Translator: Nox

Chapter 24

“I intend to press charges against James Hammington for attempted fraud. The sentence may be lenient given that the crime was not completed, but it must be done.”

Jacqueline met Windsor’s gaze; his gray eyes were clear and unblinking. She had realized some time ago that his resolve was forged of iron.

As she had suspected, Windsor was indifferent to the whispers of high society or the scandal that might follow. He simply acted according to his principles.

He was a man of quiet, steady action.

Jacqueline found herself unable to speak. To the world, she was the “impoverished lady,” a woman many assumed had traded her noble pride for survival.

Yet, in this moment, she realized that was not the case. A final, stubborn spark of dignity tightened in her chest.

Thud… thud…

The sound of approaching footsteps grew louder. It wasn’t a single person; a small crowd was nearing the room.

James’s voice rose in a frantic plea. “Lord Preston! Please, this is all a misunderstanding! We can discuss this—no, wait, I’ll pay you back…!”

Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as he babbled. Jacqueline watched him, her expression unreadable.

This was the man who had once charmed her father into ruin with honeyed lies. Now, he cowered before Windsor, his face pale with terror. The sight was as pathetic as it was hollow.

James Hammington was no mastermind; he was a common, sniveling fraud who preyed on the vulnerable while groveling before the powerful.

The tense silence was broken by a knock. The door swung open to reveal William.

“Sir, the police have arrived. They mention a prior engagement—how shall I proceed?”

Behind the butler stood a group of plainclothes detectives and constables in uniform. A burly, thickset man stepped into the room.

“Good evening, Lord Preston. I am Inspector Gale Baldwin. I believe there is a report to be made?”

Gale’s eyes swept the room, his professional detachment sharpening when they landed on James.

Years of experience told him the man was guilty; among the composed figures in the room, James alone was a mess of trembling nerves and cold sweat.

Gale glanced at Windsor, silently prompting him for the charge.

Windsor’s response was cool and distant.

“That man…”

“He is a swindler.”

Windsor turned his head slightly. Jacqueline raised her chin, her eyes fixed on James with cold fire. Gale shifted his attention to her.

“You are claiming fraud, Miss?”

“That man ruined my father. My father was desperate to cover my mother’s medical bills and agreed to sell a family mine at a fraction of its worth. He only realized he had been cheated after the deposit was paid—but the man had vanished. And now, Inspector, I have found him again.”

“I see.”

Gale gave a sharp nod to his men. The constables moved toward James, who recoiled in a futile attempt to escape.

They seized him quickly, the metallic snap of handcuffs ringing through the room.

“No! This is a mistake—a terrible mistake! Lord Preston!”

James struggled against his restraints, shouting for mercy, but Windsor looked on with chilling apathy.

Gale turned back to Jacqueline. “So, your father was his victim. If I may ask, Miss, what was his name?”

“My father is deceased. He was Baron Somerset. I am Jacqueline Somerset.”

“Jacqueline Somer—ah…”

Gale trailed off, the name clearly sparking a memory. He, like many in the city, recognized the name.

“The impoverished lady.”

Her tragic moniker had evidently traveled further than her actual name.

As Gale hesitated, Windsor spoke up with calm authority. “He attempted the same scheme with me. It was only through Miss Somerset’s intervention that I was spared—but to ensure no one else suffers his deceptions, I am pressing charges.”

“Here are the deeds and the mineral reports he provided. Even a cursory glance reveals them to be forgeries. You may add the falsification of official documents to his list of crimes.”

Roman stepped forward and handed the papers to Gale. Seeing his own evidence surrendered so effortlessly, James collapsed into despair, burying his face in his hands.

Gale stole a glance at Windsor. It was rare for a nobleman to involve the police.

Usually, the upper class avoided testimony at all costs. Even when a criminal was caught red-handed, they would deny being a victim to protect their reputation, often becoming indignant at the suggestion of weakness.

To them, honor was worth more than justice. It was a source of constant frustration for the police, who were often forced to release known criminals because of noble pride.

Gale recalled a junior officer’s bitter complaint: “What’s the point of breaking our backs to catch these rats, only to watch them walk free because some lord is too proud to admit he was fooled? Then they have the nerve to ask what the police are for.”

Gale had agreed with every word, though he had been forced to tell the man to mind his tongue.

Now, Gale removed his hat and gave Windsor a respectful bow.

“Thank you, my lord. I know this wasn’t an easy choice. I have great respect for your integrity.”

“Do not thank me,” Windsor replied. “Your gratitude belongs to Miss Somerset.”

“Quite right. Miss Somerset, you have my deepest respect for your courage.”

“It was necessary,” Jacqueline replied, her voice steady despite her tightly pressed lips.

Gale replaced his hat and asked tentatively, “Should we require your testimony, would you be prepared to appear in court?”

“I would, Inspector.”

“My thanks to you.”

Jacqueline gave a small, graceful nod. As she watched the officers lead James away, she bit her lip.

Inside, she felt something give way—a structural collapse of her old self. She couldn’t name the feeling.

Was it the death of her pride? The final shedding of her noble status? Or perhaps the end of her mourning for her father?

Whatever it was, the weight had lifted. Her shoulders relaxed, and she let out a long, quiet breath.

Windsor watched her closely, his eyes lingering on the curve of her brow. Only Roman noticed the look.

---

“Hurry, Emma!”

“Coming, ma’am!”

“Betty, don’t dawdle!”

“I’m on my way!”

The Preston manor was a whirlwind of activity from dawn, a stark contrast to its usual hushed atmosphere. Surprisingly, no one—not even Windsor, who cherished his silence—offered a word of complaint.

The frantic energy lasted until sunset, when the first carriage rolled up the drive. Suddenly, the house fell into a disciplined, elegant order.

A parade of carriages followed, most bearing prestigious family crests. Here and there, a modern automobile sat gleaming in the garden.

From an upper window, Jacqueline watched the arrivals. She sighed and turned away.

“I suppose it’s time for me to join them.”

She checked her reflection. She had chosen her dress with care, hoping it was appropriate, though she worried about the passage of time. Her wardrobe hadn’t been updated in three years, and fashion was a fickle thing.

“I won’t stay long,” she whispered to herself. “But I must find a moment to speak with Uncle Walter.”

She moved down the hallway, her feet knowing the path by heart now.

She knocked softly.

“It’s me, Benjamin.”

“Come in, Miss Somerset.”

She entered to find Benjamin looking like a miniature prince. He was dressed in a fine jacket and shorts with a crisp red bowtie, every inch the guest of honor.

With his hair slicked back neatly, the resemblance to Windsor Preston was striking.

Jacqueline felt a wave of genuine affection for the boy.

“Happy birthday, Benjamin.”

“Thank you,” he said, ducking his head. He looked uncharacteristically shy, his fingers twitching slightly inside his sleeves—a nervous habit only she seemed to catch.

“Ta-da!”

Jacqueline revealed what she had been hiding behind her back. Benjamin’s eyes went wide, his brown gaze filled with wonder.

“A birthday gift for you.”

The boy looked stunned, his long lashes fluttering as he stared at the object.

“I told you about him once, didn’t I?” Jacqueline said warmly. “This is Colin. He’s been my best friend and my family since I turned fifteen. From today on, he’s going to be your friend, too.”

She gave the plush bear a little wiggle.

Benjamin looked at Colin, who wore a matching red ribbon around his neck. He seemed unsure of how to react; he had never owned a toy like this.

As the Preston heir, he had everything money could buy, yet he lacked the simple things other children took for granted.

He had always assumed stuffed animals were for girls, or for children who weren’t expected to lead a great house.

Seeing his hesitation, Jacqueline smiled. She knew exactly what was going through his mind.

“He isn’t just a toy, you know,” she whispered.

Benjamin’s eyes lit up. He remembered her secret identity—perhaps Colin was an enchanted creature. Up close, the bear did look quite intelligent.

“Whenever I was sad or lonely,” she continued, “I told Colin everything. He is a wonderful listener. He never gets bored, no matter how long the story is. And…”

She leaned in with a playful wink. Benjamin leaned forward, captivated.

“He’s very good at keeping secrets. And he told me he’d very much like to be your friend.”

“I see… thank you, Miss Somerset.”

Benjamin took the bear with a look of solemn responsibility, as if bracing himself in case the bear decided to speak.

The plush fur was softer than anything he had felt. Without thinking, Benjamin pulled the bear close, staring into its glass eyes with fascination.