SMR | Chapter 33

~Chapter 33~

“Some people say I was heartless for cutting off her guardianship while she was in the convent, but think about it—how could I possibly live with Harriet and keep supporting her? Just imagining the chaos she’d cause… whew, it makes me sigh.”

Trisha sipped her tea quietly, not offering much of a response. John, somewhat relieved that she wasn’t firing back sharply, put on a serious expression.

“Why do you think Harriet suddenly clung to an aunt she hadn’t contacted before? I’m sorry to say this, but with no family around to speak the truth, she probably thought she could sweet-talk you easily. She lies so well—I’m sure she said all kinds of awful things about me and Bella. I know how she is.”

“Hmm…”

“You need to end her guardianship and throw her out. If you get too involved, your peaceful later years could turn into a mess. If it’s hard for you to do it yourself, I’ll help you.”

At that, Trisha finally put down her teacup.

“John. Harriet hasn’t said a single word about you or Bella.”

“W-what? I see. Well, maybe she figured any lies would get found out anyway.”

“Is that it? She told me that no matter what she says, it’ll sound one-sided, so she’d suggested that rather I just observe her and ask questions once I feel I can truly trust her.”

John’s heart sank.

“She knows how to manipulate people! She says things like that so she’ll look good to anyone who hears her!”

“I actually think Harriet’s right. What you’re saying right now sounds one-sided to me too.”

Trisha gave a small, crooked smile.

“So you and Harriet are no different in my eyes. I’ll decide who to trust based on what I see.”

“You’ll regret—!”

“But John,” she interrupted, her smile vanishing instantly. Her sharp gaze made John instinctively draw in a breath.

“Even if you didn’t like Harriet, how could you cut off her guardianship without giving her a single penny? Do you know how much Arthur gave you? And you abandoned his daughter?”

“Abandoned? I raised her for ten years! I’ve done my duty!”

“You know the law changed twelve years ago, right? It allowed daughters or wives to inherit noble titles.”

John flinched slightly, as if struck in a sore spot.

“Arthur died suddenly without writing a will. Harriet was underage. She had no one on her side, so you were lucky enough to inherit the title. Considering all that, you should’ve at least given her some money to start her life!”

Trisha slammed her hand on the tea table, spilling tea from John’s untouched cup.

Despite her frail appearance, the old lady’s authority was overwhelming. John felt like a scolded child.

“That law is useless. Who would ever do something so crazy as letting a woman inherit a family title…?”

Muttering to himself, John froze after saying the word crazy. Only then did he realize where he was—sitting in front of the lioness of the Phelon family, Trisha Phelon herself!

He quickly shut his mouth, but the words couldn’t be taken back.

“My husband did that so-called ‘crazy’ thing. And more and more people will follow.”

“Ah, no, that’s not what I meant—”

“Before you say something you truly can’t take back, you’d better leave. But remember this.”

Trisha pointed directly at John with her index finger.

“Whatever happened in the past, Harriet is now under my protection. If you try to lay a finger on her, I’ll consider it the Viscount of Listerwell declaring war on the Phelon family. So keep that in mind.”

“W-what? Aunt!”

“You know better than anyone what happens to people who take me lightly.”

Oh, he knew. John had tried to get something out of Trisha before and was completely crushed. He knew very well she was serious.

“You may leave now.”

She pointed toward the door.

***

Leaving the Phelon estate with nothing but a worsened situation, John angrily ruffled his hair.

“Damn it! That cursed old hag. The way she talked… could she already know about Perillas?”

Now that he thought about it, it made sense. Why else would Trisha support Harriet—who had nothing to her name?

“Is she afraid someone might take her away? I’m the Viscount of Listerwell. My brother’s entire fortune should belong to me!”

Grinding his teeth, John climbed into the carriage. But he didn’t head straight home.

There was only one road leading to the Phelon estate. Which meant Harriet, if she was out, would have to come back the same way.

After waiting for about an hour, a small carriage bearing the Pellon family crest appeared, heading in his direction. Since Trisha was at home, the only one who could be riding in a Pellon carriage was Harriet.

As previously instructed by John, his coachman approached the oncoming carriage and asked the other coachman to stop.

“Stop! Please hold the horses for a moment!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!”

Caught off guard by John’s sudden approach, the Pellon coachman had to quickly pull the reins.

Inside the carriage, Harriet was nearly thrown off balance from the sudden jolt.

“What’s going on?”

It couldn’t possibly be a robbery this close to the Phelon estate.

Just in case, Harriet tightly gripped the small hammer kept inside the carriage and looked out the window—then nearly screamed. Right outside the carriage window, incredibly close, was John’s face.

“Harriet! Open the door. Now!”

John barked from inside the opposite carriage. Despite not having seen his niece in a year—after betraying and abandoning her—there wasn’t even a trace of guilt on his face.

For a second, Harriet considered using the object in her hand, but she took a deep breath to calm herself. The revenge she had in mind wasn’t something as small as inflicting a little harm.

Putting on her brightest smile, Harriet opened the carriage window.

“Uncle? It’s been a while. What brings you here?”

Her confident and unshaken demeanor seemed to get under John’s skin. His eyes widened in anger. He looked like he was about to yell, but ended up just mumbling, unsure of what expression to make. Eventually, he spoke in a low, threatening voice.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, or how you managed to charm Aunt Trisha, but if you so much as try to tarnish Bella’s name, I won’t stand for it. I’ll do whatever it takes to kick you out of Genoa!”

John’s furious expression—baring his teeth and glaring—was exactly the same as it had been a year ago. Not a single thing had changed.