The Countess's Body Has Disappeared - Chapter 70

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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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Chapter 70
By the time Cecilia began living in the Cottage with Betty, Theodore had long since left the Manor. And so, though she had never once laid eyes on him, the mere fact that he could leave Betty lonely was enough to make Cecilia despise him with an ache that cut straight through her.
“I don’t wish to burden anyone even after death, taking up what little ground there is. You’ll do as I ask, won’t you, dear?”
As Betty stroked her hand in supplication, Cecilia shook her head vigorously. Yet she knew in her heart that she would ultimately yield to Betty’s wishes.
“There now. Today, read this to me, would you?”
Betty clapped her hands once to brighten the mood, then drew a book from the nightstand drawer.
The moment Cecilia glimpsed the novel’s title, she instinctively knitted her brow.
The Earl and the Maid’s Secret Meeting Vol. 1
“But that’s the book Kate put in your basket ages ago. You’ve been keeping it, Grandmother?”
Betty pulled back the bedding and patted the space beside her lightly.
“I read it through, and found it quite amusing.”
“Do you truly believe an earl and a maid could come together?”
Cecilia lay down beside her, opening the book, before asking the question cautiously. It took courage drawn from the knowledge that Betty had already read more than half of it alone.
“What reason would there be they couldn’t? The times change far more swiftly than our thoughts can follow. When I was young, a common soul like me would never have dared meet a noble’s eye. In the streets we pulled donkeys and carriages. But look at the world now—people ride in automobiles, and some commoners are treated far better than nobles!”
As she spoke thus, Betty’s eyes glimmered like those of an innocent girl. She exhaled a contented sigh and touched Cecilia’s nose gently with affection.
“In ten years, an entirely different world will unfold before us—one we cannot yet imagine, dear.”
“My, hearing you speak so fills me with longing already.”
Cecilia felt her heart suddenly overflow, and she burst into giggles, burrowing into Betty’s embrace. Betty laughed alongside her, stroking her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Afterward, as Cecilia read aloud from the book, she drifted into sleep in Betty’s arms without even realizing it.
When she woke, the night had grown profoundly still, a time when all things lay quiet.
“Cecilia.”
Ruby was tugging at the hem of her nightgown with its beak. Cecilia stirred with a sleepy moan.
“Ruby, we agreed to play catch in the morning……”
“Grandmother isn’t breathing.”
Cecilia’s eyes snapped open as she was pulling the blanket up.
She scrambled from the bed and pressed her fingers across Betty’s face, checking her condition. But the skin beneath her touch was cold as ice.
“G-Grandmother……?”
The wrinkled lips remained silent.
Nagi, perched upon Betty’s chest, spoke.
“She’s already gone, Cecilia.”
When Ruby switched on the lamp beside the bed, light flooded the space, and Betty’s form came into view.
Betty lay with her hands folded respectfully across her lower abdomen, cradling the photograph of Cecilia and the book close to her chest. Peace had finally settled upon her face, as though she had fallen into a deep slumber, and she seemed almost to be smiling as she dreamed a pleasant dream.
With trembling hands, Cecilia carefully extracted the picture frame and book, placing them on the nightstand. Then she slowly drew the blanket up over Betty’s head.
Finally, she buried her face in Betty’s chest and wept—a long, unbroken weeping that lasted an age.
* * *
How the days that followed unfolded, she could not quite recall.
The funeral was held at the Cottage.
Thursday morning. Betty, dressed in a clean burial shroud, was laid upon the bed. The people from the Main House came one by one to pay their respects to her.
Among them, of course, was Blake.
Clad entirely in mourning clothes from crown to sole, she stood beside the bed, gazing long upon Betty’s face. After tracing the Sign of the Cross across her chest in greeting, she turned back toward the Manor without a word.
On Friday, the undertaker came.
Honoring Betty’s final wishes, Cecilia asked that the body be cremated rather than buried in a casket. And so the hearse bearing Betty’s remains departed, accompanied by the farewells of all those present, and journeyed toward the Crematory in the City.
Saturday morning.
She had become a small urn.
That day, a thin rain fell from early dawn.
The brilliant autumn leaves had fallen entirely, leaving only the skeletal frames of trees to hold up the gray sky. With each breath Cecilia exhaled, a pale mist scattered into the morning air.
The moment Betty died, winter descended upon the world.
Cecilia followed the address written on a memo slip, heading toward a Church located on the outskirts of the City. The chauffeur who had driven her into the City mere weeks before took the wheel once more.
After dropping her off, he turned the car around and returned along the road they had come, honoring Cecilia’s request for time alone.
“…….”
Holding a single urn in her arms, Cecilia stood before the small Church—consisting of nothing but a single chapel—and blinked with unfocused eyes.
Not long after, she passed through the Cemetery beside the Church and began climbing the hill behind it in silence.
Though she had neither eaten nor slept for three days and nights, her legs felt strangely light and her breath came easily. It was as though she walked upon a cloud.
Saturday afternoon.
Betty had finally become part of the natural world.
Cecilia descended, cradling the lightened urn, and found a place to sit in the corner of the chapel. Though people occasionally entered to pray and departed again, everything felt like nothing more than a distant backdrop.
When she came to her senses, the world beyond the window had grown dark.
She had fallen asleep without knowing it.
Night wind seeping through the brick cracks set the wall lamps swaying with a creaking sound. In the stillness where no one stirred, at last Cecilia could think.
The Cottage where she had sent Betty off was painful even to recall; she could not bear to enter it again. Nor did she wish to remain at the Manor, continuing her work as a maid.
Should I just tell the lady now that I’m quitting and leave for the city? Working in a factory, earning a living—it doesn’t seem like such a terrible life.
No, honestly, I don’t know anything anymore. How am I supposed to live from here on?
How can I go on alone, without Grandmother……?
“Cecilia!”
Cecilia’s head snapped up.
“Cecilia! Cecilia!”
Davion burst through the church doors and ran across the nave toward her.
He was soaked through, every inch of him dripping. Outside the doorway, a running car sat with its headlights blazing, and through the bright beam she could see thick sheets of rain pouring down.
Cecilia set the urn down on the chair and rose unsteadily to her feet.
Davion pulled her into his arms.
“Oh, Cecilia, my love, I’m sorry I’m late.”
Cecilia’s shoulders began to shake. Davion cradled the back of her head gently and drew her deep into his embrace, her soft sobs muffled against his chest.
“How am I supposed to live now……?”
Cecilia whispered, gripping the fabric of his shirt.
“Now there’s truly no one left by my side…….”
“Why isn’t there? I’m here.”
Cecilia lifted her head, gasping roughly. Davion cradled her wet cheeks, met her eyes, and shook his head slowly.
“I’m standing right in front of you—don’t say such things, Cecilia.”
Only then did Davion’s figure begin to come into focus for Cecilia.
Eyes rimmed with bloodshot red. Dark stubble shadowing his jaw. His shirt was thin enough to be mistaken for sleepwear, and his ankles above his shoes were bare of socks. He looked like a man who’d torn himself from bed and run out into the night.
Yet remarkably, the moment she realized it, Cecilia broke off her tears with a sudden, quiet laugh. She leaned her exhausted body against his chest and whispered in a hoarse voice.
“You’ve got sleep in your eyes.”
“What?”
Davion frowned, then quickly bent his head and wiped his eyes with his palms.
While he did, Cecilia picked up the urn and held it close, remembering Betty’s last words to her, her fingers tracing its cold surface.
Grandmother, will another world truly unfold ten years from now?
By then, will the world perhaps look upon us more kindly……?
“Davion, shall we marry?”
In that instant, Davion’s restless hands went still.

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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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