In the Doghouse - Chapter 110
Family? She wasn’t sure. On the day of her wedding, her mother didn’t shed a single tear, nor did she offer even a word of advice to live well. Patricia had been too preoccupied with the benefits she would gain from her daughter’s rise in status to care about how Courtney might have felt, going off to her new life with nothing but herself.
It had always been that way. Even when others whispered about her daughter reaching marriageable age, Patricia had shown nothing but indifference. Even now, it wasn’t that she had missed her daughter—it seemed more like she was upset that Courtney had greeted another noblewoman, namely Duchess Wrighton, before her.
What good would it do to express her hurt feelings now? Courtney just wanted to end the conversation quickly.
“I greeted her because it was necessary. Say what you need to say.”
Patricia clicked her tongue, displeased with her daughter’s disinterested attitude. Still, she couldn’t openly express her irritation. After all, her daughter was now the Crown Princess, and there was nothing to gain by getting on her bad side.
Putting on her sweetest voice, Patricia continued,
“You’ve been doing well, I see. Your complexion looks so much better.”
Despite her mother’s attempt at kindness, Courtney’s expression remained flat.
Suddenly acting like a loving mother and daughter? Had her mother completely forgotten their last meeting, where they had screamed at each other over unpaid clothing bills?
Courtney barely responded, hardly paying attention.
“Does it?”
She scanned the room, looking for Richard, planning to use him as an excuse to escape the conversation. But despite his large frame, she couldn’t spot him anywhere.
Useless mutt, she thought.
“Courtney, dear!”
When she still wasn’t focusing on the conversation, Patricia grabbed her arm tightly. Startled, Courtney almost pushed her off forcefully. She glanced over her mother’s shoulder and saw Madam Berricker watching with a disapproving look. Courtney gave her a slight shake of the head, signaling that she was fine.
Knowing full well what her mother’s purpose was, Courtney wondered why she was dragging out the conversation with unnecessary small talk. Straightening her posture, she spoke in a lukewarm tone, neither hot nor cold.
“Mother, just say what you need to say. I’m busy.”
Flustered by Courtney’s cold demeanor, Patricia cleared her throat awkwardly. It irked her to see her daughter acting so haughty, as if she were now above her.
For Courtney, it felt strange to see her mother walking on eggshells so cautiously around her. Regardless of how her mother felt, Courtney herself hadn’t really changed much. Even when they lived together, she had never been particularly close with her family, and she was always busy snapping at them whenever they caused problems.
Patricia glanced nervously at the attendants standing at a distance, clearly uncomfortable with being watched. After some hesitation, she finally got to the point.
“Well, then… about our household expenses. Could you increase them a little? Things are getting quite tight.”
Of course. Money. What else?
But household expenses? Since when had she ever cared about that? Patricia’s excuse was weak, especially considering that Courtney still managed a portion of the household through the butler. Courtney feigned ignorance and asked,
“Are the household expenses insufficient? Wigg didn’t mention anything.”
Naturally, Courtney didn’t hand a single penny directly to her family. Everything—from managing income and assets to paying the staff—was handled by Wigg.
In reality, the members of the Devon family were little more than dependents who had to go to the butler for their allowances.
Patricia was, of course, displeased with that arrangement. How could she not resent her daughter for living in luxury in the palace while being so tight-fisted with her family? But there was no point in complaining in the middle of this grand imperial banquet. She suppressed her frustration and continued in a conciliatory tone.
“Well, you know how rigid he is. Every time we try to do something, he says there isn’t enough budget. But how can we live on just the bare minimum?”
It had only been one season ago when even that bare minimum had been something to worry about. And yet here was Patricia, wearing an extravagant new gown. She had pestered the butler endlessly about needing a dress for the banquet until Courtney had reluctantly allowed it.
Courtney was tired of this, but she decided to see how far her mother would go, so she asked,
“What exactly are you trying to do?”
“The house is so old. I wanted to fix it up here and there.”
“Didn’t we already repair everything last time?”
“How can we invite guests with the house in that condition?”
Patricia’s idea of house repairs wasn’t just fixing what was old or broken. It was about redoing perfectly fine floors and windows, making everything look lavish enough to host social gatherings and impress others. To Courtney, it was nothing but wasteful extravagance.
And social gatherings? What would they talk about? It certainly wouldn’t be intellectual discussions about art or foreign cultures. Her mother was not about to quietly fade into the background as Courtney had hoped.
The longer Courtney talked to her mother, the more she felt a headache coming on. She was exhausted.
As she glanced around listlessly, she spotted a glimmer of Richard’s head in the distance.
He was surrounded by people—specifically, young women.
…Hadn’t he gone off to greet important nobles? What on earth were they talking about?
He was wearing a smile, and though slightly awkward, it was one she thought had always been reserved for her alone.
