"I told you, *here!* How many times do I have to tell you?"
The capital coachman grumbled irritably at Eloise's muttering.
Then, glancing at the house himself—as though understanding her feelings—he spoke sympathetically:
"What kind of story does this young lady have that she came to such a place... Hey, miss. You're not planning on staying in this wreck, are you?"
He clicked his tongue.
*A wreck.*
Yes. There was no other word that could describe the house before her so accurately.
The pale yellow paint on the walls was peeling and flaking away, and ivy had grown so thick over the facade that it seemed as though the house were drowning in vegetation.
The wooden front door was warped and badly cracked—unlikely to provide protection from wind, let alone insects.
The windows, broken in several places, only added to the house's ominous appearance.
"They said people live here..."
But there was no sign of anyone anywhere.
At that moment, Eloise remembered her father's words about this property.
*"They were unhappy about me inheriting the money, but when I left, they relented easily. They seemed ashamed of themselves for making such a fuss about it."*
Still, it was a three-story mansion in the capital. He'd said it would be better if Eloise went herself, checked who lived there, and arranged for part of the rent to be sent to Godmother's children.
But judging by the mansion's appearance—*what rent?* The inheritance tax would be enormous.
"What are you going to do? Stay here? Or should I show you a hotel instead? I know a good one—well-bred young ladies often stay there. Very decent place. A bit pricey, of course, but you'll definitely like it."
*Why would such young ladies stay at a hotel?*
It seemed the coachman was planning to take her to his affiliated establishment and overcharge her.
In such cases, magazine novels could be useful.
Stories of women freshly arrived in the capital being deceived this way were nauseatingly common at the beginning of romances.
Eloise, seeing through his cheap trick, shook her head and opened her bag.
After some rummaging, she found the address her mother had written for her.
"Then please take me here."
When she handed it to the coachman, his eyes widened.
It was a district where expensive mansions stood—and the place Eloise requested was the residence of Baron Fairfax, which every coachman in the capital knew.
"Ah, so the young lady knows aristocrats. No wonder your speech is so refined."
The coachman, with belated flattery, hastily reloaded Eloise's luggage—which he'd already unloaded—back into the carriage.
Whatever the reputation of the aristocracy after the war, when titles were being distributed liberally, the Fairfaxes were a fairly old and respected family.
If she could approach such a house with such confidence, then most likely she was from nobility herself.
The coachman, changing his tone to one of extreme politeness, stowed the luggage and took his seat. Eloise also climbed into the carriage and closed the door.
*I wanted to stay there if possible...*
The last time she'd seen Baroness Eugenia Fairfax was several months before leaving for Feltham.
Before that, while they lived in the capital, she had been quite welcoming. But when she learned they were departing for Feltham for an extended period, she'd said with bewilderment:
*"Oh, Grace. Feltham? You're going to some place I've never even heard of? You, who were called one of the ten roses of society? Wouldn't it be better to simply hire a governess and send Eloise there? At her age, she can live alone."*
At the same time, there had been a slight annoyance in the look she'd given Eloise.
It seemed she didn't appreciate her close friend leaving the capital because of her daughter.
*Besides, when I refused to make my debut, she sent dozens of letters.*
As soon as Eloise turned sixteen, Baroness Fairfax had begun sending letters to Mrs. Severton like mad—demanding that Eloise be brought to the capital immediately.
But at that time, Eloise's illness had not yet passed, and Mrs. Severton refused her friend.
After this, letters from Baroness Fairfax arrived less frequently.
So Eloise felt somewhat awkward going to her house now. If they were close, it would be different—but visiting a relative from whom she'd been estranged for so long felt like arriving as a freeloader.
*I need to find out about Ryan and Philip as soon as possible.*
*If I go to army headquarters, I can discover where they were transferred and what happened to them.*
Imagining the face of her lover, whom she would soon see again, Eloise gazed out the window.
On this unfamiliar street, she could trust only herself.
---
The carriage traveled for a long while and finally stopped at Baron Fairfax's townhouse.
As a child, she'd thought of it as a fairly decent mansion. But now the Fairfax townhouse looked incredibly luxurious.
Wisteria twined around the entrance, complementing the matching pale lilac walls. Not a single stain marred the window frames. Clean glass. A manicured garden.
Anyone would understand this was the house of a very wealthy person.
When the carriage departed after dropping Eloise off, she approached the entrance and knocked.
After a moment, a man who appeared to be the butler emerged and, looking at Eloise, said:
"Did you come by prior arrangement?"
The look he gave her clearly said, *"Since you didn't arrange this, what are you doing here?"* A cold look—like the kind one gives street vendors.
Eloise straightened her shoulders and spoke confidently:
"No, but please tell Lady Fairfax that Eloise Severton has arrived."
"I see... Please come this way."
Perhaps her confident demeanor impressed him. The butler, softening his haughty manner slightly, escorted Eloise into the reception room.
Like all aristocratic reception rooms, the Fairfaxes' was exceedingly luxurious.
Not to mention the hunting trophies that seemed to have been collected by the baron's ancestors, portraits of famous military men from their family hung everywhere—making it immediately clear who they were.
*When I was a child, I thought it was simply a rich house.*
Nothing in this reception room had been placed casually. The wealth and prestige of the Fairfax family were evident throughout.
*Mother lived like that too.*
The house where the three of them had lived in the capital—though not as grand—had also been quite respectable.
Mother had spent her entire life in the world of such people.
Seeing it again now, she could scarcely believe her mother had abandoned all this luxury and gone to Feltham. To save her daughter. To leave all this behind...
Lady Fairfax must have felt sorry as well. Wasn't that why she'd written to Mother like that, asking when she would return?
With these thoughts, Eloise waited for Lady Fairfax.
She sat there for quite some time. Apart from the maid who brought tea, no one else entered the reception room.
Eloise raised her head and checked her watch. An hour had passed since the butler left to deliver her message.
*Has she really forgotten about me?*
It seemed so—because no one had entered the reception room.
*Should I go out and find the butler again? But that seems impolite.*
*And I can't wait forever.*
She wanted to leave her things and go immediately to army headquarters.
As Eloise began tapping her foot impatiently, footsteps sounded in the hallway.
A moment later, the door opened and Lady Fairfax—dressed in a luxurious gown—entered the reception room.
"Oh, Eloise! How many years has it been? Do you even remember me?"
The lady approached with a joyful expression and gave her a light embrace. But their bodies barely touched.
Her actions made Eloise glance down at her own dress for a moment.
*Is there a dirt stain on it?*
But her clothes were fine.
Lady Fairfax stepped back and looked Eloise up and down.
At that moment, Eloise saw the corners of her lips lift slightly. It was a smile.
*What is this?*
She wondered if she'd imagined it, but Lady Fairfax immediately changed her expression and said:
"I received a letter from your mother. She says you need to stay in the capital for a while on business?"
"Yes. I don't think it will be long. About a week—"
She thought that would be enough time to discover what had happened to Ryan. But at that moment, Lady Fairfax spoke again:
"What do you mean, *a week!* You've lived in that village for so many years—there's so much you need to see in the capital. Besides, our Beatrice just happens to be here preparing for the winter social season. You remember Beatrice, don't you?"
She vaguely remembered. A girl a little younger than herself. Lady Fairfax's daughter.
"You don't know the capital's affairs, so Beatrice will be of great help to you. And..."
Lady Fairfax looked at Eloise with what appeared to be sympathy and said:
**"It's not proper for an unmarried girl who's past marriageable age to go out alone. So be sure to go together."**
At these words, Eloise understood.
Lady Fairfax's gaze was a mixture of sympathy—and a touch of mockery.