No One Ever Loved Me - Chapter 78

At last, Marchioness Federica surrendered.

It was the Queen who pushed her hand—she had sent Countess Nastro, or Lady Lorraine, to formally notify me of the date I was to enter the palace.

Reluctantly, Marchioness Federica hosted a luncheon, like someone forced to swallow bitter medicine.

Since she couldn’t go against the Queen’s wishes, her only option now was to help me preserve my dignity.

As the time approached, guests arrived one after another. Longtime friends of the Marchioness, like Lady Ellen and Lady Doria, appeared. Even Josephine arrived, smiling brightly and greeting me as if we were close.

To my surprise, Margaret had also been invited.

She made a loud fuss, saying I looked half-dead from all the stress I must have gone through, making sure everyone in the room heard her.

The truth was, I had been eating and sleeping better since leaving the Linton estate. I looked healthier, not worse.

Marchioness Federica had also sent an invitation to Lady Rosette.

If I was going to repair my damaged reputation, Lady Rosette’s presence was essential.

While I had been hiding away in the Marchioness’s estate, Lady Rosette had been attending every social event she could, praising Edgar’s generosity and sighing over her own shortcomings in raising a stepdaughter.

It was a clever way to discredit me—never directly insulting me, but letting others draw their own conclusions.

If Marchioness Federica hadn’t been the Queen’s grandmother, and if she didn’t have the influence she did, I would’ve been seen as a disgraceful wife who abandoned her home, bringing shame to both her husband and stepmother.

Thankfully, the Marchioness’s reputation was strong enough that many assumed there had to be more to the story than what Lady Rosette was telling.

“I’m so relieved to see how much Marchioness Federica cares for you. After you married, you had me constantly worried. But no—it wasn’t your fault. It was mine, for not being good enough.”

Lady Rosette burst into dramatic tears the moment she stepped inside, grabbing my hands and putting on a show of maternal love.

“If only your health hadn’t been so fragile, the Count wouldn’t have kept you at such a distance. He worries about you every day, you know. He always asks me how you’re doing. It breaks my heart that I never have an answer.”

Just like that, she framed Edgar as a devoted husband and herself as a loving stepmother who longed for news—while I came off as the one who had cruelly shut her out.

I looked over at Isla, who stood awkwardly at her side.

All the women the Marchioness had invited today were high-ranking. Many had sons of marriageable age, or at least close friends who did.

Girls Isla’s age were already engaged—or even married. It wasn’t surprising Lady Rosette was starting to panic.

Her original plan to find Isla a husband through Edgar had fallen apart long ago.

Now, Edgar was too overwhelmed with misfortune to spare any attention for Lady Rosette.

Even before, he only turned to her when it suited him. Whenever it didn’t, he dismissed her attempts to act like a mother-in-law, calling her an interfering stepmother.

“I had no idea you were so concerned about me. Did you try writing to me? Marchioness Federica has been kind enough to allow all guests and letters through. If nothing came from you, then maybe it got lost somewhere along the way.”

At that, Josephine let out a quiet, mocking laugh.

“People like us don’t use the post like commoners. Letters getting lost? I doubt it. Most likely, the Countess was too busy ‘worrying’ to actually write anything.”

“If you’d sent Isla instead, I wouldn’t have felt so alone. And I would have known how much you cared. What a missed opportunity.”

Lady Rosette glared at me, her face dark with anger, before pretending to be too emotional to say another word.

“I was wondering why no one had come in yet—you all seemed to be having quite the talk. Let’s move the conversation inside, where it’s warm.”

Marchioness Federica stepped in at just the right moment, smoothing over the tension.

I gave her a small look of thanks, but she turned away without acknowledgment.

She must’ve known the kinds of lies Lady Rosette had been spreading.

If you don’t correct an audience’s understanding before a performance, they might misinterpret the entire play. I was certain the Marchioness had allowed that foyer drama to unfold just to see how I’d respond.

Even so, she wasn’t trying to corner Lady Rosette. That’s why, when Rosette ran out of things to say, she decided it was enough and stepped in.

Josephine quickly took the lead, soothing the Marchioness’s irritation with practiced ease.

Lady Ellen and Lady Doria followed, chatting politely, and the rest moved along comfortably toward the dining hall.

“She’s terrifying,”

Margaret whispered, slipping in beside me.

“The guests here trust Marchioness Federica, so they won’t believe every rumor. But outside? Most people think Cecilia was reckless.”

She didn’t even bother with a greeting. Margaret just delivered the hard truth straight.

Lady Rosette had played her hand well—better than I’d expected.

If Edgar had even half her tact, I might’ve lost my footing completely. But fortunately, despite his cleverness, his arrogance made him too clumsy to manipulate things as smoothly as she could.

Margaret added that, after the fire, Sir Juan’s resignation, and losing the “hostage” he’d been keeping hidden, Edgar had been throwing fits—smashing furniture around the house every day, unable to control his rage.

“How does Margaret know about that?”

“Lady Rosette might keep her mouth shut, but that maid from her house? She’s been fluttering around like a loose leaf in the wind.”

It was clearly Sarah. With me gone, her fancy title as the lady’s personal maid meant nothing anymore.

Naturally, Sarah would have run straight to the Rosette estate the moment the fire broke out.

Dismissing Sarah outright would have damaged Lady Rosette’s carefully maintained image as a devoted stepmother—nearly as noble as a real mother.

But since she didn’t bring Sarah with her today, it was clear she didn’t intend to keep her around for long.

Sarah herself was probably the only one unaware of that.

“Goodness… it looks like Marchioness Federica really went all out for this.”

Margaret’s eyes widened as she entered the dining hall.

The Marchioness, known for living simply—especially to match her granddaughter the Queen’s humble reputation—had outdone herself today. The table was lined with one luxurious dish after another.

“Well, they say the best way to delight guests is through their appetite.”

I replied with a light joke. But the implication was obvious: Marchioness Federica had never needed to impress her guests—until now.

For her to host such an extravagant luncheon could easily spark gossip that she wasn’t quite as frugal as she’d let on, at least not when it came to the Queen.

“Please, everyone—have a seat.”

The Marchioness guided the seating arrangements with careful precision.

Josephine was seated just to her right, in the second place of honor.

Lady Ellen and Lady Doria took seats slightly lower in rank.

I was placed directly across from Ellen—a subtle but unmistakable signal that the Marchioness held me in high regard.

If she had placed me in Josephine’s seat, it would’ve seemed like she was indulging in nostalgia, forgetting her age. But where I sat meant I wasn’t a peer—I was someone she cared for and nurtured.

Margaret was seated at the end of the table, but beside her was the Viscountess of Damier.

That detail reassured me—it meant Marchioness Federica was still invested in Margaret’s future, particularly her marriage prospects.

After a few words with Margaret, the elderly viscountess gave a meaningful nod, then glanced toward the Marchioness with a subtle, knowing smile.

Lady Rosette and Isla were placed in the middle of the table.

Not far enough to be ignored, but not close enough for quiet conversation. If either of them spoke to me, everyone around us would hear.

Isla was eyeing the food, licking her lips like she couldn’t wait to try everything. Lady Rosette, meanwhile, wore a forced smile.

“She rarely invites anyone for more than tea. You must have news worth showing off.”

Josephine was the first to speak. Marchioness Federica nodded to a servant, who began pouring wine into everyone’s glass.

Once the glasses were full, she stood.

“I knew I couldn’t keep a secret from my dearest friends. The truth is, I’ve gathered you all here to celebrate something wonderful.”

The room quieted immediately. All casual chatter faded into silence.

The Marchioness continued her speech with the calm confidence of someone used to being heard.

“As you know, the Queen has been the greatest joy of my life. But then I met Cecilia. She’s still young, but so thoughtful and gentle—she’s brought such peace to my old age.”

I glanced at Lady Rosette.

Her smile had become even more strained, slipping slowly into something unnatural.

“Of course, I couldn’t keep such happiness to myself. My life is simple and unremarkable. But Her Majesty’s life is different. Knowing Cecilia will be by her side… well, I could close my eyes tomorrow without regret.”

Lady Ellen let out a quiet gasp.

“My goodness—does that mean Lady Cecilia is to become Her Majesty’s lady-in-waiting?”

Marchioness Federica nodded.

The room erupted with congratulations. I lowered my head, accepting the praise with a modest smile, as if overwhelmed by the honor.

“Let’s raise our glasses to Lady Cecilia. I am so fortunate—to have raised the Queen and now, in my later years, to welcome someone like Cecilia. How could I not be happy?”

Everyone toasted. I joined them quietly, then spoke once the excitement had died down.

“I’m truly grateful for your kind words, but this honor is all thanks to Her Majesty. I think we should end with a toast to the Queen herself.”

“Would you listen to her, Isabel? She’s already thinking of Her Majesty first. You won’t have to worry about her at all.”

Josephine laughed, brushing away even the smallest hint of concern from the Marchioness.

For the first time today, Marchioness Federica gave me a warm, genuine smile and joined in the second toast.

“This is truly wonderful news, Cecilia.”

Lady Rosette had been quiet the whole time. She finally spoke when the meal was well underway.

“It’s just… I can’t help thinking about Count Linton. He’s still young. Living alone won’t be easy for him.”

“I’ll go visit him and take care of him!”

Isla, who had been busy eating, suddenly chimed in.

“Don’t say such nonsense. What do you mean you’ll take care of the Count? You should be preparing to get married like any respectable girl your age.”

Lady Rosette scolded her sharply, then sighed and turned toward me and the woman seated beside me.

“She’s more than old enough to be engaged. But I’ve kept her with me all this time, and now… I just don’t know. At least Cecilia matured early and has such a bright, secure future ahead of her.”

If Isla hadn’t interrupted, the conversation would have drifted toward Edgar and how pitiful his circumstances were. But Lady Rosette wasn’t one to give up so easily.

Even after Isla’s poorly timed comment, she found a way to steer the discussion back to her true goal—making sure everyone knew her daughter now had a sister who would be serving the Queen.

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