That’s How I Became a Villainess - Chapter 18

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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18

“Please allow me to call you by your name, Countess. And you might call me by mine.”
She was asking to be friends.
“That’s… I couldn’t possibly ask such a thing.”
Milea found herself increasingly bothered by the fact that Bridget seemed incapable of advocating for herself properly.
“Countess, naïveté is no virtue.”
Because Bridget made her say things she needn’t have said, things that kept gnawing at her.
“A person who knows how to secure what belongs to them causes no worry to those around them. Innocence invites exploitation.”
A sigh escaped her. No wonder Bridget had surrendered the Mansion to her husband’s mistress without a fight.
‘What on earth am I to do with this exasperating, good-hearted woman.’
If she weren’t her son’s benefactor, Milea wouldn’t spare her a second thought.
Milea understood that she had grown fatally soft toward people like Bridget.
“Speak plainly. I am someone with far more to give than you might suppose.”
There—she’d gone and confessed aloud what she’d always denied before others.
But Bridget said something entirely unexpected.
“I know. That’s precisely why I don’t want to squander the chance to call you friend. No reward could compare to that.”
She added it with a boldness, a candor that caught Milea off guard.
“I’m far more interested in the goose that lays the golden eggs than in the eggs themselves.”
“…!”
The woman she’d taken for foolishly naive now showed eyes that gleamed with sharp intellect.
Others approached Milea with the same hunger, but they dressed their avarice in polite pretense—none had ever spoken it so plainly.
Milea let out a deflated laugh, then caught herself and broke into genuine, hearty laughter.
The exasperation melted away from her chest.
“I was worrying for nothing.”
Bridget smiled quietly.
Milea nodded with satisfaction.
‘More clever than I thought.’
At the last party, Bridget had seemed emotional, fragile—but listening to her speak with such composure now, Milea saw no reason for concern.
‘Few people could keep their wits about them after enduring what she has.’
Milea understood Bridget now.
And so she decided to revise the judgment she’d made that evening.
All those qualifiers—emotional, foolishly naïve—she would set aside.
‘Doesn’t seem to fit her at all, now that I see her clearly.’
Having confirmed something important about Bridget, Milea saw her to the door and at once began preparing to go out.
She meant to find the person who needed Bridget’s particular talents and relay her story to them.
‘Perhaps Bridget is the one who could manage him, after all.’
Milea’s Carriage turned toward the Royal Palace.

* * *

By the time Bridget returned home, Isaac was receiving a visitor.
“You say the Count Kensington sent you?”
The man had introduced himself as Count Kensington’s secretary.
Isaac knew of Count Kensington.
‘I’ve heard his name often enough.’
Isaac had multiple business ventures, the most lucrative being the warehousing and rental business at the Port.
He’d inherited it from his father, and through it had become familiar with the names of the nobility who conducted large-scale trade.
‘Isn’t Count Kensington the man who’s amassed considerable wealth through weapons imports over the past several decades.’
For such a man to seek him out was unexpected.
Isaac felt a flutter of self-importance and asked the question.
“What brings you? This doesn’t seem to be a matter of business.”
Business matters were always discussed among subordinates and reported through official channels—no one simply showed up unannounced without preliminary word.
“Count Kensington was deeply impressed by Baron and Baroness Winston, whom he observed at the Marquis Cavendish’s recent gathering.”
“Impressed?”
Isaac’s brow furrowed; he thought the man was mocking him.
He held no fond memories of that party.
Everyone had mocked him—but what did their approval matter, truly?
“To be precise, sir, I mean to say the Countess herself. Ahem.”
The man lowered his voice and whispered something to Isaac.
Isaac’s expression grew peculiar as he absorbed whatever proposal had been offered.
“And what, pray tell, do I receive in return for granting this request? Money is not something I lack.”
The man smiled thinly.
“The Earl Kensington has extended an invitation to you for the Hunting Gathering.”
“…!”
“He wishes to introduce you to some of his other acquaintances there. All distinguished guests from the finest families, you understand.”
Isaac’s eyes widened.
He had grown anxious waiting for an invitation to social gatherings on Bridget’s behalf, and yet here he was—to be invited directly by the nobility themselves! It was unprecedented.
Nothing like this had ever happened before.
‘At last.’
His heart quickened. Yet something troubled him still.
“Even so, isn’t such a proposal rather… unusual?”
“You’ve never received one, it seems. I assure you, it happens quite often.”
“There are other instances of this?”
“People simply don’t speak of it openly, but yes—it’s a common enough way for those without connections to advance themselves.”
“But who else—”
“Ah, I’m afraid I cannot divulge such details. But if you’re truly troubled by this, I shall convey your hesitation to the Earl.”
The man rose to leave with a gesture of resignation, but Isaac caught his sleeve urgently.
“No, wait! I simply need a moment to think!”
“The Earl is not a patient man. I shall take my leave now.”
As the man shrugged him off, Isaac—eyes blazing with hunger—cried out:
“I’ll do it! I’ll do whatever the Earl wishes!”
“Is that so?”
The man smiled and settled back into his seat.
“Then allow me to explain what needs to be done.”
Isaac wiped sweat from his brow.
‘Bridget must earn her keep. She has that obligation.’

* * *

The following evening, Bridget looked up in bewilderment as servants suddenly entered her chamber.
“What is this about?”
“The master has instructed us to attend to your bath this evening, madam….”
Anna, who had been with Bridget in the room, wore a confused expression.
“But that’s my duty, isn’t it? Why would the master suddenly take an interest in such matters?”
The servants spoke eagerly.
“We’re not entirely sure, but he provided these herbs and perfumed oils for you. And also this….”
Bridget stared at the Slip the servant handed her and drew a sharp breath.
The undergarment, fashioned from delicate lace, left almost nothing to imagination.
‘Good heavens.’
Unaware of Bridget’s true reaction, the servants buzzed with excitement.
They believed that Isaac, who had been utterly besotted with the disagreeable Penelope and had left Bridget abandoned, now desired a Conjugal Visit with her—and this was his signal.
They had grown resentful of Penelope’s recent airs of being the Mistress of the Household.
The servants were delighted at the thought that if Isaac showed Bridget his affection, she might secure her position as the true mistress.
So, failing to notice the alarm on Bridget’s face, they washed her thoroughly, sprayed her with fragrance, and dressed her in the Slip.
They even poured her a cup of tea, insisting it would calm her nerves.
As they fussed over her, Bridget formed a plan.
‘Somehow I’ll provoke him—make him change his mind.’
The eager servants departed. But Isaac did not arrive promptly as expected.
Bridget sat brooding over how best to anger him when she dozed off—only to wake at the sound of footsteps.
‘Is it Isaac?’
But it was not Isaac who entered her chamber.
“…Who are you!”
Two men of unknown identity entered the bedroom, gagged her mouth with cloth, and threw a hood over her head.
Bridget struggled and cried out, but her body felt lifeless.
Even in this nightmarish situation, an odd drowsiness overwhelmed her—she could barely think.
‘Could it be… that tea the servant gave me….’
There was no doubt something had burned inside it.
Bridget was dragged away lifelessly and loaded into the Carriage.
To her ears came the voice of Isaac.
“Don’t resist so much, Bridget. Ease your mind. There’s nothing dangerous about this.”
“Mmph! Nngh!”
His voice was unusually tender.
“Just spend one pleasant night and come back. That’s all.”
The Carriage departed.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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