The male voice that came from the entrance startled Lillian, and she almost jumped up in surprise. She quickly turned around to see a man still standing at the doorway, not taking a step inside.
They - it was me who asked them to help me find something!" She instinctively defended her two maids, disregarding the scattered envelopes and papers on the bed. As she spoke, she frantically searched for a coat to cover her nightgown-clad body but realized that her earlier dive onto the bed had been too reckless; she had no idea where she had kicked off her shoes.
Fontaine Whitman stood at the door, holding a lamp and watching Lillian as she darted around the room like a startled wild cat. In the warm light of the house, her long curly hair, which was completely disheveled on her shoulders and waist, had a golden hue that would never be seen in the pure white hair passed down through generations of the White family. If he wasn't mistaken, when he opened the door just now, Lillian was reading a letter while playing with a strand of hair wrapped around her finger. And now that strand of hair was sticking out in a comical shape next to her pale lips.
Fortunately, there was a thick carpet in the room, so she didn't feel the coldness as she walked barefoot. He quickly realized that he shouldn't stare at her like that and looked away before taking one last glance around the room. Because Lillian was in a hurry, some of the envelopes and papers that had been neatly placed on the bed had fallen to the floor. He didn't need to see clearly to know they were all from Lancelot's family, indicated by their blue wax seal.
After two minutes, Lillian was still wandering aimlessly, and Fontaine felt like she had completely forgotten how to use the maid summoning bell.
"Master Fontaine!" Megan, who was carrying a basin of hot towels upstairs, was startled by the man standing at the door. A rare panic appeared on her face as she hurriedly ran to Lillian's room door and said, "Goodnight."
"Do not bother with greetings, go and find Miss Lillian's shoes and bring her a coat," Fontaine interrupted the maid with a simple command.
"I'm terribly sorry!" Megan said as she hurriedly entered the room, "So please allow me to close the door and do Miss's makeup, Master Fontaine."
"If he asks you where you went later, just say that me got angry and kicked all of you out, not allowing you to stay anywhere I might hear voices." Megan easily found the second shoe under the dressing table. While she was somewhat distracted while doing Lillian's hair, she heard Lillian quietly instruct her, "Later on, go find Kate and coordinate your testimonies with her."
"If there is only Miss in the room, Mr. Fontaine will wait outside the door for the sake of you reputation," Megan answered while quickly doing Lily's hair. "It is appropriate for servants to be punished if they make mistakes, so Miss doesn't need to worry. Mr. Fontaine is not a harsh master."
Lillian sighed, evidently both of her personal maids had gone to different places to help her find things for some reason - she noticed the tray in Kate's hand and the hot towel basket on Megan's table. Perhaps it was because after dinner, she casually mentioned wanting something sour and sweet, as well as feeling a bit of tightness and pain in her face. Instead of guarding the door together, they chose to go separate ways. It could be that one asked the other to stay at the door, but the other thought it wouldn't take much time and acted on their own accord. Judging from their order of return and work style, it is highly likely that Kate is responsible for this situation.
"Please bring in Fontaine now," Lillian examined herself in the mirror and noticed that the two maids were much more efficient than her. In just a short while, the messy bed and herself had been tidied up neatly. Megan even found time to weave a beautiful red velvet hairband into her hair. She glanced at Megan and insisted softly, "Find a way to have Kate testify with us. I would be troubled if you two couldn't stay by my side. This is my command."
She watched with satisfaction as the two maids opened the door and welcomed in Fontaine before retreating to a corner to whisper. Lillian looked towards the man who had entered. She was unsure if she needed to greet him, after all, Fontaine's position as the designated heir of the Marquisate was definitely higher than hers and Joseph's. Tentatively, she stood up and said, "Good evening, Master Fontaine."
The two Whitman brothers look quite similar, in fact, all three members of the Whitman father and son have silver-white hair and blood-red irises, which is a standard color combination that appeals to Lillian's 'hometown' aesthetic preference.
In a different scenario, such as communicating through a screen, Lillian would surely appreciate the appearance of the man in front of her. However, in this face-to-face interaction, she has no idea about his intentions. Thinking back to the little puppy that had been making noise in her room during the day, Lillian feels mentally exhausted. But it's all part of the game and the price one must pay to enjoy life in the present moment. With good psychological preparation for herself, Lillian smiles at her older brother who is much taller than her.
Come on, he is most likely to focus his hatred on the fake sister for over a decade after the real sister disappeared. I am prepared as a fish, it just depends on whether your knife is cold or the cutting board beneath me that has been lying in Walmart for ten years is cold.
"I have consulted with your therapist, and you need a few more days of rest. You should not go out for the time being." Fontaine gestured for her to sit down.
"Okay." Lillian nodded. After all, she didn't have as strong a desire to go out now as she did when she first arrived, and the maids say this kind of thing to her every day.
Fontaine continued, "I have discussed with father that the Marquis's mansion will maintain martial law until he returns from his summer tour. During this period, we need to minimize the entry and exit of outsiders as much as possible for your safety."
Originally, the Marquis has been away from home for the past few days. Lillian continued nodding while thinking that it seems this young Marquis already holds considerable authority in household matters, which is quite impressive considering he appears to be only two years older than the real Lillian and not yet twenty.
But what is the Summer Tour? Is it a territorial inspection or some kind of noble quarterly hunting expedition? She has no idea.
"Do you want anything else? I can have the merchants bring in all of the seasonal goods and have the servants arrange them in the foyer according to your preferred shops. You can pick whatever you like."
Lillian continued to nod out of habit, and as the man's voice passed through her ears and circled in her mind, she instinctively uttered, "What?"
"I mean, for the sake of your safety..." Fontaine said, preparing to explain it again with patience.
"I understand here," Lillian raised her hand to indicate that there was no need to explain further. She thought she had already become accustomed to the wealth of these nobles in recent days, but just because she couldn't go out and no one else could come in, Marquis Fontaine seemed capable of moving the entire shop into his mansion according to his tone. He even allowed her to choose freely from all the goods, which once again exceeded her imagination of the upper-class aristocratic society.
"I don't want anything," she looked around her room. The drawers of this large room were filled to the brim with various exquisite dresses and jewelry, indicating that in Fontaine's context, a 'entire shop' was not just any shop anyone could casually walk into on the street.
A moment of silence, two pairs of red pupils silently locked gazes. The people of Renoirca never tired of praising these lordly families' eyes that were passed down through generations like rubies. They even composed songs about them. But in just over ten days, Lillian had grown weary of the maids complimenting her eye color every day.