Chapter 14: 13

***

“Father?”

Madeline returned from a dinner party according to the usual tightly organized social schedule. She noticed things laid out in the townhouse. The atmosphere was suspicious. She didn’t understand it. It was ominous. She quickly called the maid, Dorit.

“Dorit, is my father sleeping? Why is there no sign of him?”

“Um, that’s…”

The maid hesitated. Her big blue eyes quickly became watery. Something was definitely out of the ordinary.

“Did something happen to my father?”

“Lady….”

Dorit, whose eyes were watery, suddenly burst into tears.

“What shall we do…”

Madeline had a hunch that her father had caused the accident. If preventing him from investing would have solved things, he wouldn’t have made that decision in the first place. After all, it was the father who would do what he wanted.

Leaving the crying Dorit behind, Madeline rushed up the stairs. She opened her father’s room without knocking and saw his backside sprawled on the bed.

“Father.” 

“Madeline… what a fuss. You’re a lady….”

Now does that matter? Madeline swallowed the snide remark in her stomach and calmly began to question the situation.

“What happened?”

“It’s …… no …..that……”

Baron Loenfield, who was lying on his side, turned to Madeline, and began to cry with a pale face.

“I’m the one who needs to die…I’m the one who needs to be killed….”

“Now, please calm down, it’s not a problem that can be solved by someone dying.”

Madeline quickly pulled the chair to the side of the bed. She tightened her father’s hand, somewhat painful but firmly.

“I need to know what the problem is to solve it.”

“We’re broke.”

The Baron muttered with a blank look on his face. He closed his eyes and fainted at the last word.

‘…really.’

What’s the use of knowing the future? If it goes this way.

Madeline closed her eyes still in a severe headache. 

* * *

The trading company in which her father invested a huge amount of money has gone bankrupt. A trading company instead of a farm. Does that mean chickens instead of pheasants? 

Not only was all the money at stake, but even the previous debts remained. The payment for the debt was possible, but that problem was that it could only be paid by selling the Loenfield mansion and all of the lands. 

Paying off the debt itself was not the problem. After that, she was at a complete loss as to how to live. How should a Baron and his daughter without a fiefdom live? How could an aristocrat without a fief be established in the first place? 

The Baron had lived without sweat in his hands. A major in theology and philosophy at Oxford, he was a dilettante who devoted his life to noble discussion and entertainment.

Madeline was equally incompetent. She felt like an idiot. She lived in detachment from the outside world like a flower in a greenhouse. She had lived peacefully within the protection of the Baron and the Count her entire previous life, and there was no way she would have the ability to diagnose a crisis.

Still, she had to get through it somehow. Madeline murmured as she walked around the banks of London. People stared at her, glancing at her, wondering if it was very strange for a young lady in a dress and a parasol to walk around the banking district alone.

She had to struggle while her father suffered while preserving his seat.

‘There’s no point in living my life again like this.’

And there was an even worse aspect to the situation. Her father went bankrupt earlier in this life than he had in the past. She might as well have let him do whatever he wanted. It was not her intention, but it was a way to force him to do other things. 

And so a stifling week passed. Father and daughter decided to dispose of their London townhouse in a hurry. The sale process was complicated and there was a lot of paperwork to prepare, but hiring experts was no easy task.

It was more correct to say that they were not aristocrats but fools who could do nothing. 

This was also a kind of education for Madeline. It was easy to buy, but difficult to sell. When you can’t afford to bargain, you will suffer losses. She didn’t want to learn it this way, but a lesson was a lesson. 

A week had passed since the incident, and it seemed that words had already widely spread in the social circles, as there were no invitations to parties. The rumor was that Baron Loenfield and his daughter went bankrupt.

The rumor would be that the Baron, whose reputation for generous spending of money had eventually become so. 

“Perhaps it is better this way.” 

It suddenly occurred to her that it might not be bad to advance the downfall. Besides, now they didn’t have debts of the tremendous magnitude of her previous life. If you roll up your sleeves and do anything at random, you might see a light of salvation. 

But Madeline herself did not know that the light of salvation would come from a place that was completely undesirable.

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* * *

A letter came. The address was printed in neat brushstrokes and there was a seal made of melted and hardened beeswax on the outer stitching. The seal was inscribed with a two-headed lion and the Nottingham family design.

The Baron’s hand trembled as he received it.

Baron Loenfield hurriedly opened the letter, feeling unbelievable. He could not believe his luck had come. It was the content of the letter, namely, that the Count of Nottingham, with so much money rotting away, invited the Loenfield father and daughter to hang out.

It wasn’t that there would be a party or a dinner party, but that it was a special invite only to the Loenfield father and daughter. So it was more than a little suspicious.

“Perhaps?”

He was well aware of the story that his daughter often danced with the eldest son of the Count of Nottingham.

According to the Marchioness, it was unusual between Ian and Madeline. She had even witnessed them talking alone together.

As a gentleman, he deliberately pretended not to know about it, but frankly, it was an intriguing story.

He was nervous to think that the Count’s son was interested in his daughter.

Of course Ian Nottingham was a popular gentleman. However, the Baron knew very well how men of blood and success could do bad things to young girls.

When the Baron of Loenfield was a young man, it was disrespectful in itself for a man and a woman who weren’t married to talk alone.

Although the atmosphere was more free now, social life was still rich in gossip and face-saving. Under such circumstances, to be involved with Ian Nottingham was risky.

But what if his daughter Madeline had succeeded in winning Ian Nottingham’s heart?

Then the Baron, or rather the Loenfield family, would be saved from hell to heaven in one fell swoop.

But Baron Loenfield deliberately chose not to reveal it. 

He knew his daughter. If he showed his intentions, Madeline, who had the temperament of a green frog, might cold water him for no reason. Moreover, he could have been rejected by the Count if he was too expected. He was not prudent in the management of his money, but he was very serious in such a marriage proposal. 

After placing the letter on the table with trembling hands, he put his hands together and prayed sincerely to God, whom he had been looking for in this life.

* * *

‘I don’t know what the hell you’re up to.’

Madeline was anxious. As soon as news of the Loenfields’ bankruptcy spread through London society, the Nottinghams’ personal letter arrived. The timing was very suspicious. Moreover, only her and her father were invited. It was even more suspicious.

‘Perhaps they wanted to discuss Isabel’s case.’

Madeline recalled Ian’s request that day. Perhaps he wanted to dig out more information from Madeline in relation to the matter.

Indeed, it was possible that the invitation was sent simply as a friendly gesture. It was also true that she often talked to the Nottinghams. Madeline thought she was an extremely boring woman, but it was impossible to know what they would think of her.

“I will write a letter of refusal.”

Madeline said nonchalantly, keeping her gaze fixed on the letter.

“What are you talking about? My daughter.”

“Father, you know we can’t afford to hang out anywhere. Besides, all the household goods in this townhouse need to be sorted out and sold.”

“Don’t be silly, Madeline.”

“Don’t be silly?” 

Madeline furrowed her brow as if she didn’t understand. Baron Loenfield stared at his daughter coldly.

“This letter is, in effect, an invitation sent to ‘you’ by the Count’s eldest son.”

“What does it mean? He is a popular man by nature. He would send an invitation like this to anyone.”

Madeline was sure Ian didn’t write this invitation himself. She automatically laughed. What was her father expecting? Did he still think they were still members of high society? She was about to explode in a hot fire at his stupidity. 

“Madeline. You’re my daughter, but you are too dull.” 

Baron Loenfield rose from his seat and immediately grabbed the invitation in Madeline’s hand.

“It is an invitation they sent knowing we were in this situation. Shrinking needlessly at a time like this will only make the situation worse.”

“…….”

There was a point to those words. There was no need to shrink and be shy first just because they went bankrupt. In fact, it might be better to ask for help shamelessly. It would hurt their pride, but now was not the time to think about such things.

“Okay, father. But don’t expect too much. The Nottinghams are wealthy, but they are not generous. I’m sure it’s an invitation from pity to see how we’re doing.”

Madeline sighed. Her head was spinning. Soon it was her job to clean out the townhouse. The second-hand furniture department was already full of decorative old furniture from the fallen aristocracy. Even if it was offered at a cheap price, it was not sold, because it was outdated.

The price of furniture and the irreversible nature of unchangeable destiny. Madeline felt herself endlessly shabby and powerless in the midst of it all.

There was nothing she could change.

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What if it was to flow according to the natural law of things?

Madeline slumped. Society was narrow, and the path ahead of her was even narrower.

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