins to the building manager—he told me the Count comes by every night.”

I had planned to squeeze in this report before leaving for Josephine’s boat party—something useful, not this kind of gossip.

“But the strange part is, the property’s under your name.”

“My name?”

Penelope would arrive soon, and once I’d changed clothes and touched up my makeup, Margaret would likely arrive too.

I needed to get the important parts of this report before either showed up.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. It seemed odd, so I went to the records office and told them I was acting under your orders. I checked the registry myself. It’s in your name, without a doubt.”

Martha tilted her head slightly. I mirrored her without realizing.

He gives his mistress a house… and puts it under his wife’s name?

“Did you check the previous owner?”

If Cecilia’s biological mother’s name appeared, I could use that to cut ties with Edgar faster than planned.

“I already did.”

Her voice dropped, far more subdued than when she’d been bragging about the address.

“It was listed under the stepmother’s name.”

“Lady Rosette?”

“Yes. My guess, Madam… is that the Count was repaying her by covering your dowry.”

Of course, that was Martha’s interpretation—she still believed Edgar was the epitome of chivalry.

Whatever fragile hope had sparked inside me deflated instantly.

Of course it wouldn’t be that simple.

Lady Rosette was no fool. Edgar, for all his detestable traits, was sharp when it came to protecting his own interests.

If they had left obvious evidence that they were swallowing Cecilia’s wealth, I would’ve been more surprised.

Even if he was blinded by love, a noble like Edgar wouldn’t have let his guard down that much. Cecilia hadn’t caught on to any of this before—she’d been kept thoroughly in the dark.

“You’re the one who called her a wicked stepmother. But by your logic, she generously passed the house to her stepdaughter out of goodwill?”

“Exactly—that’s what makes it so strange…”

It gave me a glimpse into how Lady Rosette maintained her sparkling reputation.

Even Martha, who had seen Cecilia discriminated against with her own eyes, was second-guessing herself.

“Maybe it was mine from the beginning… and they just took it later.”

“That makes it even weirder. In the end, it’s like she gave it back to you, Madam.”

To convince others of that, I’d have to paint Edgar in a terrible light.

But that wouldn’t work on Martha—not anymore.

“Anyway, it’s a good thing that fox is living in your house. We should kick her out while the Count is away. There’s nothing illegal about it.”

Martha shaped her fingers into a claw and slashed the air, as if she were already yanking out Elodie’s hair.

“Leave Miss Elodie alone.”

“But Madam, this is our chance!”

“Don’t you think Edgar will take her with him on the trip?”

What really mattered wasn’t Elodie. It was stopping Martha from starting to believe Lady Rosette might not be so bad after all.

It was good that she could no longer use me. But that also meant the fragile bond we had was gone.

Fortunately, her hatred toward Lady Rosette was so deeply rooted that she wouldn’t change her tune overnight.

“You’re right. If I can’t grab her by the hair, I’ll just empty the whole house!”

“Martha.”

My cold, flat voice stopped her in her tracks.

She quieted instantly. That voice made it obvious she wasn’t dealing with the old Cecilia anymore.

Cecilia would never have spoken to her nanny like that.

Cecilia’s voice had always overflowed with warmth. She looked at Martha like just being there was enough to be grateful for.

“I don’t want to make Edgar angry. We’ve only just started eating dinner together again.”

“And yet he still goes out to see that fox at night.”

Martha snapped back.

“If he likes Miss Elodie, let him. She relaxes him, keeps him happy. That just means I have less to deal with.”

“Madam, that’s your role. That’s what a wife should do. That’s how affection builds. And once there’s affection, he’ll return to your bed. And from there, you’ll have an heir!”

“The matter of heirs isn’t really your concern, is it?”

“You just seem so calm about it all… I’m sorry. I guess I slipped up. I keep worrying about you like I did back when you were just a girl. But you’re not a young lady anymore. You’re a proper Madam now.”

If there were ever a moment, I felt sorry for Cecilia, it was times like this.

When I realized I had thrown away the affection she had tried so hard to protect.

“I told Justin to get a grip, and now look at me. I guess after raising you so long, it’s hard to let go of the habit. Please forgive me.”

“I do, Martha.”

I said it with a voice that held no warmth, while reaching out my hand. She took it automatically, but her eyes flickered in surprise at how cold it felt.

“We’re not the same as before. This is my goodwill. Leave Miss Elodie’s house alone, and instead find out who Edgar is really meeting. I need to know what business he’s in. A wife should at least know where her husband’s money is coming from, don’t you think?”

Martha’s eyes sparkled at the mention of gold—but quickly dimmed, her face falling.

“…Understood, Madam.”

She left without another glance.

And I thought, yes—her love for Cecilia hadn’t been entirely fake.

The care was real. So was the part where she hoped to benefit from it.

I stared blankly into the mirror.

The pretty blonde girl reflected there still didn’t feel like me.

“Cecilia.”

“Cecilia!”

My whisper was interrupted by the sudden slam of the door. Edgar.

“How rare to see you during daylight, Edgar.”

He was breathless, like he’d rushed here in a panic.

“Why didn’t you tell me Her Majesty the Queen would be at Countess Allegro’s boat party?”

Because I didn’t know.

“Her Majesty will be there?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t know. Are you trying to shut me out?”

He leaned against the wall, swallowing hard.

So much for being in shape.

“I’m going too.”

“That’s fine. But since you weren’t invited, you’ll have to come with me.”

“You think I don’t know that? Of course I’m going with you.”

“I already have Lady Margaret and Isla coming as my guests. That fills my quota. You’re fine, since you’re family—but Miss Elodie…”

“You want me to say it? Fine. Elodie’s not coming. Happy now?”

I hadn’t expected him to actually leave her behind. I only brought it up because I knew how obsessed he was with dragging her everywhere.

“We leave in two hours.”

“What about a gift? Did you prepare something for the Queen?”

“I didn’t even know she was coming until just now.”

“You’re unbelievable. She loves birds. Let’s give her a pair of skylarks. Not a rare breed—we don’t want it to seem like a bribe—but something nice. We can find that in two hours.”

He snapped, tugging open his collar with an annoyed hand.

“Damn it. Anyway, this kind of thing is about sincerity. A luxury breed might seem suspicious. Something tasteful is better.”

He muttered mostly to himself, as if trying to calm down.

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