Chapter 25
The Rutland House:
Mrs. Rutland was taken aback when she saw Liri, brought to the dinner table by her son.
It was the first vacation since sending him off to college.
Had he brought a female student from another city, at least her curiosity might have been piqued.
“My dear mother, you should hug me. Don’t look so shocked.”
Timothy, unaware of his mother’s feelings, dropped his bag and climbed into her arms.
But Mrs. Rutland’s gaze remained fixed on the bulky presence behind him—the one she had secretly hoped would be sent away.
“Mother, Liri came with me. Since the convent is gone, she has no one to spend Christmas with.”
At Timothy’s words, Mrs. Rutland finally nodded. She dared not say anything further, for fear her son might turn and leave immediately.
“Well… Liri, have you been well? It’s been a while.”
Unable to bring herself to say “come in,” she spoke with clipped words.
She knew her son well.
Mrs. Rutland decided it was better to treat Liri gently, so that she wouldn’t spark rebellion.
Mr. Rutland frowned slightly at Liri but said nothing, pulling out a chair to sit.
“Hello, uncle, aunt. I was worried I might make the family meal uncomfortable, so I almost didn’t come.”
“That’s…”
“Not at all. Liri, your parents said they’d be happy to see you.”
Timothy interjected with a laugh before Mrs. Rutland could say a word.
The prepared food was far too luxurious for an orphan. Mrs. Rutland had expected Liri to look awkward in front of the silverware.
But contrary to her expectations, Liri displayed impeccable manners.
She knew which fork to pick up and handled the knife skillfully. Mrs. Rutland had hoped her hands would be rough, like other maids, but they remained soft, and her face still delicate.
“How’s life as a lower-level hotel maid, Elizabeth?”
In the uncomfortable silence, Mrs. Rutland’s remark was clearly intentional. She wanted to remind Liri that different classes sat at this table.
“It’s fine. I even save on living expenses since I have accommodation.”
“Lord Belmore is very kind, not neglecting his noble duties.”
A faint smile flickered on Liri’s face, but she kept it composed.
“If it’s money for the convent and the nuns, I’d rather it be Lord Belmore’s money anyway.”
“How brazen,” Mrs. Rutland muttered.
She had heard rumors about Lord Belmore and the convent. But she felt that if she didn’t mock this composed girl in some way, she wouldn’t be able to endure her calm demeanor.
“Mother, stop it. On Christmas, thinking about someone you dislike is forbidden.”
Timothy’s face flushed slightly from the wine. His gaze was fixed on Liri.
Throughout the meal, Mrs. Rutland watched them carefully, even dropping a fork deliberately to see if Liri would reach for Timothy’s hand or playfully kick the floor.
If that happened, she would have an excuse to ruin the dinner and drive this girl away. The thought thrilled her for a moment.
Feeling the uncomfortable stares, Liri scooped chickpeas onto her plate. The fine china, reserved only for Christmas, wasn’t hers to use.
She ate quietly, trying to smile at Timothy’s jokes, but it was difficult.
“Liri, try some of this too.”
When she didn’t touch the meat, Timothy served her himself. Unable to bear it, Mrs. Rutland suddenly intervened.
“Timothy, go pick out some wine. We’ve run out.”
“You can’t complain about the wine I choose.”
“Will you bring wine for our wedding anniversary?”
Timothy rose willingly. That wine was only served when Mrs. Rutland was in a particularly good mood.
“You go with him. It’ll take him a while to find it.”
Mrs. Rutland gently nudged her husband’s back.
Amusingly, the scene reminded her of a past occasion—inviting orphans to feast to show off generosity and leisure.
The more one pitied the child, the higher their social standing seemed. It was still the same now.
“Will you have some too?”
After confirming that Timothy and her husband were gone from the dining room, Mrs. Rutland asked.
“Oh, no. I’m not good with alcohol.”
“Good. I wasn’t planning on giving you any.”
Liri set down her fork and studied Mrs. Rutland’s chilly expression.
“When a new family comes along… I mean, if Timothy finds a suitable match, this is the wine I would’ve shared. I heard he’s meeting someone, so I secretly hoped to enjoy it.”
Mrs. Rutland smoothed the rim of her empty wineglass with her fingers.
“If it’s you, Timothy might pour the wine enthusiastically, but you won’t be able to take a single sip.”
Liri paled, enduring the humiliating remark. The meat in her mouth felt rubbery.
“Aunt, don’t worry. I have no intention of being with Timothy.”
Seeing Liri’s slightly trembling shoulders, Mrs. Rutland’s icy expression softened.
If this girl had been cunning, she wouldn’t have suffered such indignity—but it was almost fortunate. Mrs. Rutland had always found stories of girls showing up unexpectedly pregnant more terrifying than any ghost story.
“I’m glad you’re a sensible and intelligent girl.”
Mrs. Rutland resumed her performance as the “kind Mrs. Rutland.”
“By the way, how is the nun? I heard she had a terrible headache from the carriage accident.”
“She’s a bit better with medicine. But we’re saving money to bring her to a large hospital in Londinium, in case the medication eventually stops working.”
“Londinium? That’ll cost a lot. The convent must still be struggling, right?”
Mrs. Rutland said sympathetically, causing Liri’s expression to harden. She was more vulnerable to pity than harsh words.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine.”
Mrs. Rutland placed a wine glass elegantly in front of Liri, acting as if she were a duchess.
“Someday, won’t you return to the convent to repay your debt to the nuns?”
Liri remained silent, and Mrs. Rutland exaggeratedly looked mournful.
“How about becoming a nun yourself?”
“That’s…”
“Better than just worrying or sending money, right?”
Mrs. Rutland stacked her hands over Liri’s. At that moment, Timothy approached with a new wine glass. Feeling his presence, Mrs. Rutland withdrew her hands.
“What were you two talking about?”
“Timothy, Liri must go home now.”
“Already? Liri, you haven’t finished your meal.”
“No, Liri needs to leave. Right, Liri?”
Mrs. Rutland smiled at Liri, who looked at Timothy.
“Yes. It’s too late. I should head back to the lodging now.”
Liri’s expression stiffened awkwardly.
“I’ll take you there.”
“It’s Christmas. You should spend it with your family.”
Before Timothy could intervene, Liri stood quickly.
“I’ve called the coach, so go comfortably. Timothy, stay seated.”
Mrs. Rutland spoke kindly.
“Merry Christmas, Liri.”
“Have a lovely evening.”
She even gave Liri a gentle hug.
Once Liri left, the three finally looked like a perfect, happy family. Outside the warm house, the harsh cold hit them immediately.
Timothy hurried to the entrance, shielding Liri with his heavy coat.
“Take this, Liri.”
He wrapped a wool scarf around her, concerned. It was too long; wrapped fully, it covered half her face.
“Thank you, Timothy.”
Liri’s muffled voice couldn’t reach him, but he smiled warmly. His brown eyes were filled with genuine concern.
“Liri.”
His lips brushed her round forehead and lifted immediately. Liri froze, staring blankly at him.
“No… nothing.”
Timothy Rutland should have confessed then.
Seeing his parents’ disapproving gazes, he realized it was wrong—but he had already brought Liri here. He should have pressed further, but he didn’t.
He brought her for her sake, a lonely girl without family, not to confess his feelings.
“Be careful inside.”
“I’ll take the carriage, so it’s fine. Go ahead, Timothy.”
Liri walked briskly through the Rutland garden. There was no coachman, but she expected that, so it didn’t bother her.
Timothy was the Rutlands’ only precious son. She had heard the admonitions to “know your place” so often, her ears were numb.
She feared hurting him needlessly. His excited face almost made her think he would confess, frightening her.
She didn’t have the space to fully receive someone’s love. For such a person, a confession wasn’t sweet—it left only bitter, lonely traces. She wanted to avoid it. Especially Timothy’s sudden confession.
Liri walked through the quiet residential streets to the darkened shopping district. One shop had forgotten to turn off its lights, spilling a warm yellow glow.
She paused in front of the display.
Inside the window were Kasha caramels, a singing bird music box, and a large snow globe holding a happy bear family.
She wished she could enter that cozy bear family buried in white snow. People seemed to call that love.
By then, a tear on the tip of her eyelash had frozen into a transparent shard of ice.
