That’s How I Became a Villainess - Chapter 37
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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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37
In the end, Bridget reached the place she had been dreading.
The servants had gathered there.
Penelope was among them, and when she spotted Bridget, her expression turned awkward.
Cedric stepped forward from the cluster of servants and began explaining with deference.
“Madam, I must apologize, but it appears someone has stolen your belongings and buried them in the Garden. It seems… they’ve created a grave.”
At the word grave falling from Cedric’s lips, the servants let out gasps.
“Who would do such a thing?”
“A wicked deed. They deserve divine punishment.”
“This goes beyond theft—it’s practically murder. They must have been wishing for madam’s death!”
Penelope swallowed hard as she listened to the servants’ sharp accusations ripple through the air.
She hadn’t expected it to come to this.
She’d buried it somewhere no one should have found!
Penelope resented the gardener bitterly.
Why had the gardener of all people torn up that spot and created this catastrophe?
‘He never even maintained that part of the grounds before.’
Then, of all things, her eyes locked directly with Bridget’s.
Penelope, startled out of her wits, let out a sharp cry before she could stop herself.
“Why are you looking at me? What?”
With that, all eyes fixed upon Penelope.
When the servants saw Penelope’s body shudder visibly, their gazes turned cold.
Though no one spoke it aloud, they all thought the same thing.
Guilty conscience, isn’t it?
Penelope felt the air sucked from her lungs, her head spinning.
“Why are you all looking at me like that? It wasn’t me! I didn’t do it!”
“No one said you did.”
Bridget replied calmly.
Yet that measured response only served to underscore Penelope’s frantic anxiety more starkly.
Penelope felt it too.
She knew she should stop talking, but panic only wound her tighter, and reckless words kept tumbling from her mouth. She couldn’t stop them.
“That’s a lie. You were staring at me! You suspected me! And how would you even know if this was meant as something bad? It could have been meant as something good!”
Laughter erupted among the servants.
“Something good, she says.”
“Preposterous.”
Penelope’s eyes flew wide as she tried to identify who had laughed.
“Who was that? Who just spoke? Was it you? Was it you?”
The servants she pointed to shook their heads with perfect composure.
Bridget fixed Penelope with a sharp rebuke.
“Stop making a scene, Penelope.”
“H-how am I making a scene!”
“What you’re doing right now—that’s a scene.”
“That’s unfair!”
She could see Isaac beside her, visibly tense.
He surely knew that Penelope was the one behind all this.
Of everyone present, Isaac was far more likely to be irritated than Bridget.
‘I don’t think I need to step in and humiliate Penelope myself.’
Her own words had already tripped her up so thoroughly that the servants had likely seen through to the truth of what she’d done.
‘Let this moment teach you both the true nature of your love.’
Bridget deliberately drew Isaac into the fray.
“Isaac, do you think I’m being unreasonable?”
“Isaac!”
Penelope’s face crumpled as though he were her only lifeline, and she clung to him desperately.
“I’m so wronged!”
But Isaac brushed her hand away.
His irritation was unmistakable.
……
Penelope stared up at Isaac in blank shock.
“Isaac…?”
“Stop it. Just stop, Penelope.”
“But….”
“Bridget’s right. You’re the only one making a scene here. No one’s said a word against you—so why are you acting like the world’s caving in?”
Penelope froze as though doused in ice water.
She couldn’t believe it.
What was this?
The cold edge in Isaac’s gaze hit her like a blow.
He’d always been so tender with her.
Just weeks ago, he’d clung to her, saying he didn’t know what he’d do without her.
And now he looked at her like that, in front of everyone.
Taking Bridget’s side.
Shame burned across her face; every muscle in her body went rigid.
A chill ran down her spine.
“Isaac….”
You’re supposed to be on my side.
We’re accomplices.
The way I covered for you, the way I stood by you—you owe me the same loyalty.
That’s only fair.
Betrayal struck her like lightning through the skull. She felt hollowed out.
Isaac turned swiftly to the servants nearby and barked an order.
“Take Penelope to her room. She’s only in the way.”
“Isaac…!”
Penelope, her face drained white, lunged after him.
But the servants dragged her away as though she were a criminal.
Bridget watched her go with perfect composure.
She drank in the sight of Penelope’s crumbling expression, the despair pooling in her eyes.
Once she’d been so thrilled by a friend’s death that she’d erected a monument to it—back then she’d thought she held a happy ending in her palm.
‘The theme of this story is Virtue Rewarded and Vice Punished.’
Bridget smiled down at Penelope as she was hauled away—a smile that spoke volumes.
Penelope’s face contorted.
“No…!!”
Isaac cut off even that final wail without mercy.
“Gag her and get her out of here! For heaven’s sake, a pregnant woman screaming like that—honestly.”
He turned to Bridget with a placating tone.
“Bridget, I’ll handle this. I understand you’re upset after what happened, but don’t let it weigh on you. You must be exhausted from your outing—why don’t you rest?”
He gestured to the employees.
“It was one of them, no doubt. I’ll find the culprit and make an example of them—I’ll throw them out so they never dare pull a stunt like this again….”
The employees’ faces darkened.
Anyone with eyes could see that Penelope was guilty, yet he was going to beat one of them as punishment?
“…….”
Bridget felt the resentment of the common people beginning to bubble and seethe.
She had no intention of squandering the opportunity Isaac had created.
“Never mind. There’s no need to poke around and harass innocent people. A monument like that doesn’t change anything about me. Honestly, seeing it now, it’s just a childish prank like you said—nothing serious. It’s not as though valuable property was stolen.”
Building a tomb for the living was never a trivial matter.
Yet Bridget was graciously letting the offense pass.
She knew perfectly well it was Penelope’s doing, knew that Isaac meant to pin the blame on the employees—and she was protecting them from it.
Truly, our noble mistress.
The eyes of the employees turned toward Bridget bright with admiration.
Isaac, oblivious to the shift in atmosphere, let out a relieved sigh.
“Right? That’s what I’m saying. Smart thinking. Everyone, dismissed! Get going!”
Afraid that Bridget might change her mind, he quickly scattered the employees.
But as Isaac hurried after Bridget inside, the eyes of the lingering employees were sharp with anger.
“Why’d he bring such a vicious woman into this house!”
“Trying to pin it on us? Bah!”
Cedric sighed heavily.
“For the mistress’s sake, let’s all calm down.”
The employees’ fury was not easily extinguished that day.
* * *
With Penelope gone, Bridget spun around to face Isaac in the hallway.
“You did this, didn’t you?”
“What? That makes no sense.”
She knew he hadn’t, but pressed him anyway.
She’d crushed Penelope’s pride and dealt her betrayal. Isaac deserved to pay his own price.
She wanted him to suffer for it.
“There’s no one else who would think I was dead. You sold me to the Earl of Kensington, so you’d have assumed I died there. That’s why you built the tomb, isn’t it?”
“Why would I do such a thing?”
“How should I know?”
“Come on, Bridget. Why would I leave myself open to something like this?”
“Prove it.”
Isaac chuckled, a soft, dismissive sound.
“How can I produce evidence for something I never did?”
He seemed to think this was a game.
She needed to make him understand it wasn’t.
“The Countess of Spencer considers me her benefactor.”
“Her benefactor? For what?”
“I saved her son’s life when he was dying from insomnia.”
“What? You did something so noble?”
Bridget crushed his fleeting joy in an instant.
“If I tell her about my visit to the Earl of Kensington’s residence and what happened today, and ask for her help, I wonder whether you’ll be so pleased then.”
Isaac’s eyes went wide, the pupils trembling.
“Bridget… why would you do that? Are you still angry?”
He spoke carefully, sweat beading on his brow.
“While you were out, I sent a letter to the Aristocratic Assembly saying there had been a misunderstanding, that I would call off the divorce. It won’t happen again. I swear it.”
Bridget turned away and climbed the stairs.
Isaac followed at her heels.
“What will it take to make you forgive me? What can I do for you? Just tell me. Anything.”
“Anything?”
“Anything at all!”
Bridget paused as if considering, her fingers tracing her chin.
Isaac nodded magnanimously, as if inviting her to ask for whatever she pleased.
Jewels? A gown? She’d never been interested in such things. Perhaps she’d ask for books or paintings since she enjoyed affecting refinement? It hardly mattered—whatever she requested would be trivial compared to what he imagined his wealth could buy.
But what Bridget said was entirely unexpected.
“I’d like you to invest in my business.”
Isaac froze.
“In what?”
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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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