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“Mom, you can’t just ignore this! It’s a matter for the inner household-how can I interfere?” Leopold grew desperate.
Margaret pursed her lips together for a moment, then suddenly grabbed the cup by her bedside and slammed it onto the floor, shouting in fury, “Why is it always on me? I’m dying! When I’m gone, who will care about the affairs of this household?” The cup shattered with a loud crash, shards of delicate porcelain scattering across the floor.
One piece sliced Leopold’s hand, leaving a thin trail of blood. He furrowed his brow, his irritation growing. Seeing his mom was in such a state, however, he dared not oppose her for fear of being branded disrespectful to her.
“We can clear things up, but I won’t take Jessica back. If anyone else wants her, they can have her. Serena can go too. I’ve had enough of her.”
With that, he turned and left, giving orders to the servants to clean up the mess.
Margaret slumped back against the bed, her eyes closed, but tears fell freely from her eyes.
Useless!
The next day, Margaret personally invited a few storytellers to the estate to recount the entire situation to them.
The storytellers were taken aback.
Regardless of whether what
Margaret said was true or otherwise, Jessica had already been disgraced and the Marquis of Ironridge’s family had cast her aside. On the other hand, Emma had kept a spotless reputation, having borne a pair of children.
Why not just let the matter lie? After all, who could Jessica possibly rely on now?
To speak of this would damage the reputation of the Marquis of Ironridge’s family beyond measure. It didn’t seem like a wise choice.
Margaret noticed their hesitation and said solemnly, “I am ashamed. I once wrongly blamed Jessica, but now that know the truth, I must do right by her. It’s also a lesson for the future generations of my
WY
family-never trust just one side of a story.
“Only by listening to all sides can we truly understand. We must remain calm in the face of adversity, investigate thoroughly before making a judgment, and never let past mistakes cloud our judgment of the present.”
Margaret’s open and honest demeanor earned the admiration of the storytellers. They had seen their share of noble households, where scandals in the inner household were usually covered up at all costs-sometimes even at the expense of lives-to protect the family’s reputation.
A few days later, the rumors finally began to die down.
It was curious how fickle public opinion could be. After the storm of gossip, slander, and outrage, some began to look at Skye Embroidery in a new light.
It might be because some agreed with the articles written by those scholars, prompting other academics to interpret the situation more positively.
As one of the storytellers at the Ascension Coffeehouse had put it, Skye Embroidery was, at its core, a lifeline for women cast out of their homes. It wasn’t some earth-shattering rebellion against morality or societal order. Could it truly be so difficult for anyone to show even a sliver of compassion?
However, this line of thinking was shared only by a portion of the populace. Most still withheld their approval, though the vehemence of their opposition had lessened. Cooler heads began to prevail, even if grudgingly.
It was around this time that Leona, the Duchess of Everpeace, made a shocking move.
She stepped into the halls of Skye Embroidery and declared to the world that she was severing all ties with Harvey. She no longer recognized Harvey as her dad and announced that Skye Embroidery would henceforth be her home. This decision had not been made on a whim.
When Skye Embroidery had stood empty, with no one willing to take up residence, Leona had already considered moving in. She had discussed the matter several times with Alana and Leah. They had advised against it, saying it would seem too deliberate. They worried it would bring more controversy to the workshop rather than help it.
Even after the recent upheaval, Leona remained steadfast in her resolve. Alana eventually sought counsel from Sophie. Sophie personally met with Leona and had a long and private conversation with her. Afterward, Sophie gave her blessing on the condition that Leona publicly disavowed her ties to Harvey.
Since trouble was bound to come from Harvey, severing their father-daughter relationship would ensure Leona wouldn’t be implicated in the future.
Leona hadn’t made her decision with such practicalities in mind. Many things remained outside her awareness, but her parents’ actions or lack thereof had left her heart cold.
When she had fallen into trouble, her parents had turned their backs on her. When her grandfather faced tribulations, they still didn’t care or even visit him once.
–
After enduring her tumultuous marriage to Samuel, Leona had come to understand that some relationships could not be forced. Love was like that, and so was family. To force affection where it did not exist only led to pain for everyone involved. Letting go was better-for herself, and for them.
Back at Ironridge Estate, Leopold had Serena, tearful and hysterical, sent back to her family. Once she was gone, he dispatched someone to fetch Jessica.
At Skye Embroidery, Violet and Hannah were assisting Leona in settling in when the new steward from Ironridge Estate arrived to escort Jessica back. Seeing this, they assumed Jessica would be overjoyed to return.
Jessica had once been so desperate that she swallowed her pride and begged to stay at Skye Embroidery Now that she had the chance to return as the Marchioness of Ironridge, everyone assumed she would leave triumphantly. Perhaps, she might even sneer at those she left behind before striding out the gates.
Yet there she was, sitting on the stone steps in the main courtyard. Her arms were wrapped around her knees, and she was staring blankly ahead. She hadn’t said a word about leaving. Leona approached and settled beside her cousin. “Jessica, why aren’t you going?”
Jessica turned to her with confused eyes. “Going? Where would I go?”
“Back to Ironridge Estate to take your place as the Marquis of Ironridge’s wife,” Leona said gently.
Jessica didn’t reply. Instead, she absentmindedly pulled a tiny sprig of grass stubbornly growing from a crack in the stone. She tugged atit few times, but it wouldn’t budge. In her struggle, the sharp edge of the grass cut her finger. A drop of blood fell on the weathered stone.
She stared at her hand, then back at the small blade of grass, transfixed by its resilience.
“Oh no, you’re bleeding!” Leona exclaimed softly.
Selma quickly stepped forward with a handkerchief and wrapped it around Jessica’s finger. “What were you thinking? That grass wasn’t bothering anyone. Why tear at it like that?”
Her tone was sharp, as it often was when addressing Jessica. From the day Jessica arrived at the workshop, Selma treated her coldly.
In the beginning, Jessica had hated
Selma for it. She hadn’t just hated Selma-she had hated Hannah, the workshop itself, every last twig and stone in the workshop. She especially despised the broom, a symbol of the labor she had been forced to do just to earn her meals.
And yet, now, she could start a fire with ease. Who would believe it?
“Go on,” Selma urged. “Go back to your life. The steward has been waiting outside for ages. Are you putting on airs again? How many times must I remind you be practical and efficient?”
Jessica’s expression shifted, her face twisting into irritation.
“How many times do I have to tell you? Stop nagging me! You’re so annoying! People like you are impossible to tolerate. If I were the lady of the house, I’d never keep a servant like you around!” “Then go on back and become the lady of the house. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of obedient servants to dote on you there,” Selma shot back without missing a beat.
Jessica scoffed, lifting her chin. “Of course I’m going back! Do you think I’d stay here to look at the sour face of an old servant like you when I could be living a life of comfort?”
“Go on, then. Don’t bother packing your clothes-what need do you have for them when you’ll have every silk and satin you could wish for waiting for you at Ironridge Estate?” Selma replied tartly.
Jessica’s head snapped up, and she pointed an accusing finger at the older woman. “I’m warning you-don’t you dare touch my clothes! Once you’ve given them to me, they’re mine!”