My elder sister married the man she longed for, Lord Charles. But on the night of the wedding, it was I who was sent into the bridal chamber. My sister wasn’t worried that I might reveal the truth because I was mute. What she didn’t know was that I was only pretending. “Do as I say, or your mother’s life won’t be spared.” Marianne tore off my outer robe and pushed me behind the screen. Today was her grand day, joining Lord Charles’s manor. I entered the manor with her as her dowry maid. Marianne, still in her bridal crown and gown, looked fierce, but it did not diminish her striking beauty. She drew out a razor-sharp dagger, its blade gleaming ominously as she pressed it against my cheek. I feigned terror, my mouth opening in a silent scream, my eyes wide with false fear. Marianne’s smile twisted into something dark and wicked, a glint of malevolence dancing in her eyes. “Tonight is your wedding night. Serve Lord Charles well. If you please me, your future will be filled with riches.” Marianne had long admired Lord Charles but sent me to his bed because she was no longer chaste. She had an affair with a guard in our manor. When the secret was exposed, her mother had the guard poisoned to cover up the scandal. But the damage was done; Marianne was no longer a virgin. To avoid Lord Charles’s rejection, she chose me as her dowry maid. I was her half-sister, and our figures were similar enough that she believed she could deceive him. Marianne’s threats were not just empty words. “If you slip up, I’ll break your legs and sell you off! And don’t think your mad mother will survive, either!” I bit my lip, nodded with a frightened expression, and Marianne withdrew the dagger, leaving me to wait behind the screen. Soon after, the door to the chamber was flung open with a violent crash. Lord Charles, tall and imposing in his crimson wedding attire, stormed in. I stayed hidden, not daring to make a sound. Marianne obediently sat on the bed, but Lord Charles only glanced at her briefly before turning away to pour himself a cup of tea. Marianne quickly took the cup, secretly adding a pinch of powder she had hidden in her nails. It was an aphrodisiac she had acquired. Lord Charles drank the tea, and soon his face flushed, and his breathing became labored. He glared at Marianne with anger. “What did you give me?” Marianne feigned innocence. “Oh, this… it’s just something an old nanny from home gave me. She said it would enhance the wedding night… I didn’t know what it was…” Lord Charles angrily smashed the cup, causing Marianne to jump in fright. “You dare give me such a vile substance? I’m strong enough without needing such poison! Are you afraid I won’t tire you out?” After his outburst, his condition worsened. His eyes became bloodshot, and his breathing turned more ragged. Marianne was overjoyed, pretending to apologize as she guided him to the bed and blew out the candles, plunging the room into darkness. All that could be heard was Lord Charles’s heavy breathing. Marianne yanked me from behind the screen, her grip merciless as she hurled me onto the bed with a force that knocked the air from my lungs. Lord Charles moved swiftly, wrapping his strong arms around my waist with a desperate, almost frantic urgency. I found myself sprawled atop him, his powerful, masculine scent enveloping me in an intoxicating haze. Without a word, he seized the back of my head, pulling me close as his hot lips crashed against mine. The intensity of his kiss was both consuming and overwhelming. I gasped in shock as the fabric of my clothes was torn apart, the sound of ripping fabric mingling with the pounding of my heart.
As dawn’s first light seeped through the curtains, I trembled uncontrollably as I struggled to climb out of bed. Lord Charles lay beside me, still fast asleep, his breaths deep and steady. My eyes fell to my legs, where dried blood marred my skin—a dark, cruel stain that seemed to slice into my heart with every glance. The memories of the previous night haunted me. Marianne’s scheme had left Lord Charles furious, and he vented all his anger on me, mistaking me for Marianne. He showed no mercy, and despite gritting my teeth, I couldn’t suppress my cries of pain. Marianne was the one who caused all this, yet I had to bear it all. I clenched my fists. These wounds were nothing compared to my mother’s life. I blinked hard, forcing back my tears. Gathering my scattered clothes, I struggled to dress myself. I shakily left the room. In the hall, Marianne stirred from her nap on a chaise lounge. Her eyes narrowed at me with a venomous glare, and she spat out a single word: “Get out!” Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to walk out the door. Returning to the servants’ quarters, I heated water to wash my body. As I undressed, I noticed a jade bracelet with gold inlay on my left arm. I vaguely remembered Lord Charles placing it on me after taking my virginity, saying something about it being a token. If Marianne saw this, it would spell trouble. I tried to remove it, but it was stuck. Frustrated, I decided to leave it on and hide it under my clothes until I could quietly return it to Marianne later. Marianne got what she wanted. Lord Charles didn’t realize that it was someone else who had shared the bridal bed with him. I thought she would live happily with him from then on. But the day after the wedding, Lord Charles was sent to the Southern Territories to quell a rebellion. Marianne and the Dowager Duchess led the family to see him off. Standing at the back of the crowd, I watched indifferently as Lord Charles, clad in armor, was surrounded by well-wishers. The Dowager Duchess was giving him some final advice, and Marianne whispered a few words of concern. Lord Charles’s lieutenant brought his horse, and a tall, imposing woman accompanied him. The woman greeted the Dowager Duchess cheerfully. “Aunt!” The Dowager Duchess nodded. I had heard of this woman before. Her name was Sarah Lane, Lord Charles’s sworn sister and the orphaned daughter of a comrade of the old Duke. She was accompanying Lord Charles on this campaign. I noticed Marianne’s face change instantly when she saw Sarah. Marianne was jealous by nature, and now with Lord Charles away at war, she must have been filled with anxiety over this beautiful woman by his side. Lord Charles was away for over a month when Marianne, under the pretext of visiting her mother, returned to the Moore family estate. When I got home, I found out that my mother had been sent to a remote estate in the countryside. There, she suffered from hunger and cold. I was distraught but had no way to help. One day, while I was making up Marianne’s bed, I overheard her and Lady Lydia talking outside. They were speaking in hushed tones, but I have good hearing. Marianne said, “Lord Charles will be in the Southern Territories for at least a year. If Sarah Lane takes this chance to seduce him, where will I stand when they return?” Lady Lydia replied, “You can’t just sit idly by. You need to secure your position before Lord Charles comes back!” Marianne, panicked, asked, “What can I do? With Lord Charles away, even the Dowager Duchess treats me coldly. She is not Lord Charles’s real mother. Her own son just came of age, and she filled his house with concubines. I bet that old woman is hoping for Lord Charles to die in battle so that her son can inherit the title!” “Don’t talk nonsense! Lord Charles will come back safe and sound!” Lady Lydia then suggested, “But there are things we must be cautious of. Since you’ve consummated the marriage, why not play the trick of ‘flowers blooming on the tree’…”
Marianne asked, “Flowers blooming on the tree? What do you mean?” Lady Lydia whispered a few words, her lips moving with calculated precision. I could make out her message: “You can pretend to be pregnant. If Lord Charles returns early, you can say you had a miscarriage. If he takes longer to come back, we’ll bribe a midwife to find a chubby boy and claim him as your own. And if… Lord Charles never returns, having a son by your side will protect you from that old woman.” Marianne’s eyes lit up, and she nodded enthusiastically. “Mother, you always have the best ideas!” I held my breath and slowly backed away from the door. My hand instinctively drifted to my lower abdomen.My period had been late, and I had already suspected what it meant. Lord Charles’s bloodline had taken root within me. I knew that if this child was born, it would not belong to me. I couldn’t just sit and wait for my fate to be sealed. I knew what Marianne feared most. In that instant, I had a plan. Back at Lord Charles’s manor, I deliberately changed into a brightly colored dress and stood in the garden, tending to flowers. Voices and footsteps approached from the corridor behind me, but I pretended not to hear. A clear male voice called out, “Sister-in-law?” Startled, I turned to see Henry, Lord Charles’s younger brother, accompanied by two beautiful maidservants. When Henry saw my face, his eyes widened with surprise. I knew this was the path he always took to return to his quarters. I made sure to act frightened, bowing to him gracefully. Henry hesitated, asking, “You’re not my sister-in-law? Why do you look so much like her from behind?” One of the maids answered, “This is the Lady Marianne’s dowry maid, Clara.” Henry pondered for a moment, “Clara?” The other maid added, “Clara is mute, young master. Please don’t take offense.” Henry’s expression softened with pity. He gently said, “Clara, the wind is strong here. If you want to pick flowers, you can come to my garden.” I shook my head and quickly bowed, then turned and ran away. — That night, I brought hot water into the room to help Marianne wash her face and hands. She glared at me and suddenly knocked the copper basin out of my hands. Hot water splashed all over me, and I yelped in pain, immediately kneeling before her. Marianne grabbed my chin with her sharp nails, forcing me to look up at her. She smiled coldly, devoid of any warmth. “Clara, you’re quite cunning. Young Master Henry only looked at you once today and went to beg his mother to have you sent to his quarters.” I made desperate hand gestures, trying to show her that I had done nothing wrong. Marianne slapped me hard, sending me sprawling to the floor. She was furious, cursing like a shrew, “You little wench! Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to! You think you can latch onto young Master Henry and rise above me? As long as I’m here, you’ll never outshine me!” Her reaction was exactly as I had predicted. I noticed the pen and ink on the desk. I quickly crawled over, grabbed the pen, and wrote a line on the paper: “I beg you, Sister, please send me away so I can reunite with my mother.” Marianne eyed me suspiciously. “You really want to leave?” I nodded fervently, then wrote five more words: “Please, Sister, grant my wish.” I knew Marianne had always been wary of me, and now that I was of no more use to her, she wouldn’t keep me around to steal her spotlight. After a moment’s thought, she agreed on the spot. “Fine, since you’re so filial, I’ll grant your wish.” I pretended not to notice the malice in her eyes and knelt to thank her. — The next day, I packed a few belongings and boarded the carriage Marianne had arranged for me. The driver was a thin, wiry man who had eyed me lewdly before I got in. After half a day’s journey, he pulled the carriage into a forest, saying the horse needed a rest. I sat under a tree, clutching my bundle. The man approached me with a bowl of water, pretending to be kind. “Miss, you must be tired. Have some water.” I waved him off and stood to walk away. He followed, grabbing my arm. I pushed him away, spilling the water. His demeanor changed instantly, and he growled, “You’ll regret refusing my kindness!”
He threw the bowl aside and lunged at me. I dodged. The man rubbed his chin with a lecherous grin and said, “Little beauty, Lady Marianne ordered me to kill you. It would be a shame for a pretty face like yours to just die like that. Why not have a little fun with me before you go?” He pursued me like a cat playing with a mouse. “Be a good girl, and maybe I’ll be gentle. But if you make me angry, you’ll suffer even more!” I quickly reached into my clothes and pulled out a packet of powder. When he got close enough, I threw the powder into his face. It was red pepper powder, and it blinded him instantly. “Aaahhh—! Cough, cough…” He clutched his face, coughing violently, rolling on the ground in pain. I may have pretended to be stupid, but I wasn’t. I knew Marianne had no intention of letting me go. She wanted me dead. Thankfully, I was prepared. While he was still writhing in pain, I rushed to the carriage, climbed up, and drove the horse out of the forest. When I reached the estate where my mother was, it was still midday. I didn’t wait for Marianne to get word; I found my mother and took her away immediately. The servants were confused and tried to stop us, but my mother had a fit, scratching and biting them. The overseer cursed us, “Get lost! If you want to go, then go!” I dragged my mother onto the carriage and headed north. Only when we were on the rough mountain roads did I finally relax. We had escaped Marianne’s control! I had saved my mother! Looking back at her in the carriage, I cried tears of joy. I sobbed, “Mother, we’re free from the Moore family. I don’t have to pretend to be mute anymore, and you don’t have to pretend to be insane!” My mother, with her disheveled hair, hugged me tightly, and we wept together. My mother was a healer. She was taken as a concubine by my father after he spotted her during one of her medical visits. My father’s first wife, Lady Lydia, had a face like a saint but a heart like a viper. She treated my mother kindly on the surface but tormented her in secret. She even had my mother’s first two sons killed. I survived only because I was a girl. At first, my father protected my mother, but after his affections waned, he abandoned her. Lady Lydia continued to torment her, so my mother feigned madness to protect herself. When I was ten, I was in the courtyard, learning to sing from the maids. My father and Marianne passed by, and he praised my voice, saying it was as sweet as a nightingale’s song. That night, Lady Lydia had her servants hold me down and forced me to drink a potion that took away my voice. Marianne watched, laughing, saying that the nightingale had had its beak cut off. After they left, my mother secretly found an antidote, saving my voice, though it was never as sweet as before. My mother warned me to hide my talents if I wanted to survive. From then on, I pretended to be mute, never speaking a word to anyone but her. Now, my mother and I had finally escaped the den of vipers. I wiped away her tears and vowed, “Mother, we can never go back to the Moore family!” My mother nodded tearfully. “We should go to your aunt. Five years ago, she sent word that she had married and was living in a place called ‘Clearbrook Town.’” After much inquiry, we finally arrived at Clearbrook Town two weeks later. We found my aunt’s home, only to be told she had become a nun.
It turned out that my aunt’s husband had died of a plague three years ago. She had no children and was not welcomed by her in-laws. With no one to rely on, she had cut her hair and become a nun. We found her at St. Margaret’s Abbey. My aunt had taken the name Sister Clarice, and because of her knowledge and manners, she was appointed as the abbey’s treasurer. My aunt and my mother hadn’t seen each other in over ten years, and they couldn’t stop crying when they reunited. After they had poured their hearts out, my mother explained why we had come. When my aunt learned that I was pregnant, she begged the abbess to let us stay in a small cottage near the abbey. The cottage was old but clean and tidy. My aunt told us, “The abbess said that over forty years ago, a young noblewoman who had fallen on hard times lived here. She met a gentleman in the mountains, and they fell in love at first sight. The lady left with him but continued to send donations to the abbey every few years.” I worriedly asked, “If the lady finds out we’re staying in her cottage, will she be angry?” My aunt smiled. “Don’t worry. That lady is over sixty now, and she’s a kind-hearted woman who’s devoted to the church. She’d be happy to know that her old home is sheltering those in need.” With my aunt’s reassurance, my mother and I settled in. We planted vegetables and herbs in the garden, occasionally selling some herbs in the nearby village for a bit of money. Life was hard, but we were content and free— — Four years later Autumn had just begun, with the sun’s warmth giving way to a cool breeze. My mother had gone to the village, and I was in the garden with my daughter, Rose, drying herbs. Rose pointed to the herbs in the basket, naming them one by one. “Forsythia, Salvia, Angelica, Astragalus…” I patted her head, praising her. “Rose, you’re so clever. You remembered all of them.” My son, James, was playing nearby, chasing a rabbit with a stick. I warned him while tending to the herbs, “James, don’t run around too much. Be careful not to trample on Grandma’s perilla.” James ignored my warning and carried the rabbit outside the gate, still playing with it. I glanced up to see he hadn’t gone far, so I didn’t call him back. James’s laughter echoed as I divided my attention between the children and the herbs. Suddenly, I heard the sound of approaching footsteps and the clinking of jewelry. I put down the herbs and went to the gate to see what was happening. A group of finely dressed travelers was approaching, led by my aunt, Sister Clarice, and the abbess, Sister Helena. They were accompanying an elderly woman with silver hair and a rosy complexion. The old lady looked kind and noble. Following behind her was a large group of people, some of whom I recognized, and it nearly made me lose my balance. It was the Dowager Duchess, Marianne, and Lord Charles! The elderly woman at the front was none other than Duchess Victoria, Lord Charles’s grandmother! What were they doing here? Marianne and Lord Charles were the last people I wanted to see! I was paralyzed with fear when Duchess Victoria’s eyes lit up as she spotted James. “Oh, what a charming little boy!” she exclaimed. James set the rabbit down and folded his hands, greeting Sister Clarice and Sister Helena in a sweet voice, “Bless you.” The Duchess was delighted. She crouched down to play with James, exclaiming, “What a bright young boy! Who taught you this…” She trailed off, studying James’s face in surprise. “Oh my… this child… he looks just like Charles did when he was little!”
After the Duchess finished speaking, her lady-in-waiting, the Dowager Duchess, Marianne, and Lord Charles all gathered around. I held my breath, feeling a chill run down my spine. Everyone started talking at once. The lady-in-waiting said, “Those eyes and that face shape—he really looks just like Lord Charles when he was a child.” The Dowager Duchess agreed, “Her Grace has a sharp eye. He does look remarkably similar…” Marianne forced a laugh. “What a coincidence…” The Duchess, delighted, took James’s hand. “What a sweet child. Where are your parents?” Snapping out of my fear, I realized I couldn’t hide any longer. I forced myself to calm down. Lord Charles and the Dowager Duchess were such high-ranking nobles that they wouldn’t remember someone as insignificant as me. As for Marianne, as long as I denied everything, what could she do in front of all these people? I stepped forward and called out, “James, have you had enough fun? Come back inside and rest.” I watched everyone’s reactions closely. Lord Charles remained calm, but the Duchess and Dowager Duchess looked confused. Marianne, on the other hand, was so shocked that she couldn’t close her mouth. Hearing me speak must have stunned her. James ran into my arms, calling me “Mother.” My aunt then explained to the Duchess, “Your Grace, this is Miss Marianne, who has been staying in your cottage.” It turned out that the noblewoman who had lived here forty years ago was the Duchess herself. The man she had met in the mountains was the late Emperor! I curtsied deeply to the Duchess. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Grace.” The Duchess smiled warmly. “Master Hyman mentioned that someone had been staying in my old cottage. I never expected it to be such a well-mannered young lady.” I offered a few polite words. “Your Grace’s compassion knows no bounds, blessing all who cross your path. It has been a great fortune for my family to have your protection.” The Duchess beamed and suggested going inside to take a look. A large crowd of people filled the already cramped courtyard. The ladies went inside while Lord Charles and a group of servants and guards stayed outside. Seeing Rose inside the house, the Duchess was even more pleased. She praised, “You’re very fortunate, Miss Marianne, to have such adorable children.” The Duchess immediately had her lady-in-waiting bring out gold coins as gifts for the children. I tried to refuse several times, but my aunt eventually persuaded me to accept. I then had the children bow and thank the Duchess. Marianne, standing nearby, made a snide remark, “Miss Marianne, your surname is Wyth? What a coincidence—there was a runaway servant in my family who also had that surname.” Wyth was my mother’s surname. I knew Marianne was suspicious, so I calmly replied, “Yes, quite the coincidence.” Marianne was about to say more, but the Dowager Duchess shot her a warning glare, and she reluctantly stepped back. The Duchess seemed to take a liking to me and took my hand, asking with concern, “Miss Marianne, why are you living in seclusion here with your children? Where is your husband?” I lowered my gaze and replied with a mix of truth and lies, “My husband joined the army years ago, and we’ve had no news from him since. My children and I had nowhere to go, but thanks to your generosity and Master Hyman’s kindness, we’ve been able to stay here.” As I spoke, Marianne’s expression darkened further. The Duchess, moved by my story, said, “Poor child, you’ve suffered so much. It must be fate that brought you and your children to my old home. Is there anything I can do to help you?” Overwhelmed by her kindness, I responded, “Thank you, Your Grace. Your compassion is truly boundless. Thanks to Master Hyman and the others, we’ve been well taken care of and have no troubles.” The Duchess continued to ask about our well-being, and Marianne couldn’t help but interject, “Your Grace, it’s getting late. Perhaps we should go and have our meal?” As soon as she spoke, the Dowager Duchess scolded her, “The Duchess will decide what we do. You should know your place. As a younger member, how dare you interrupt? Do you not understand the meaning of decorum?”
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