The Reincarnated Noble Lady is the Infamous Viscount's Heir - I've Accepted a Contract Marriage for Estate Management. - Chapter 1.3

Three years had passed since my engagement with Claude was broken.

And yet, thanks to his loud proclamations to everyone about the “engagement cancellation,” I was still seen as “the viscountess who was dumped.”

Not the acting viscount.

No, I am the actual viscount, holding the title myself.

I didn’t have time to cry or sulk.

Instead of hiding away in shame like some noble ladies might, I threw myself into work for the past three years.

When my father passed away, I contacted a friend from my academy days. He worked as an administrator in charge of noble titles.

Since it’s not easy for a woman to inherit a title, I had prepared for this in advance.

It’s not widely known, but inheriting a title requires a mountain of paperwork—applications, proof of achievements, and thorough reviews. I had already started gathering these documents as a student.

Honestly, I had no choice. Our family was in bad shape, and I needed decision-making authority to keep things running.

It turns out, you can inherit a noble title even while the current holder is alive.

The easiest way is if the current titleholder can no longer manage the estate, such as due to severe illness or old age.

In my case, it was borderline whether it would be approved, but I managed to inherit the viscount title as quickly as possible.

Neither of my two older sisters nor my younger sister objected to me becoming the head of the family.

In fact, they seemed relieved to leave it to me.

Preparing to inherit the title while my father was still alive was frowned upon.

Even if I were a man, people would have looked at me with suspicion.

But our family’s situation was dire, and the fact that my eldest sister had married into the influential Russells Trading Company likely helped speed up the bureaucratic process.

Even though we were a weak viscount family, having a daughter marry into a powerful merchant house made people speculate.

Would the Russells eventually absorb the Wilcox territory? Wasn’t it safer to let the viscount title officially pass to someone, even if it was a woman?

Our household staff and stewards were thrilled with the arrangement, so there were no internal problems.

If I still had my old appearance from my previous life, this would have been impossible.

Society is cruel to unattractive people—I know that all too well.

Everyone who supported me—our staff, the stewards, even the officials handling my title transfer—responded quickly whenever I asked for help.

Let’s be real; it’s all thanks to this face. Even if it’s a bit like a villainess’s entourage, this face is priceless!

If I don’t use it now, when will I?

Though, for the record, there were absolutely no marriage proposals during this time.

Say what you will—I am now officially the Viscount of Wilcox!

Right now, I had just returned to our townhouse in the royal capital after another trip to the territory.

I prefer riding a horse over taking a carriage.

Why? Well, even though I’ve been reborn as a cool, stylish beauty, I don’t want to become lazy and risk getting fat!

Riding is great exercise.

Plus, having a horse is convenient. Running a territory is a business, and business requires speed.

When my escort opened the townhouse door, my youngest sister greeted me with a dazzling smile.

“Welcome home, Grace!”

It seemed my eldest sister, Patricia, had brought a dressmaker from the Russells Trading Company to prepare for Jessica’s social debut.

Jessica was sparkling more than usual—probably because she was in the middle of a fitting for her debutante gown.

After thanking the escort, I signed the contract for the job and handed over the remaining payment. This particular escort had worked with me several times before, so I was happy to pay them promptly.

Despite feeling exhausted from my trip, seeing my glowing little sister cheered me up.

“Welcome home, Jessica. The dress looks great on you,” I said.

She twirled happily in response. So cute. Cute is justice.

“Welcome back, Grace. Perfect timing. You should have a new dress made for yourself too,” Patricia said as she descended the stairs gracefully.

Even though she was married, Patricia still had the elegance and authority of the eldest daughter.

Her poise reminded me that she was a true noblewoman.

“A new dress? I’m not sure I understand, but can I bathe first? I just returned from the territory,” I replied.

Patricia nodded graciously, but of course, the maids insisted on helping me prepare.

As someone with memories of a past life, I still wasn’t used to this level of pampering. I managed to convince them to let me bathe alone, but one maid stayed nearby to assist with linens and clothes.

After bathing and changing, I joined Patricia and Jessica in the parlor, where a maid served chilled herbal tea.

The maids Patricia brought were incredibly polished in their movements, as if they served high-ranking nobles.

I sometimes hear other noblewomen whispering about Patricia, calling her “a fallen commoner.”

When I hear that, I can’t help but tilt my head in confusion.

How could anyone look at the way she carries herself—or the perfectly trained maids she brought—and call her a commoner?

“Grace, you need a new dress. You’ve worked the hardest out of all of us. Jessica has grown into a fine lady for her debut, and now it’s time for you to attend this evening party as a proper noblewoman and find a husband,” Patricia said firmly.

“But my engagement was called off once. Wouldn’t that reputation make marriage difficult?”

Don’t underestimate the stigma of a broken engagement.

Even if it was only a verbal agreement and technically a “mutual dissolution,” people still call it a “broken engagement.” (Especially since my ex-fiancé made such a public spectacle of it!)

This is the price we paid for working so hard to keep the family afloat.

Besides…

No matter how many times I’m reborn, I feel like I’ll never get married.

Even after being reborn as a stunning beauty, I still ended up with a broken engagement.

Maybe it’s just not meant to be.

I let out a heavy sigh.