Please Let Marriage Be Your Payment!,
Chapter 60 —
“What is all this?”
“Who knows when we’ll meet again? I thought we could have tea together since it’s been a while.”
Lenard personally set up the teapot, cups, sugar, milk, and snacks on the table.
Hot coffee poured from the gold-embossed teapot. Janice inhaled the aroma deeply and spoke, a little surprised.
“Coffee?”
“Why? Don’t you like it?”
“Not dislike… it’s just…”
Janice didn’t finish her sentence, holding the cup with both hands.
Lenard quietly chuckled to himself at her reluctance to bring the cup to her lips.
‘She must have been like this in front of Ellie too.’
He had suspected it—and he was right.
Instead of pointing it out, Lenard glanced around the room, breaking the silence.
“Looks like you’ve finished packing. All your bags ready?”
“Yes. Just finished. I barely grabbed one bag when I left in a rush, and now—look, I have four.”
Janice’s smile was half ironic as she surveyed the room.
Lenard pretended not to notice and added a bit of milk to his own coffee.
“Four?”
“Yes. Two were gifts: one Sir Hawk bought when I first arrived at the capital, and one from the Marquis. Another was bought by Mrs. Sarah with the allowance my brother gave me. The last one was a gift bag from Miss Elizabeth.”
As Janice counted on her fingers, Lenard tilted his head slightly.
“Then isn’t that five?”
“Four. Mrs. Sarah threw away the first bag I brought. Said it was time.”
“She’s right about that.”
Not just the bag, but all the dresses inside were probably worn out too. Lenard didn’t need to see inside to know—he knew Janice’s wardrobe situation.
To repay debts, she had sold expensive dresses whole, removed jewelry and lace from ones that wouldn’t sell, and cut remaining fabric into handkerchiefs to sell.
What remained were the clothes she couldn’t sell, which she wore repeatedly over three years.
“Honestly… I still don’t know. Even though these bags are packed as my things, is it really okay for me to take them?”
Janice glanced down at the dress she was wearing.
The purple silk clung gently to her skin. The size fit perfectly.
Yet, wearing it felt uncomfortable, as if she were wearing someone else’s clothes.
Fidgeting with the lace at her sleeves, she heard Lenard’s gentle laugh.
“That’s a coincidence. I had the same thought a few days ago.”
“Really? You too?”
“Yes. But remember, we went through something similar three years ago.”
After the countess died, her inheritance was lost, and the huge debt fell on them.
It took a month to adjust to the sudden change in life. If survival hadn’t been urgent, it might have taken longer.
“Now that I think about it… I felt unreal back then too.”
“It took time, but we adapted.”
“Otherwise, we’d have had no choice but… suicide.”
Janice couldn’t help but smile at Lenard’s serious yet darkly funny face.
Everything that troubled them had become nothing more than a joke.
“It feels unreal because it’s someone else’s. That’s why it doesn’t feel like yours yet.”
Lenard poured milk into Janice’s coffee and added some sugar cubes, smiling as he noticed her surprised eyes.
“Try it. It’ll taste good.”
He even stirred the coffee with a spoon. The black coffee turned a soft brown.
Janice hesitated, then took a sip.
“How is it?”
“…Good.”
Lenard offered more milk and sugar, silently saying she could add as she liked.
Ever since Elizabeth mentioned that Janice hadn’t touched the coffee she served, Lenard had imagined this moment.
Fresh milk and sugar cubes were luxuries to Janice now.
“Take the bags home. Put the clothes in your wardrobe and drawers. Wear each one. That’s when it’ll really feel like yours.”
“Do you really feel like everything you have is yours, Brother?”
Lenard thought for a moment, looking away.
“Well… at least my wife’s is.”
“Oh my!”
Janice’s eyes widened, covering her mouth. Lenard, embarrassed by his own words, rubbed the back of his neck and sipped his coffee.
Seeing one ear turn red, she quietly giggled.
“Then you can’t use it, Brother. You can’t have the angel all to yourself.”
“When did you start teasing me…”
“Oh, was it a slip? You don’t actually think that way?”
“You got me. Enough already.”
Lenard frowned, but Janice laughed louder.
“Enough? You have to tease while you can! Who knows when we’ll see each other again after I return to the county?”
Ah… she probably shouldn’t have said that.
Her smile vanished. The strangest thing wasn’t even that—they had changed homes, hers and Lenard’s.
“Why do you speak like we’ll never meet again?”
“Maybe not now… but next year?”
Janice paused, then said,
“By then, we won’t even be family.”
The blood connection is just a formality. What keeps them family is a single paper: the mercenary contract made by her mother and Lenard.
Luckily—or not—it’s still valid. After next year, when she comes of age and inherits the countship, it’ll be meaningless.
“I didn’t think you’d think like that, Janie.”
“I hadn’t until recently. But…”
She remembered exactly when it started—when Sir Hawk helped her before being taken by Harry Miles.
She was just grateful then. But the moment she received expensive clothes and jewels as the Marquis’s command, she felt uneasy, like attending a ball she wasn’t invited to.
‘Sir Hawk, why are you doing all this for me?’
‘Because you’re the sister of the man who will be our master’s husband.’
That’s why she couldn’t truly feel the gifts were hers—they weren’t hers. She wasn’t Lenard’s real sister.
“Brother… I thought of something.”
Her eyes stayed on the sweet-smelling coffee cup, avoiding him.
“How about… keeping the countship yourself?”
“What?”
She offered a plausible excuse:
“Wouldn’t the Marquis mind? If you gave me the countship, I’d just be a mercenary.”
“No, Lin said she liked it.”
“Excuse me?”
Janice looked at Lenard, shocked.
“Did you really tell the Marquis about the contract with my mother?”
“Yes.”
“If I hadn’t known, it would be a sham marriage.”
“Yes… but still.”
Janice was too surprised to speak, then asked finally:
“The Marquis really doesn’t mind? Really? How can that be?”
“How can it be? You’re judging me too harshly. Do I have no charm left without the countship?”
“If you take the countship from you… all that’s left is your face.”
Face is important, but it’s not the only factor when choosing a husband.
“Oh, the Marquis has money. He can take just a face as a husband.”
Jealous.
Unlike Irenea, who married a handsome husband because she could, this was a man she liked without considering conditions.
‘…If I earn enough money, can I do the same?’
Her ex-fiance left her because she had no money. She didn’t want that to happen again. She wanted to be the one who chose, not the one left behind.
Unaware of Janice’s thoughts, Lenard continued,
“I’m sorry, Janie, but Lin is looking forward to the day I officially become ‘Lenard Blair.’ Asked about your birthday too.”
“Lenard Blair…”
Changing his surname after marriage. Janice realized this wasn’t rare—many women change their names after marriage.
It’s both cute and concerning how Janice is framing things in her mind. XD