Guidelines for the Perfect Goodbye - Chapter 266
Caroline could hate them all. She had the right to.
But what could she truly accomplish by hating them?
Even if she vented all her anger, what would change?
Nothing. Nothing would change—only her own life would become more exhausting.
Yet, there was one person she could hate without hesitation.
Cecilia.
The daughter of a gypsy, looked down upon by all.
And yet, the one now basking in the love that—
Ah, no. That was poorly phrased.
The love that she should have received.
When the scandal between Nigel and Cecilia first erupted, Caroline had been merely shocked.
But soon, laughter had spilled from her lips.
“It’s obvious that you will fall apart.”
Yes, Caroline’s reputation might suffer a minor crack, but Cecilia—she would be utterly destroyed.
With this, Caroline would never have to see her again.
She would no longer have to compare her situation to hers, nor pretend that she was her dear older sister.
Cecilia would be sent to a convent.
If not, she would waste away, trapped in Coffret Manor like her mother.
Or perhaps she would be married off to some old man in the middle of nowhere.
…That was what she had thought.
“Because there was no way Nigel Rosencrantz could have truly loved someone like you.”
But Cecilia had not crumbled.
The man whom Caroline had believed to be merely toying with her had chosen to protect her.
And with that, her father and Bernarda had begun to see a new possibility—
A renewed connection to the Rosencrantz family.
Not through her—but through Cecilia.
“…Hah.”
Caroline’s lips curled into a feeble, trembling smile, as if she were about to cry.
A clownish grin stretched across a once-elegant face.
She was the only one who had been abandoned.
Ulysses had discarded her long ago.
And now, she was on the verge of being discarded by Christian as well.
“If Cecilia marries the heir of the Rosencrantz Marquisate, my marriage prospects will be completely pushed aside.”
If she waited for her father to arrange a new match, she would miss her prime years.
And there was no guarantee that the match her father chose—a man whose only concern was wealth—would be to her liking.
So she had to secure one for herself.
Something far greater and more valuable than what Cecilia had taken.
Of course, that didn’t mean she would simply leave the things Cecilia had taken untouched.
She might not be able to take them back, but she could certainly ruin them.
“Even Logan Harper is too good for you.”
A gypsy’s daughter, hah.
How dare she aspire to be a marchioness?
“What a greedy thing.”
…But was it really just greed?
“No…”
No. No. No. Absolutely not.
That girl just wanted to be like her.
She must have been bitter about her engagement to the Rosencrantz family.
That was why, of all people, she had entangled herself with Nigel Rosencrantz.
“Out of jealousy for me.”
…Jealousy?
Her?
Could that really be true?
“……”
Slowly, Caroline lifted her head.
A round mirror reflected her desolate face.
“Ugh…!”
A sudden wave of nausea surged up.
Caroline quickly turned away from the woman in the mirror.
As her emotions gradually receded, her reasoning returned—though it was more an act of self-preservation than true clarity.
She wiped away any visible traces of her feelings and stood up.
Then, without even glancing at the mirror, she turned her back on it and left the room.
Just then, a maid from the townhouse approached her, carrying a stack of letters on a tray.
Since she was the only one remaining in the townhouse, there was no need to sift through the recipients.
Even if a letter was addressed incorrectly, it could simply be excused as a mistake.
“This wasn’t meant for us.”
“Oh, um, really? I’m sure I confirmed the family name before accepting it…”
Caroline examined the plain envelope, turning it over in her hands.
There was no sender’s address.
There was a surname for the recipient, but it was a name she had never heard before.
“Return it.”
“But… this wasn’t sent by mail. It was delivered personally…”
“Oh?”
A privately delivered letter with an unknown sender.
Suspicious.
Carelessly returning it could entangle her in some troublesome security matter.
It would be safest to simply burn it.
But before that, she needed to confirm its contents.
“Open it.”
Caroline handed the envelope to the maid.
Without knowing any better, the maid unsealed the wax without hesitation.
“It’s just a handwritten letter.”
“Really? Give it to me.”
Caroline put on her gloves and scanned the letter.
…What is this? Was it truly delivered by mistake?
It was a letter from a company called D.H., sent by someone named Dan.
Just reading it gave her a headache.
She was about to hand the misdelivered letter back to the maid when—
Suddenly, a few familiar words caught her eye.
“Western… tea leaves… patent for cultivation and processing…”
Christian had boasted endlessly about his achievements.
Not long ago, he had bragged about pre-investing in inland tea farms that held cultivation technology during a supply shortage—reaping profits several times over in just two weeks.
[Once the trademark is registered and the patent for production technology is secured, exports to the southern markets will become viable. By monopolizing both sales and exports, the potential profit margins will be immense. This venture presents a significant advantage to early investors, as the greatest returns will be realized by those who secure their position at the outset.]
However, the letter was saying something entirely different.
