Chapter 1047

The Marquis of Ironridge's family spent the night investigating. Once everything was clear, Margaret summoned Leopold and outlined her plan: "Divorce Serena, bring Jessica back, and invite the storytellers to tell the truth. We need them to clear things up."

Leopold, already disdainful of Jessica, vehemently disagreed. "I disagree, Mother. Let's leave things as they are. People gossiped about me because of Jessica. I finally found peace after divorcing her. The gossip doesn't concern us—it's all about Jessica. Clearing things up now will tarnish our reputation, and Emma's as well. She's your niece and the mother of my grandchildren. You're being too harsh. I won't take Jessica back; if she's divorced, she stays divorced."

Margaret's frustration and sorrow mounted. Leopold, she thought, possessed a head and eyes but was as unresponsive as a mannequin; he neither thought nor considered the consequences. In their noble family, a lazy, mediocre heir was the ultimate disgrace, worse than a wastrel.

Margaret, though reeling, pressed on. "Lady Carissa has thoroughly investigated. If I don't speak up, do you think she won't? She came because she respects me and wants us to handle this ourselves. If it gets out through her, we'll have nothing left to hide. Fine, it's your decision. Ironridge Estate is yours to manage. Whatever you decide, I'll support you."

She paused, her breathing labored. Leopold considered this, then asked, "Since Lady Carissa respects you, could we ask her to suppress the matter? That workshop is for show and attention. Wouldn't it be smarter to use it to gain a favor and keep the matter quiet?"

Margaret stared at him, confirming his seriousness before sighing heavily. "Fine. Speak with her, but you'll have to explain it yourself."

"I'm not familiar with her. You should talk to her," Leopold replied, hoping to avoid responsibility.

He was already annoyed—whether Jessica, Serena, or Flora had miscarried, he blamed them all. If Barbara hadn't provoked Jessica, none of this would have happened, and Flora's child would still be alive.

Margaret's heart sank. "I'm sick. I can't deal with this anymore. You must decide." She waved him away.

"Mother, you can't ignore this! It's a household matter—how can I interfere?" Leopold pleaded.

Margaret, after a moment of silence, slammed her bedside cup to the floor, shouting, "Why is it always on me? I'm dying! When I'm gone, who will care about this household?"

The cup shattered, shards scattering. One cut Leopold's hand. He winced, his irritation growing, but dared not oppose her, fearing disrespect.

"We can clear things up, but I won't take Jessica back. If anyone else wants her, they can have her. Serena can go too. I've had enough of her." He left, ordering the servants to clean up.

Margaret slumped back, tears falling. Useless!

The next day, Margaret invited storytellers to recount the situation. They were taken aback. Regardless of the truth, Jessica was disgraced and cast aside, while Emma maintained a spotless reputation. Why not let it lie? Who could Jessica rely on? Speaking out would irreparably damage the family's reputation.

Margaret, sensing their hesitation, said solemnly, "I am ashamed. I wrongly blamed Jessica, but knowing the truth, I must do right by her. This is a lesson for future generations—never trust one side of a story. Only by listening to all sides can we truly understand. We must remain calm, investigate thoroughly, and never let past mistakes cloud our judgment."

Her honesty earned the storytellers' admiration. They had witnessed many noble families covering up scandals at any cost, even lives, to protect their reputation.