Episode 12- Basic Instinct
It was the morning of her parents' return. Martha woke up early. She walked around the mansion one more time. Every nook and cranny. Window sills, hallway carpets, drawing room sofa cushions, the dining table. There was not a single flaw. Of course, it was the work of someone else.
She could see the work that had been done over the past ten days. The flowerbeds were tidied. Lavender seedlings had been planted. The hallway was neat. The keys to the storage room were in Butler Maxim's hands. The kitchen hearth had been repaired.
Looking at them, Martha thought to herself, 'This is enough.' Lucy, who had been following beside her, said,
"My lady, what time are the Master and the Madam arriving today?"
"They said they would arrive around two o'clock in the afternoon."
"What are you going to wear?"
"Anything."
Lucy stopped.
"Anything? It is the day you welcome your parents."
Martha said as she walked.
"Is clothing important? As long as the heart is neat, that is all that matters!"
Lucy hurried ahead. Martha looked toward the entrance of the mansion. They are coming. A little past two o'clock in the afternoon, the sound of a carriage was heard. Martha and Edward stood side by side at the entrance. Looking at the carriage, Edward said,
"They have arrived. Are you nervous?"
Martha looked at Edward.
"Why?"
"I'm just asking."
Martha looked at the carriage again. Asking if she was nervous. Martha had first met Duchess Isabella and Duke Claude when she was twenty-five. It was the day she first entered this house as a lady-in-waiting. Since then, she had worked here for over thirty years. They were not strangers. Rather than strangers, she knew them all too well. That was the problem, Martha thought to herself.
The carriage stopped. The coachman opened the door. Duke Claude stepped out first. He was a man nearing fifty. His stern face remained unchanged even on the journey. Looking at that face, Martha thought, 'He hasn't changed. Even that gruffness.' After stepping out, Claude reached out his hand toward the carriage. He was extending his hand so Isabella could get out. But the moment she stepped, something caught on Claude's toes. It was the edge of the carriage's footrest. She staggered. Isabella nearly screamed. Watching the scene, Martha spoke.
"I guess being clumsy is just how it is now, then and now!"
For a moment, silence fell. Edward froze. Lucy froze. Claude froze. Martha realized what she had just said... Oh no. Martha immediately snapped back to reality.
"Ah, um, Father, are you alright?"
Claude looked at Martha. He looked at her for a long time. His expression seemed to be trying to read something. Then he simply said, "I'm fine." And he helped Isabella out. Martha let out a sigh. Edward spoke beside her in a very low voice.
"...What did you just say?"
"I didn't say anything."
"You said being clumsy is just how it is."
"You must have heard wrong."
"Serena."
"We have to greet Mother."
Martha stepped forward. Isabella got out. In her mid-forties. Her face still suited the title of the most beautiful woman in society. Despite the fatigue of the journey, her posture was upright. Isabella looked at Martha. Martha looked at Isabella.
Miss Isabella. That title naturally came to Martha's mind. Miss. When Martha first came to this house, Isabella was a Miss. Before she became a Duchess. Back when she was still known as a beauty of society. At that time, Martha was Isabella's lady-in-waiting.
'Do you know how much I styled her hair?'
Martha said, thinking this.
"Mother, you are here. Was your trip alright?"
Isabella looked at Martha. Her gaze was peculiar. It was a look trying to read something. It was unclear whether she was welcoming or wary.
"Yes, I had a good trip."
Isabella entered the mansion. Martha followed behind, thinking, what is with that look? The luggage was unpacked, and her parents went into their respective rooms.
Martha looked toward the room Isabella had entered. When someone returned from a trip entered a room, they had to unpack their bags and change into their travel clothes. She had to fix her hair again. Riding in a carriage for a long time would leave her disheveled. Martha naturally walked toward the room. Lucy followed and said,
"Princess, where are you going?"
"To Mother's room."
"Why?"
"I need to unpack and fix her hair."
"Young Lady."
Lucy grabbed Martha's sleeve. Martha looked at Lucy. Lucy spoke cautiously.
"That is for the Madam's ladies-in-waiting."
"Ah."
Martha stopped. She was right. Isabella also had a dedicated lady-in-waiting. That was their job. It was not Martha's job. Oh, this instinct of mine.
Martha sighed inwardly. Before the regression, when Martha first entered this house, Isabella was eighteen. A young lady who had just entered high society. Pretty, lively, and clumsy. She would get her dress buttons tangled while trying to button them herself, doze off and let her head droop while getting her hair styled, and slur her words from excitement at parties.
Martha took care of everything right beside her. If a button got tangled, she unbuttoned it and fastened it again. If her head drooped, she gently propped it up. If her pronunciation was slurred, she quietly corrected it later. She did this for ten years. When Isabella married Duke Claude, gave birth to Edward, gave birth to Serena, and became the respectable mistress of the House of Valois, Martha watched the entire process from the sidelines. The young lady who was eighteen back then has now become a Duchess in her mid-forties. Isn't she admirable? Martha thought.
That clumsy young lady has grown up like this. Her eyes felt a little hot. Martha looked up at the ceiling. Oh dear, why am I acting like this? Dinner was ready. The whole family sat at the table together for the first time.
Claude, Isabella, Edward, and Martha. As she sat down, Martha scanned the table. Helena had put a lot of thought into it. The menu was plentiful. She had prepared it especially well since her parents were returning.
Claude picked up his soup first. Martha picked up hers. But... when Claude picked it up, she noticed his spoon was hanging on the edge of the table. It was in an inconvenient position. Martha saw it. And her hand moved naturally. She was about to pick up Claude's spoon and move it to a more comfortable position.
Ah. She stopped. Claude looked at Martha. Martha picked up her own spoon as if nothing had happened. Claude looked at Martha for a moment, then moved his own spoon himself. Martha pinched her thigh inwardly. Keep your hands still, you hand. Isabella reached for some bread, but there was no butter knife. It would take time for the maid to bring one. Martha's hand moved again. She was about to push her butter knife toward Isabella... Ah, again. She pinched her thigh again.
Edward glanced at Martha. Martha pretended not to see and ate her soup. Isabella called Lucy over to take the butter knife. This time, it was Claude's turn. She thought it would be nice to have something to accompany the meat dish he was eating. Martha naturally reached out her hand, but... what's wrong with my hand today? She pinched her thigh again. This time, Edward looked at Martha openly. Martha avoided eye contact while eating her soup. Edward spoke very quietly.
"Why do you keep pinching your thigh?"
"I'm not pinching."
"I saw you three times just now."
"You saw it wrong."
Edward looked at Marta for a moment, then continued eating his soup. Isabella picked up her teacup and looked at Martha.
"Serena."
Martha looked at Isabella.
"I was worried about how things were going at home during my trip."
"It was fine."
"That Edward is home."
"Yeah, he's commuting to work."
Isabella looked at Edward, then back at Martha.
"As for the creditor matter..."
Martha glanced at Isabella for a moment.
"Did you know?"
"I heard a brief mention from Maxim before we left. He said there were five places."
"I've taken care of them all."
Isabella stopped.
"All of them?"
"There are places where we lowered the interest rate, extended the maturity, and even released the collateral."
Isabella looked at Martha. Claude looked at Martha as well. Edward spoke while eating his soup.
"Serena went to all of them herself."
"Her own?"
"With Maxim," Martha said.
"If you look at the creditor agreements, there were clauses that allowed for renegotiation. We used those."
Isabella looked at Martha for a while. Her gaze was different from what she had seen earlier at the entrance. It was a look of scrutiny. Martha cut her meat while receiving that gaze.
Claude said, "As for the estate matter."
"I'm going to go there myself next week with Edward. It seems there is a problem with the estate manager."
Claude looked at Martha for a moment and nodded. There was no word. However, Martha understood that nod. This was Claude's way. A nod instead of words was a sign of acknowledgment. Martha pretended not to notice and ate her meat.
After dinner, Edward and Claude went into the study. Martha watched the ladies-in-waiting clearing the table, then turned her gaze toward Isabella's room. She saw Isabella going upstairs. Martha's feet tried to move in that direction again. Again, again, again. Martha held back her feet. Lucy spoke from the side.
"My Lady, are you going over there?"
"No."
"You were trying to go."
"I'm not going."
Lucy looked at Martha. Martha avoided eye contact and walked toward the drawing room. As Martha sat in the drawing room, reflecting on the day, she heard footsteps. It was Isabella. She had gone into her room after dinner, but had come back down. As Isabella entered the drawing room, she saw Martha.
"You were here."
"Yes."
Isabella sat down on the sofa opposite. Lucy discreetly stepped out. A brief silence fell between the two. Isabella spoke first.
"Serena."
"Yes."
"What I said to Father at the entrance."
Martha looked at Isabella. Isabella looked back at Martha and said,
"You said he's just as clumsy now as he was then."
"That was a misspelling."
"A misspelling."
Isabella looked at Martha. Her gaze had been peculiar for a while. Martha met that look and naturally maintained her gaze.
Isabella said,
"How do you know your Father is clumsy?"
"You can tell just by looking."
"Just by looking?"
"He's just naturally like that."
Isabella looked at Martha for a moment and said,
"I was just fascinated that you noticed that side of your Father."
Martha picked up her teacup and said,
"You'll know if you live long enough."
It seemed to take Isabella a moment to accept those words. Then she smiled quietly.
"If you live long enough."
"Yes."
"To think you're saying that,"
Martha said, taking a sip of her tea. Isabella spoke.
"At the dinner table, too."
"Yes."
"You kept trying to do something but stopping."
Martha looked at Isabella. Isabella saw it; Martha thought to herself. Did she see me pinching my thigh, too?
"My hands just tend to get ahead of me."
Isabella looked at Martha. Her gaze warmed.
"Serena."
"Yes."
"I don't know how long it's been since we've all sat together like this for dinner."
Martha looked at Isabella. Isabella spoke while looking toward the dining table.
"Edward has come home, too. And you're taking care of the household chores like this."
Martha said nothing.
"You're even going around to the creditors yourself."
"Tell Father, too."
Isabella looked at Martha. Her eyes were moist.
"Our Serena has grown so much."
Martha looked into Isabella's eyes. Miss Isabella. She called that name inwardly. The person she had known since she was eighteen. A clumsy, lively, yet kind young lady. That young lady was now looking at Martha with the eyes of Serena's mother.
Martha felt something stuck in her throat. She forced herself to speak and said,
"I still have a long way to go."
"But you are doing well."
Martha did not answer. Isabella stood up from her seat and said,
"I'm tired, so I'll go inside first."
"Please rest."
As Isabella left the drawing room, she looked back once. She looked at Martha. Then she left. When Claude came out of the study, Isabella was waiting in the hallway. Claude looked at Isabella.
"Why aren't you going inside?"
Isabella said, grabbing Claude's arm.
"Honey."
"Why?"
"You know we have Serena."
He looked at Isabella. Isabella said,
"It looks like he's becoming a proper lady now."
Claude was silent for a moment. Isabella leaned on Claude's arm and said,
"She's visiting creditors herself, taking care of the household, and even making up with Edward."
"..."
"You kept trying to get me things at the table today."
"I saw it."
"Something has changed about her, my daughter."
Claude said, looking down the hallway.
"Yes."
It was brief. But for Isabella, that one word was enough. Claude walked to his room first. Isabella watched his retreating figure and smiled quietly. Tonight's dinner was a time when Isabella could feel the warmth of family she had always longed for.
[Lucy's Secret Shock Journal - Episode 12]
The Duke and the Duchess returned today.
Shock No. 1. The Duke tripped as he got out of the carriage, and the Princess reflexively said, "I guess being clumsy is just as bad now as it was then!"
And then she froze immediately. I froze, too. Young Master Edward froze as well. The Duke just said, "It's fine," and walked past. Shock.
No. 2: At the dinner table, the Princess pinched her thigh three times. I counted. When she stopped moving the Duke's spoon, and when she tried to push the Duchess's butter knife... When she stopped, when she stopped while trying to prepare some meat side dishes for the Duke. I imagine she must have a bruise on her thigh.
Shock No. 3: The Duchess came down in the evening and spoke with the Princess. I didn't hear the details, but the corners of her eyes were red when she came out.
Shock No. 4: I overheard the Duke and the Duchess talking in the hallway. The Duchess said, "It looks like our Serena is becoming a proper lady now." The Duke replied, "Yes."
The Duke replied, "Yes."
Hearing those words, my eyes welled up without me realizing it. The Princess is saving this house. Instinctively, pinching her thigh as she did so.
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