The Reincarnated Noble Lady is the Infamous Viscount's Heir - I've Accepted a Contract Marriage for Estate Management. - Chapter 1.7

“Good evening, Grace.”

Percival’s elder brother, Edward Mayfield, had recently become the head of the Mayfield family last month.

The Mayfield viscountcy owned numerous textile factories in their territory, contributing significantly to the capital’s textile industry. It was rumored they would soon be granted the title of count. Given our territory’s ability to provide raw materials, we maintained a good relationship with them.

“Grace, your dress is stunning. Is it one of the new designs from the Russells Trading Company?”

The viscountess, Lady Louise, admired my dress with a warm smile. She had a keen eye, instantly noticing the lace—a key feature of the design.

As a proper viscountess, I needed to respond appropriately.

“Lord Mayfield, Lady Louise, good evening. This dress is made with silk from the Mayfield textile mills. The fabric is exquisite.”

Always begin by complimenting the other party’s product.

Of course, the lace on this dress wasn’t just any lace—it was made from Petit Arachne thread, a specialty material produced exclusively in our territory. While we couldn’t produce silk, this rare thread had gained attention in the textile industry and was used prominently in the lace accents on the sleeves, collar, and embellishments.

The viscount and his wife were clearly intrigued by the material.

“The lace is remarkable. It pairs perfectly with our silk. Did you design this, Grace?”

I didn’t reply directly, instead offering a polite, enigmatic smile. He seemed to take that as a yes.

“If only we had another brother, we’d gladly welcome you into our family.”
“Grace, you must attend more gatherings like this. So many people have been pestering him to introduce you,” added Lady Louise.

“Thank you,” I said, retracting my smile and replacing it with a composed, neutral expression. Time to embody the stoic demeanor of a viscountess.

“Judging by the crowd watching you, there are far more suitors interested in you than we have fingers to count. We’ll need to choose carefully to find someone far better than that strange Claude Autred. He was never a match for you.”

Ah, “strange Claude.” Even Edward referred to my ex-fiancé that way.

I wasn’t sure what the Mayfields and Russells had done behind the scenes after my broken engagement, but they had ensured I heard nothing about him. Still, I knew Autred’s family had sold their townhouse and moved to a less expensive area a year after the debacle.

Being on the bad side of the Russells Trading Company and the soon-to-be-count Mayfield family had clearly spelled disaster for them.

“People really have been asking me to introduce you, Grace,” Edward continued.

It was flattering, but truthfully, I would rather discuss business than marriage prospects. Unfortunately, expressing such thoughts here, at a gathering of gentlemen and ladies, would only worsen my reputation as a “greedy daughter who seized power before her father’s death.”

Not that I cared much about what people thought, but who would want to marry someone with that reputation?

“Or have you received any inquiries from Marchioness Forster?” Edward asked casually.

Following his gaze, I spotted the marchioness across the room. She was known for introducing suitable men and women in the noble circles. A well-meaning but overly meddlesome woman, she had a knack for matchmaking, despite her long-winded conversations. After all, she had introduced my eldest sister Patricia to her husband.

“Not yet,” I replied.

Before Edward could respond, another gentleman approached with a polite greeting. Judging by the timing, this was likely the man Edward and Louise had wanted to introduce me to.

But as I curtsied and excused myself, I couldn’t help but think, Pass.

I heard Edward murmur to the gentleman, “She’s quite reserved, you see,” as I stepped away.

Yeah, no.

The man had sepia-toned hair and eyes, reminding me far too much of my ex-fiancé. That was enough to put me off.

I retreated to the wall, seeking refuge with a familiar face—Ada Ainsworth.

The Ainsworth family was a barony, but they were connected to higher-ranking nobles. Though they didn’t own land, they operated the capital’s leading newspaper and had expanded into publishing.

Ada, however, was the opposite of flashy. She blended in with the background, her unassuming looks and quiet demeanor making her nearly invisible. Yet she had a kind smile that could charm anyone who looked closely.

“You’ve been quite the center of attention tonight, Grace. Watching everyone flock to you was rather entertaining,” Ada remarked, handing me a cocktail from a passing waiter.

“Of all the eager gentlemen here, I get to have you to myself,” she added with a smirk.

I sighed softly, accepting the glass.

“The ones talking to me are mostly business connections. Don’t forget, tonight is Jessica’s debut.”

“Perhaps, but seeing the way people swarmed you when you entered was impressive.”

“Most of them are former classmates or acquaintances. A few were just curious to get a closer look at the ‘rare female viscount.’”

Ada’s knack for observing and analyzing people stemmed from her family’s business. The two of us shared a rare bond, both being noblewomen deeply involved in our family affairs, often at the expense of our personal lives.

Finally, I felt I could relax. Sipping my cocktail gracefully, I let out a quiet breath of relief.

“By the way, Grace…” Ada’s tone shifted, and she nodded toward the crowd.

I followed her gaze, my breath catching.

Claude.

The man who had publicly ended our engagement three years ago now stood in the ballroom.

“Why…?”

“He is your ex-fiancé, isn’t he? Didn’t you ask me to look into him? I heard he was disowned and sent to a relative’s farm,” Ada whispered.

Indeed, my sisters’ connections had ensured I heard nothing about him, but I’d asked Ada to find out what had happened.

In the end, he hadn’t married the woman he brought to our house that day. His family, desperate to salvage their reputation, had disowned him and removed his noble status.

“Did he marry into another family to regain his title?” I asked Ada.

She shook her head.

Just as I considered finding Jessica, a hand extended in front of me.

Ada and I both stared at it, puzzled, before looking up.

There, with golden hair and amethyst eyes, stood Lord Vincent Rockwell—the man every lady dreamed of dancing with.

“It’s an honor to meet a lady such as yourself this evening. Would you grant me the pleasure of a waltz? I may be a knight, but tonight, I wish to be your prince.”

His amethyst eyes sparkled as he smiled gently at me.