Chapter 331: Teach Her a Lesson

Margaret pondered for a moment. If no one knew about this, then it wasn’t a trap.

Susan and Ashley didn’t know each other, so there was no reason for Susan to tip Ashley off. Besides, a woman from Vermelle Hall being accepted into the Valen family as a concubine—what an honor! There was no way she’d sabotage such a golden opportunity for herself.

“Enough, you may leave now,” Baret said.

“Mother, you should rest and stop culling those ladies. They gossip about you behind your back anyway,” Agnes advised.

“You go. I know what I’m doing,” Margaret said coldly.

As if she didn’t already know what people were saying about her? That was precisely why she couldn’t hide away. The more she avoided them, the worse the rumors would get.

Agnes dared not argue further and retreated. Leaving her mother’s courtyard, she headed straight for Eleanor’s.

Inside the room, Eleanor was crying. She had thrown a furious tantrum upon returning, smashing everything in sight. The maids had tried to calm her down but had all been chased out.

The moment Agnes stepped in, she lashed out, “Do you think this tantrum will change anything? Have you forgotten what your current status is? If Mother truly holds you accountable for your words, you’ll be lower than the servants in this household! Is that what you want?”

Eleanor, filled with resentment, glared at her. “You all promised to help me! Even if it meant being a concubine, you said you had a way! But now? Not only did you abandon me, you even drained the last of my dowry! And now I have to watch Martha marry in as the official wife, standing above me? How could I ever accept this? What do I have left to be afraid of? Do you think if I keep enduring, my life will miraculously get better? That William will spare me a second glance?”

Agnes found her attitude utterly annoying, but Eleanor was still useful. So, for now, she had to pacify her.

“Throwing a fit might make you feel better, but what else does it accomplish? William marrying Martha is actually a good thing. Why can’t you see that?”

Eleanor sneered. “A good thing? For whom?”

Agnes sat down and looked her in the eye. “Tell me, won’t William have to marry eventually?”

“So what? Does it have to be Martha? Who is she, anyway?” Eleanor spat.

“With William’s family background and talent, his future wife will certainly be a noble lady from a prestigious family. Forget her temperament—her status alone will crush you. If she asserts her position, you’ll be reduced to serving her day and night. Do you think you could ever hold your head high then? But Martha is different. Like you said, what is she, really? Just Geoffrey’s niece. Clark may serve at court, but everyone knows she and Clark don’t get along. She has no real backing. Without support, she won’t have the spine to mistreat you. And let’s not forget how she’s getting through the door—it’s thanks to us. Once she’s in, a few well-placed words from me, and she’ll know who to be grateful to.”

Seeing her expression change, Agnes smiled. “Now, didn’t I promise you that Isolde wouldn’t have a peaceful day today? Mother may disapprove, but since you’re upset, let me at least cheer you up a little.”

“Aren’t you afraid Margaret will punish you?” Eleanor, sensing the olive branch, softened her tone.

“Of course I am. But a promise is a promise, isn’t it?” Agnes sighed before shifting the blame. “Speaking of which, this whole Susan mess—it’s really your fault. Why did you leave so easily? You should have stayed and kept an eye on things,”

Eleanor clenched her teeth. “How was I supposed to know Susan was this useless? With her background, she couldn’t even seduce a man properly!”

“Forget it. Let her stay here for a few more days, then send her away. Since she’s supposedly your cousin, we can’t just toss her out immediately.” Agnes actually intended to use Susan to further irritate Isolde.

Meanwhile, over at the bridal chamber, the earlier commotion had been dealt with, and Esme had handed out enough gifts to disperse the crowd. Oliver had gone out to drink with the guests, leaving Isolde finally in peace. She stretched out on the bed with a sigh. “I’m exhausted.”

“Watch what you’re saying!” Esme hurried over. “Sit up. The ladies might come in to see you.”

“I know, just let me stretch. My back and neck feel like they’re about to snap,” Isolde groaned.

Since Oliver was out drinking, it was only a matter of time before the noblewomen would come in to inspect the new bride.

“Come, I’ll give you a massage. Sit up,” Esme said, helping her turn around. She pressed her fingers into Isolde’s shoulders and waist with practiced ease. The tension melted away instantly, and Isolde nearly dozed off.

“Better?” Esme asked.

“Mmm… so much better. I almost fell asleep,” Isolde murmured in bliss.

Esme chuckled. “No sleeping for you tonight.”

“I barely slept last night either. This whole wedding thing is exhausting.”

“It’s a once-in-a-lifetime event. You’re supposed to be happy, not tired,” Esme teased, then stopped and looked at her. “Are you hungry? I’ll go get you something warm.”

“No need to bother. There’s a whole feast right here.” Isolde gestured toward the massive table of food.

“That’s all cold now. Practically ice,” Esme scoffed and was just about to head out when she spotted someone approaching. Quickly, she rushed back inside. “Sit up straight. We have company.”

Isolde immediately straightened her posture, hands resting neatly in her lap, her face composed. From the sound of the approaching footsteps, she could tell—there was a whole battalion of women heading her way.

She forced a smile onto her lips, though it felt stiff.

Fortunately, leading the group was Rosemary, followed by Princess Aveline, Patricia, and Christine. A rather harmonious bunch.

Isolde recalled her past life—the last time she married William. Those noblewomen had mocked her mercilessly, never missing a chance to sneer at the “country girl.” She had sat just like this, seething inside, but too afraid to retaliate, forced to maintain a brittle smile.

“Alright, we’ve seen the bride. Let’s head back out for drinks,” Princess Aveline finally declared after half an hour of small talk.

Since she had spoken, everyone naturally followed her lead and filed out. Isolde let out a long breath, catching Princess Aveline’s glance as she exited. She offered a small, grateful smile.

Just as the last of the guests left, Hattie walked in, carrying a steaming bowl of broth.

“Here, quick. Miniro just brought this over. Drink it while it’s hot.”

Isolde, ravenous enough to kill, grabbed the bowl and gulped it down.

“Slow down, or you’ll burn yourself!” Hattie laughed at the sight of her devouring the soup like a starving beast.