Transmigrated as Jane’s Ghostly Godmother - Chapter 33

Chapter 33: A Three-Party Meeting? Playing Them All Like Fiddles

Terry saw the newcomer and his expression shifted instantly. He hurried forward with the same deep respect he had shown Mason.

“Good day, Mr. Eyre.”

Upon seeing the new arrival, the gloom on Jonas Mason’s face softened. They had been business partners for years; if not old friends, they were at least acquaintances who knew each other’s roots. He was about to step forward to greet him when he noticed John Eyre’s gaze bypass him entirely, landing squarely on Edward Harrison.

“Good day, everyone. And this gentleman is?”

Harrison, having learned from Terry’s greeting that this was indeed the John Eyre he hoped to cultivate at the ball, adjusted his collar and stepped forward.

“I have long looked forward to meeting you, Mr. Eyre. I am Edward Harrison.”

Hearing the name, John Eyre instinctively knit his brows, his gaze becoming complex. He gave a constrained nod but asked no further questions.

Oh? It seems Harrison hasn’t managed to accomplish much in Madeira yet. Jonas felt a spark of interest, his earlier irritation dissipating. He stepped forward warmly, positioning himself between the two men. “Good day, John. What wind brings you here?”

Only then did John Eyre shift his gaze from Harrison, replying flatly, “Good day, Jonas. We can talk properly another day. But right now, I have urgent business with Mr. Lint.”

That single sentence set everyone’s heart racing.

Now, both Jonas and Edward’s perception of Lint shifted rapidly from “potential fraud” to “mysterious subordinate of some reclusive tycoon.” After all, John Eyre was known in Madeira as a strictly legitimate businessman who never dabbled in the intrigues of the noble families. A man he would personally visit could be no ordinary person.

Jonas decided on a final probe. He smiled and asked, “John, were you also… invited by this Mr. Lint to discuss business?”

John Eyre recalled the instructions in Lin Zhao’s letter:

“If asked about our relationship, do not mention business. Simply say we have a private acquaintance from England and that I once helped you find someone.”

Strictly speaking, their entire correspondence centered on Jane, so this wasn’t a lie. He nodded and spoke in a matter-of-fact tone: “Mr. Lint is a remarkably talented information broker. While I was in England, I entrusted him with finding a long-lost relative, and he performed admirably.”

This sentence was like a massive boulder crashing into the lake of Edward Harrison’s mind, sending ripples in every direction.

Information broker! Finding a person!

He connected everything in an instant—Lint had noticed his family only because he was tracing Jane Eyre for John Eyre! It was precisely because his wife wanted to sponsor Jane that Lint saw an opportunity to intervene! And that threatening letter regarding Lina’s marriage was merely this broker’s way of doing a favor and flexing his muscles!

Having “realized” this, the last stone in Edward’s heart fell away. His gaze toward the drawing room became fervent; the idea of an alliance between Lina and the mysterious “Mr. Giannette” became more resolute than ever.

“I see,” Edward Harrison laughed loudly, breaking the silence. “Since we are all acquaintances, this makes things simple. I wonder how Mr. Mason’s chat with Mr. Lint went? I have important matters to discuss with him. Mr. Eyre, I trust you won’t mind if I go first?”

John Eyre also remembered another instruction: “Let them talk first; you may enter last.”

He nodded without a word.

Jonas Mason, seeing this, knew he could no longer monopolize Lint. But now, with no more doubts about Lint’s identity, his heart was filled only with endless panic over his daughter’s secret being exposed. He had to stabilize Lint before Harrison went in.

“No rush,” he said, reaching out to stop Harrison. “I have a few more critical words to share with Mr. Lint in private. Mr. Harrison, Mr. Eyre—please wait a moment.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned, pushed open the door, and strode back into the drawing room.

This time, as he faced the black-robed figure sitting silently in the shadows, there was no trace of his previous arrogance or disdain. There was only awe and unease. The tightly wrapped cloak now seemed profound and inscrutable, as if a devil capable of seeing through everything was hidden within.

He took a deep breath and bowed deeply toward the shadow.

“Mr. Lint, allow me… to offer my most sincere apologies for my previous rudeness…”

Behind the cover of her hood, Lin Zhao smiled comfortably. She had just “slipped away” to eavesdrop and realized everything was proceeding according to plan. Once she was out of here, she could go find Jane.

At that thought, Lin Zhao turned serious, pushed over a note, and prepared to wrap everything up quickly.

“Your Excellency’s reaction is as expected. However, my goal is not Mr. Mason’s family scandal. You simply need to ensure that I have a place at tomorrow night’s ball.”

The ball—the fuse for all the overt and covert struggles. In truth, Lin Zhao no longer had a strictly logical reason to attend, since the deals with Harrison and Mr. Eyre could be settled at the firm. But after seeing the sudden relief on Mason’s face, she indulged her own small selfish desire, silently planning to take a detour to the tailor shop after this.

She hoped the streets would be less crowded by then.

“There are just… too many people—” Inside the carriage, Jane peeked out the window several times, unable to help her exclamation.

Though they didn’t have to stand in line themselves, the congested roads were quite “impartial” as they waited for the servants to get the clothes, trapping the entire group in the carriage.

Even Beatrice was startled by the situation. She raised an eyebrow and guessed, “I suppose they are all headed for the ball.”

Jane was genuinely confused. “Have they stopped holding balls in England?”

Miss Constance let out a soft chuckle. However, her mood was actually quite low; as her gaze swept over the excited faces outside the window, her eyes were cold.

“They aren’t just coming to dance, dear.”

Meeting Jane’s curious gaze, she hesitated, her words eventually turning into a soft sigh. Beatrice understood the subtext of that sentence; her surprise faded as she silently looked away. “…I wonder how the dress alterations turned out. If they still don’t fit, there won’t be time to fix them again.”

“Rest easy, girls,” Miss Constance picked up the conversation, her tone carrying a hint of practiced confidence. “If it really comes to that, I have a few humble skills that might be useful. After all, I once served a rather… unconventional apprenticeship as a tailor.”

“What?” the two girls asked in unison.

Miss Constance laughed again, this time more cheerfully. “Yes. You didn’t know? At an age only a few years older than yours, I ran away from Ashford.”

Jane’s eyes lit up instantly. She leaned forward, pressing: “But… how did you do it? You just… left?”

“I almost didn’t make it out,” Miss Constance’s gaze turned distant as she slipped into memory. “On the night before my engagement ball, a thought struck me—I had had enough. So, I took some jewelry my mother left me and, under the cover of night, said goodbye to that home.”

“The first problem I faced was turning those jewels into cash. Because I was so young, the pawnbroker looked at me as if he were scrutinizing a thief. Later, a clerk told me privately that what saved me was the fabric of the clothes I was wearing. The owner assumed I was some runaway high-born lady seeking a thrill, so he didn’t throw me out immediately.”

“Once I had the money, the first thing I did was go to a ready-to-wear shop to change into the plainest outfit possible, and then I sold my original clothes. Living off savings wasn’t a long-term plan; my father’s men would find me eventually. So I took a carriage for a long time, heading north all the way to London to find work…”

“But,” Beatrice interrupted, unable to hold back the notions she had been raised with, “those people at the bottom… wouldn’t they do bad things to you since you were alone? Mama says the poor are very cunning and very wicked.”

As she spoke, she suddenly realized Jane was right beside her. She glanced at her guiltily and quickly added, “…Most of them, anyway.”

This reminded Jane of when they first met. she shot back at Beatrice with quite a bit of sarcasm: “Yes, and the rich are all saints, I suppose.”

The smile on Miss Constance’s face faded. She shook her head seriously, looking at Beatrice with a gentle but firm gaze. “Betty, my dear, this may be the first lesson you learn in the outside world: any conclusion you haven’t reached with your own eyes may be a second-hand lie. And even from personal experience, one can rarely summarize a truth that applies everywhere. This is especially true of one’s views on people.”

“I have met people with incredibly kind hearts, like the shop owner who took me in. He didn’t pry, and his wife treated me like family. I have also met people with very wicked hearts—customers who saw I was young and vulnerable and intentionally skipped out on their bills when I was the only one in the shop. I had some money to cover the losses, but I couldn’t help but think: what would the children who truly rely on those wages to survive do?”

Jane felt a deep empathy for that helplessness. She couldn’t help but join in: “They probably can’t do anything… and no one would listen to them.”

“Exactly.” Miss Constance sighed and continued, “And there was another important reason why that shop owner was willing to take me in. For convenience, and for safety, I cut my long hair, bound my chest, and used a boy’s name to get that job.”

“You… you disguised yourself as a man?” Beatrice covered her mouth in shock again.

“Strange, isn’t it?” Miss Constance’s tone carried a hint of self-mockery. “A shop that clearly serves ladies, yet basically only willing to provide a promising job to a man. Women, it seems, can only do odd jobs like mending and patching.”

“Later, I met Emily in the shop—an ‘outlier’ just like me, a kindred spirit with a mind as sharp as her scissors. we hit it off immediately, saved every penny we could, and on a diet of coffee and dreams, went to Paris together to refine our skills. And after that… the rest of the story was bought with countless long days and sleepless nights.”

She glossed over the innumerable hardships, but Jane could clearly sense the bitterness and struggle hidden behind the phrase “opened my own shop.”

Beatrice, meanwhile, caught another familiar name: “Emily… is that the owner of the tailor shop near Ashford?”

“The very one. Our shop now has several branches. I am based in London, while she is responsible for traveling around to find new inspiration.”

“In short,” Constance summarized, her voice calm and powerful, “after leaving home to live on my own, I discovered the world is vast, and a woman’s future holds far more possibilities than just ‘marriage.’ I also discovered the world is small—so small that some people have no choice from the moment they are born.”

“Of course, there were moments of confusion. On those cold and hungry nights, I would wonder if the gilded cage I fled was better than this high-priced freedom. But I am glad I never succumbed to that weakness. Because becoming some man’s wife does not exempt you from the transactions of life. You still have to pay the price for your bread; it’s just that the currency then is your youth, your obedience, and your self—and the price is often higher, and entirely out of your control.”

This was a story truly unheard of and thrilling.

Jane stared intently at Miss Constance’s relaxed features, remembering her bold, firm statement under the moonlight the previous night: “No one can love me more than I love myself.” Jane felt her heart pounding like a drum. It was such a familiar feeling—her heart had felt this same silent, overflowing fullness when Lin Zhao told her stories of that distant world.

Noticing Jane’s glowing eyes, Miss Constance smiled. But the smile lasted only a few seconds before dimming again. “…But this occasionally makes me feel guilty. Lina is being kept under such strict control by Edward and the others… perhaps partly because of me. My rebellion caused them to build higher walls around her.”

“No!” Jane refuted without hesitation. “How can the people truly responsible for this—because of their own paranoia and desire for control—let you take the blame? I believe that for Lina, compared to the shackles they force upon her, your existence is an indispensable inspiration!”

“…”

Beatrice listened to their conversation but didn’t participate in the latter half. She felt a bit uncomfortable, so she simply stopped listening and turned to look out the window.

In the heavy traffic, many of the passing women wore aprons. She hadn’t thought much of it before, but now she couldn’t help but wonder if some of them, like Miss Constance, carried untold stories. But their passing faces, made plain by their simple dress, made her feel it was impossible.

She couldn’t figure out where this fleeting gloom came from, only feeling glad that at least Miss Constance eventually made money and changed back into the beautiful clothes that belonged to her. If it were her, she would never give up everything she had now to run away.

“…” Her mood didn’t improve with that thought, so Beatrice turned her gaze further, trying to distract herself. “!” Her eyes stopped on a strange figure in front of the tailor shop.

“It’s the height of summer; isn’t it hot wrapped up like that?” Watching that figure in a cloak, with the space under the hood also wrapped in gauze and a mask, Beatrice couldn’t help but mutter. This naturally drew the attention of the other two.

Jane looked over, and as soon as she saw clearly, she couldn’t help but gasp.

This…