The Reincarnated Noble Lady is the Infamous Viscount's Heir - I've Accepted a Contract Marriage for Estate Management. - Chapter 1.34

I am Grace Wilcox, currently staying—somehow—at the Redgrave Ducal Estate.

After what happened, Lady Angelina innocently insisted, “It’s already late, and you need treatment. Just stay at our place for the night!” But when I tried to leave the next morning, she exclaimed, “Oh my! Even as the head of a viscount family—no, especially because you’re the head of a viscount family! You absolutely cannot wander around with a swollen face like that!”

In two or three days, the swelling on my face went down. However, during those days, Lady Angelina said things like, “I’ve been preparing for a tea party. Would you help me? I’ve always thought it’d be nice to have another girl around for this!”

I tried to politely and gracefully explain that I had no experience with tea parties and wouldn’t be of any help, intending to excuse myself. But then she unleashed the ultimate teary-eyed, puppy-dog look. Her maids and the butler pleaded with me, saying, “Viscount Wilcox, please indulge the Lady until she’s satisfied.”

This mansion, by the way, is located in the noble district near the royal castle. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if it had once served as the royal family’s secondary palace.

The morning after I tried sneaking out during the night, I got caught by the butler. This place is huge—it’s so easy to get lost! Seriously, is this a mansion or a castle? Moving around here by yourself is practically impossible.

When the tea party preparations finally wrapped up, the Duke handed me some strange documents and asked me to give my honest opinion. Was he trying to keep me here? Admittedly, I’m interested in the documents related to territory management.

But accepting these would be a mistake.

If I take them, I’ll be stuck here indefinitely. Today marks the third day of my stay at the ducal estate—three days!

“Your Grace… With all due respect, may I ask why you insist on keeping someone as insignificant as a viscount like me here?”

No matter how intimidating the Duke looks, I won’t back down. After all, I’ve been called villainous enough times myself. I will leave. I have things to do!

Resolutely, I placed the documents he had handed me back onto his desk. The Duke, with his elbows on the desk and his chin resting on his hands in a rather calculating pose, looked up at me.

“Viscount Wilcox, I want you to stay here for your own safety.”

“Huh?”

“What do you know about Duke Brocklebank?”

His deep voice made me catch my breath. His violet eyes, almost like a shade of periwinkle, radiated a royal air.

If it were anyone else asking, I would have yelled, “How should I know?!” and bolted out of the mansion. But Duke Brocklebank is this Duke’s cousin. As the son of the previous king’s elder sister, he was born a royal but later descended into nobility like this Duke. Still, he retains a claim to the throne.

“Duke Brocklebank is the son of the previous king’s sister. That much I know as common knowledge.”

“And his daughter, the young lady of the Brocklebang household?”

“She was the ‘true love’ of my ex-fiancé—the one who broke off our engagement three years ago. At the time, she wasn’t yet recognized as a duke’s daughter.”

The Duke gave me a stern look, silently urging me to continue. I explained how I later learned of her social debut as the Duke’s adopted daughter and how she is now rumored to be associated with the Crown Prince.

“It struck me as odd that she seems to repeat the same pattern of taking a fiancée’s partner—and now, with royalty involved, it’s even more concerning. As a mere viscount, let alone a woman, there’s little I can do… but…”

“You certainly have information on par with the military police.”

“Even stranger is that my ex-fiancé, who had been disowned by his parents, was still spending his days indulging in luxuries in the capital. I tried investigating those who knew him, which is how I ended up in a dangerous situation—one Your Grace saved me from.”

I said everything I could, but the Duke still seemed deep in thought.

“Duke Brocklebank, like me, is a former royal with a claim to the throne. If he wishes to revive that dream, adopting a girl of questionable parentage as his daughter isn’t unusual. What do you make of it?”

The Duke handed me another file.

“As I said…”

“I want your insights. You have a knack for territory management.”

I glanced at the file. As instructed, I sat on the sofa in his office to review it. It was about a territory that dealt with saltpeter. Wait, wasn’t this adjacent to the Brocklebank estate?

Some numbers looked suspicious—the production and sales figures didn’t align. Over the past three years, there seemed to be a deliberate discrepancy.

Saltpeter is crucial for gunpowder, so it’s odd to see a decline in production while the costs remain unchanged—or even increase. If it were me, I’d look for other profitable ventures, but… this feels like stockpiling for war.

“Your thoughts?”

“They’re hiding something. Saltpeter production is likely ongoing…”

Duke Brocklebank appears to be secretly hoarding resources. Could this mean he’s preparing for a coup, even aiming for regicide?

This is dangerous information—something a lowly viscount like me shouldn’t know.

“You’ve realized what this means. Stay here for now.”

I’ve been outplayed. Of course, I’ll be monitored after seeing this! Why did he even show it to me?!

The butler, Abbott, knocked on the door to announce a visitor. Before I could excuse myself, the Duke gestured for me to stay seated.

I really don’t need any more information!

When the guest entered, I immediately stood up in shock.

“Count!”

I called out instinctively, rushing over to him. It wasn’t joy I felt but concern—his pale complexion had turned even paler.