Guidelines for the Perfect Goodbye - Chapter 177
“We’ve arrived, Miss.”
Just as she had earlier, Cecilia accepted the coachman’s assistance as she alighted.
The coachman bowed and left after dropping her off in front of the Rosencrantz mansion. Since Guinevere and Ulysses were still at the duke’s mansion, he was likely heading back to the party.
Guinevere never left a party early, and Ulysses, whether he wanted to or not, generally adapted to her social habits, so they probably wouldn’t return until dawn.
Cecilia looked up at the quiet Rosencrantz mansion, now without its owners.
“Let’s go inside, Miss. I’ll help you.”
“No, I’m not planning to go in yet.”
“What? Then…?”
“I’m going to a party.”
“…You’re going back?”
“The duke’s mansion isn’t the only place where a party is happening, is it?”
She still had the invitation. She had only picked it up after Guinevere discarded it, but it was still valid.
“But your health…”
Mary looked worried.
“Why don’t you just go inside and rest? I can give you a refreshing massage.”
“Today is my day, isn’t it? Can’t you let me do as I please for just one day?”
“…”
Mary had no right to refuse.
She called for another carriage, not the Rosencrantz one. With the social season in full swing, there were plenty of carriages waiting for late-night guests.
Cecilia got in with Mary beside her and told the coachman their destination.
“To the Odridge Viscountcy townhouse.”
* * *
It was well past midnight at the Odridge Viscountcy townhouse.
The Viscountess of Odridge sat by the entrance of the hall, biting her nails. She had thrown a party, but no guests were in sight.
‘How could there be not a single one?’
Around 9 p.m., a few people had stopped by to greet her. But before midnight, they had all left.
The party atmosphere hadn’t even begun to heat up, and yet everyone had bailed out.
“Do they think just showing their faces is enough? Do they have any idea how much this party cost?!”
“I told you not to get involved in a fight you couldn’t win,” her husband, the Viscount of Odridge, laughed heartily beside her.
She shot him a glare.
“Whose side are you on?”
“I’m just stating the facts. The Pierce Duchy wouldn’t care about a party thrown by a viscountcy like us, but it was a rash move on your part.”
“Then why didn’t you stop me?”
“Me? Oh no, I wouldn’t dare! The thought of hearing you grumble all year, ‘Oh, I should have put that Viscountess Lope in her place!’… gives me a headache.”
“…Who does that?”
“Once you set your mind to something, you have to see it through to the end, no matter how much it costs.”
“If I’d known it would be such a waste of money, I wouldn’t have done it…”
She had spent much more on this party than usual. She even hired a circus troupe to make it more unique than the duchy’s party.
Now, that circus troupe was merrily drinking with the now-idle band, thanks to the Viscount’s generous gesture of letting them eat and drink the leftover food.
The Viscountess crossed her arms and looked bitterly at the cold banquet table.
“All of that food… what a waste…”
“Hmm, still less than what Viscountess Lope owes you.”
The Viscount laughed heartily.
“…I’m sorry.”
“Money can always be earned back. We make money to spend it anyway.”
The viscount patted his wife’s drooping shoulders, trying to comfort her. Finally, she couldn’t hold back her tears any longer and buried her face in his shoulder.
“I’m just so humiliated… Hiic, how am I ever going to show my face again?”
“Don’t worry. No one else knows our party was a failure. As long as we keep our mouths shut, no one will find out. …Oh, I should remind those guys to keep quiet too! If we send them off well-fed, those chatty clowns will be satisfied.”
“Hiic, hiic, it’s so humiliating…”
“Even so, what can we do? Your husband is the head of a viscountcy, not a duchy or a marquisate. A plain-looking man with no talent for society, just a bear of a man.”
The viscount quoted the words she had often hurled at him during their early marital spats.
“…You still remember that?”
“I’ve always had a good memory.”
“More like you hold grudges for a long time!”
“Oh, you caught me!”
He made a playful face, scrunching up his features. His wife looked at him with exasperation.
“Are you done crying now?”
“I’m so stunned that my tears have dried up.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I guess I have a knack for handling things, don’t I?”
“…I’m still angry.”
“I hope it’s not because of me.”
He shrugged and helped his wife to her feet.
“Don’t just sit here by the entrance—go in and rest.”
“But I’m the hostess…”
“Who’s going to show up at this hour? Sitting here will only make you more upset.”
“You’re always…”
“Oh dear.”
As Viscountess Odridge sprang to her feet in frustration, the viscount raised his plump hands in a gesture of surrender.
“Hmph.”
The viscountess pouted and sat back down, her face downcast as she glanced at the dozing doorman.
“There might still be someone coming.”
“The chances of that are about as likely as me getting a new title tomorrow… No, don’t glare at me like that. I feel like you’re drilling a hole through my forehead.”
“Do you think I’m enjoying this? I know the party’s a failure too.”
It was a complete loss. To avoid being known as the ‘viscountess who threw a party only to shut the doors right away,’ she needed to finish the night properly.
“To maintain at least a little dignity, someone has to be here to see the party off.”
A failed party was still a party. A hostess couldn’t abandon her manners.
In short, the context of the rumors is what’s important. Whether it becomes a mere joke or escalates into the reputation of being a rude household.
