SMR | Chapter 41

~Chapter 41~

Catherine shook her head again.

But Harriet, with a brighter smile, grabbed Catherine’s hand.

“Of course, I don’t know if this business will succeed or fail. But I can guarantee that the quality of the convent’s products is excellent, and the attention I’m getting right now will translate into popularity for the convent’s products. People don’t realize just how much attention I’m getting.”

When Catherine still hesitated, Harriet tightened her grip on her hand and spoke again.

“Director, I didn’t plan this business just to make money for the convent.”

“Then?”

“There are many monks and girls in the convent who don’t want to become priests, but they have no other choice. I thought this could open a new path for them.”

At those words, Catherine and Agnes looked as if they had been struck from behind. It wasn’t betrayal; it was realization.

The issue that had been too familiar and forgotten now seemed to have a possible solution. Finally, Catherine’s heart was moved.

“If, as you said, the soap sells well…”

“We could run the workshops independently. A portion of the profit could go to the convent’s operating costs, and the rest could be used for the workers’ salaries, so even the girls who don’t want to become nuns could have their own lives.”

Catherine, with her dry hands fidgeting, fell into deep thought.

Harriet’s plan had no flaws.

If the business succeeded as planned, the convent would have more funds to operate, and the charitable projects for the poor and education for abandoned girls would receive a boost. Having a steady income was very important.

But there was a major issue.

“But to start such a big business, we would need money. How do you plan to get the funds?”

Harriet took a deep breath. From here on, it wasn’t just about plans; it was about determination.

“I’ll find investors. That’s why I came to get your approval first.”

“Do you think that’s possible? Our convent isn’t well known…”

“I’ll find a way to get investment. But in return…”

She clasped her hands together and made a request.

“Please make an exclusive contract with me.”

***

After securing an exclusive contract with Catherine, Harriet spent the entire journey back to Genoa thinking about investors.

“I talked big to the Director, but finding investors won’t be easy.”

Thanks to Trisha’s influence, she had successfully reentered high society, but people still had little trust in her.

At Annabel’s tea party, a few young ladies had shown some positive interest, but if she asked them for investments, there was a high chance she would lose the relationships she had just started to build.

‘Anyone decent out there?’

As she neared the Genoa city gate, she thought of everyone she knew, even her uncle.

Harriet planned to visit a few noblewomen Trisha had introduced to her. These women seemed interested in soap or cosmetics businesses and appeared to have the necessary funds.

‘Everyone’s curious about the secret to my improved skin, and I have the answer. With my popularity, someone will definitely see the potential in this business.’

If that failed, she was willing to borrow from the bank. She might not be able to borrow a huge sum, but with a good start and positive results, she could borrow more later.

As she was making these plans and passing through the city gate, a large carriage raced ahead of the others and went through the passage first.

No one objected, and the family seal on the side of the carriage suggested it had been granted priority passage.

Harriet looked at the back of the carriage with a mix of envy and curiosity, then opened the window and asked a merchant who was waiting nearby.

“Excuse me, do you know which family the carriage that passed first belongs to?”

The merchant, suddenly questioned, looked Harriet up and down, and answered gruffly.

“It looks like a noble young lady, but I don’t know which family the seal belongs to.”

“I’ve been away for a long time, recovering in the countryside.”

“Oh… That carriage belongs to the Kylas Duke’s logistics carriage. Since it went through first, it’s probably carrying goods related to the royal business.”

At that moment, Harriet realized she had forgotten to consider Cedric Kylas as an investor.

“Why didn’t I think of him?”

Aside from his wealth, he had a connection to St. Clarissa Convent. Didn’t he visit last year during the Feast Week and make a large donation?

‘Not only would there be business potential, but I could also present it as an opportunity to help the convent!’

Of course, she didn’t want to meet him if she could avoid it. His superior attitude and vague words always made her feel uneasy.

‘Besides, it seems like he doesn’t like me.’

She almost mistook it as an apology when a muffler and hat were sent to her, thinking, ‘Was he that sorry for me?’ But when she thought back to the events at the Vanderbilt party, she realized he probably had negative feelings toward her.

Still, the business currently being carried out by St. Clarissa Convent was started with his donation, so if she emphasized that connection, she might be able to gain some sympathy.

‘And he’s not the type to go around bragging about receiving a business proposal from me. It’s better to try targeting Duke Kaylas first.’

At times like this, pride should be set aside. If it meant getting an investment from him, she was even ready to apologize for her past behavior.  It’s not humiliation; it was more like a “strategic retreat,” wasn’t it?

Thinking this way, her motivation soared… then immediately sank.

‘But would the Duke even agree to meet with me?’

I’m just an ordinary noble, with nothing to boast about. And when I think about the conditions he attached when he offered financial support, it seems like he really dislikes the idea of his name being associated with Harriet Listerwell.

If I apply for an audience, the chances of it being rejected at the assistant level are 99.9%.

A sigh escaped me.

‘Well, I’ve got nothing to lose, right?’

I might as well try as much as I can.

Harriet decided to prepare the business plan to present to investors as thoroughly as possible.

***

“That’s all for today’s report.”

After confirming the last agenda item, Roxana tidied up the documents.

Her employer and benefactor, Trisha, closed the cap on her fountain pen, sighed lightly, and stood up.

“Hot tea is ready.”

“Thank you, Roxie.”

Thanks to Roxana’s ability to always be a step ahead and prepare everything, Trisha didn’t feel scared sitting alone in the house.

Sitting at the tea table, she remained still as Roxana draped a knee blanket over her. Even though it was a hot day, she didn’t break a sweat.

“I heard Harriet is up to something. Have you heard anything?”

At Trisha’s question, Roxana furrowed her brow slightly and remained silent for a while. After drinking a cold beverage, she seemed to make up her mind and spoke.

“How far do you intend to go in taking care of Harriet?”

“Why? Do you think I’m going to get backstabbed by her?”

“I know you have an excellent eye for people, Madam. But, well, when it comes to Harriet, it seems like you’re influenced a lot by past connections. Her reputation shouldn’t be fully trusted, but we can’t just ignore it either, can we?”

Roxana, saying something similar to what John had said, made Trisha laugh lightly.

“Maybe. But that’s not a reason to not help her. A rich old man can easily help someone out if he feels like it.”

At those words, Roxana’s cheek turned red.

“Well, it’s a bit funny that I’m saying this about Harriet, considering I’m one of the people she helped.”

Roxana was one of those whom Trisha helped out when she was “helping people out of the kindness of her heart.”

Harriet could call Trisha her great-aunt, but Roxana, being the daughter of the late Oster’s sixth cousin, was essentially a stranger to her.

Her mother had run away early, tired of her husband’s reckless behavior, and her father had spent what little fortune they had on alcohol, gambling, women, and even mysterious drugs.

Neglected by her parents, Roxana had grown up differently from them, with a sharp mind.

“I heard that the Pellon family is the main branch of our family! I’m Roxana from the distant Balbanas family! Count, please help me!”

It was when Roxana was fifteen, drenched in rain and sweat, shouting while gripping the iron bars of the Pellon family’s front gate.