Maylily - Chapter 97

As the streets sank into darkness, the stream of customers coming to the grocery store cut off completely. On days like this, there was no point sitting around expecting much profit. Diane and Jace decided to close the shop a little earlier than usual, and they were in the middle of cleaning up in the back.

Clink, clink. A man came in through the door with the small bell. The chill of the autumn night clung to the gray coat he wore.

“Are you Diane Brooks?”

Refined clothing and an intellectual way of speaking. At a glance, he was an outsider. Wariness gathered in Diane’s eyes as she slid the sales ledger aside.

“Yes, I am…. Who are you?”

The man offered a formal smile as if to reassure Diane. Even so, it didn’t completely erase the cold atmosphere created by the metal frames of his glasses.

“Hello. I’m David Curren, secretary to the Count of Everscourt.”

Jace, who was stocking jars on the wooden shelves behind Diane, reflexively turned around at the name Everscourt. The man gave a light nod of greeting in Jace’s direction, then handed Diane a business card. Beneath his name and title, the emblem of the Skaard Hotel was stamped clearly.

Faced with the identity of a visitor she hadn’t expected even a little, Diane’s expression went blank.

“What brings you to this countryside….”

“Do you know that the Count of Everscourt was Miss Maylily Aile’s patron?”

Why did he say “was,” in the past tense? Did the patron relationship end?

Diane’s confusion deepened.

She had known about the patron relationship between the Count of Everscourt and Maylily for a long time. How could she not, when the story had been printed in a society gazette months ago and spread even to this small town?

And in the letter Maylily had sent over the summer, the return address wasn’t written, but it had a southern postmark from where Everscourt was.

That must’ve meant Maylily had become close enough to the Count to be invited and visit his territory. And the fact that Maylily had been able to come up with Daisy’s tuition for fashion school likely wasn’t unrelated to the Count either.

Despite all those assumptions, Maylily hadn’t said anything, so Diane also stayed silent, pretending not to know. Waiting for the day the girl would tell her the truth.

But for that relationship to have ended.

When she thought of the time Maylily must’ve had to endure alone while she hesitated, not knowing what to do, her heart grew heavy as if a lump of iron had been set on it.

“Yes, I know.”

“Recently, we had business with Miss Aile and tried to contact her, but it seems she’s left Roden. I came because I thought her family might know where she is.”

“She said she received a job offer from an opera company in Cartia, so she was going. She also said she had to leave suddenly, so it might be hard to contact us until she got settled.”

Diane spoke while recalling the contents of the letter she received from Maylily last week. The man, who had kept a calm expression the whole time, tilted his head.

“Cartia?”

“Yes.”

“Which city’s opera company did she say it was?”

“She only said an opera company in Cartia….”

“Did Miss Aile come to Purdshire in person to tell you?”

“No, I received a letter.”

“I see.”

The man’s expression grew quite serious as he fiddled with the temple of his glasses. Diane instinctively felt that something was wrong.

“Why are you looking for May? Did something happen to her?”

At the sharp voice, the man, pulled from his thoughts, shook his head and smiled awkwardly. “No. We’re simply looking for a way to contact Miss Aile. I’m sorry to have caused needless worry. Thank you for your time.”

After confirming he didn’t have the information he was looking for, the man left the shop after offering a polite farewell. When the bell’s sound, shaken as the door opened and closed, finally died away, Jace stopped what he was doing and walked over to Diane.

“So it doesn’t look like the Count of Everscourt arranged that new job. And from the way he talks, it sounds like the patronage ended too. What on earth happened….”

“Sob.”

Diane, who’d been staring blankly at the door the man left through, suddenly buried her face in both hands and began to sob. Startled, Jace wrapped both hands around her shoulders.

“You’re crying? Why are you suddenly crying?”

“Jace, I think something bad happened to May….”

If what Maylily wrote in her letter was true, then for the Count of Everscourt, finding out the girl’s new affiliation wouldn’t have been anything at all. It felt strange that he sent someone all the way here to ask around.

Hastily wiping her tears, Diane pulled out Maylily’s letter she’d kept in the drawer.

…I think I’m going to be extremely busy getting adjusted. I might not be able to write for a while. Even in moments when you can’t reach me, I’ll always be doing well, so please don’t worry.

…I wanted to see the family before leaving Riverton, but I’m sorry I’m saying goodbye by letter instead.

…I always miss you and love you, Aunt. Everyone in the family, please always stay healthy.

Only now did Diane realize why she’d felt an inexplicable unease the first time she read this letter. It was a farewell letter.

Then did that mean Maylily had hidden herself somewhere no one knew, somewhere even the Count of Everscourt couldn’t find. What in the world happened to that girl to make her….

– From your eldest, Maylily

Thick tears dropped, one after another, from Diane’s eyes as she traced the last line with her fingertips.

I should’ve held her hand at Dunwell Station and brought her home…. The regret she’d carried in her heart all this time lifted its head again without restraint.

She’d tried to love Maylily like her own child, calling her “my eldest,” but because she wasn’t a child she’d borne in pain herself, she couldn’t force anything on her. She’d thought she had no right to involve herself in the girl’s life.

And so, even while she sensed Maylily’s unhappiness, she only watched. Because she didn’t want to be resented or hated for anything. Even as she always said they were family, she couldn’t make a home the girl could return to without hesitation.

Thinking of Maylily, who would be wandering alone in some unfamiliar place as the weather grew colder, Diane’s heart collapsed with a crash.

“Where did May go…? She’s a child whose only relatives are us….”

“Where would May go? It says it right there in the letter. That she got into an opera company in Cartia.”

“Somehow… I don’t think that’s it. I was too… cowardly. I shouldn’t have left her like that….”

“Why are you blaming yourself that much? Where else would you find an aunt like you. You did what you could for May.”

Jace offered his rough comfort to Diane, wiping her tears, then noticed a single carriage parked in front of the building across the street outside the window. Under the faint streetlight, it didn’t move from its spot even after Diane’s tears finally stopped.

***

David returned to the carriage and once again lowered his head before Hugh’s quiet gaze. Then, before any expectation could rise in those pale gray-blue eyes, he spoke the conclusion first.

“I’m sorry.”

It would’ve been enough to dispatch informants and investigate, but the fact that Hugh had set everything aside and come personally was proof of just how desperate he was. Yet despite that effort, there was no harvest.

“She told her family she’d transferred to an opera company in Cartia.”

Neither David nor Hugh failed to know it was a lie Maylily had made up to reassure her family as she vanished.

As the report continued, Hugh didn’t show any particular reaction. Only the disappointment and emptiness lodged in his eyes, dark like a night sky with neither stars nor moon, bore a clear color.

That expression reminded David of five-year-old Hugh Skaard, who had fallen into deep despair and shock after losing his mother. That child whose eyes had been precarious, like an abandoned beast.

“I don’t think the Brooks couple were lying. I’m sorry we couldn’t achieve any results, Count.”

David finished his report with that apology, which had become routine. Even though Hugh had never gotten angry or asked for accountability, whenever five-year-old Hugh Skaard came to mind, the words of apology flowed out on their own from deep inside him.

Hugh, letting out a deep sigh as he swept his hair back, couldn’t bring himself to give the order to depart. A dark shadow fell over the side of his face as he turned his gaze to the carriage window, sunk in thought.

Across the dark road, inside the grocery store, the Brooks couple sat side by side at the counter. Even from afar, he could clearly see the woman’s shoulders shaking as she wiped away tears. Hugh’s eyes, watching them, sank heavily, holding expectations burned black and aimless lingering attachment.