MAC 08

Chapter: 08

When the commotion had broken out a little while ago, Patrick had been so absorbed in examining the moss growing in the narrow gaps of the stone wall that he had neither seen nor heard anything.

Just before leaving the garden, Patrick discovered another small colony of moss growing on a different stone wall.

This time, there was no noisy commotion around him, nor was the baroness’s shrill, overexcited voice there to disturb him.

For whatever reason, Lady Norton, who had inexplicably been sitting down on a pile of fertilizer, had also disappeared, so Patrick calmly took the loupe (magnifying glass) out of his pocket.

He approached the stone wall, lowered himself with the magnifying glass in hand, and a miniature world densely growing within a palm-sized patch of shade came into view.

Each tiny leaf of moss was plump with moisture, glistening with a fresh, dewy sheen. When he adjusted the magnification a little further, he could even see tiny flying insects busily moving among them.

In the heart of the city, even in this shaded corner of such a splendid garden, what incredible vitality these tiny creatures possessed, stubbornly carving out a life for themselves!

That was why Patrick Bennett loved moss more than any other plant.

The joy of discovering a hidden world. Simple, yet to him, an extraordinary and beautiful wonder. Nature in its purest and most honest form, untouched by human hands and free from artificial interference.

There were countless varieties of moss, too. Every time he looked through a magnifying glass, an entirely different landscape unfolded before him, making moss a plant that was endlessly fascinating to observe.

Patrick carefully reached out and touched it with his fingertips. As he gently stroked the soft surface of the colony, the sensation against his skin felt incredibly fresh and lively.

“This is nature.”

The words slipped out as a quiet murmur before he even realized it. He also failed to notice that, for the first time all day, his usually indifferent face had come alive, and a faint smile had spread across it.

Whenever he quietly observed things like this, Patrick’s heart would become utterly peaceful.

Compared to the baroness’s extravagant garden, which she proudly claimed to have spent her entire life carefully cultivating and astronomical sums of money maintaining, a handful of moss growing in an unattended crack in a stone wall felt a hundred times more beautiful to him.

Away from clinging gazes, suffocating courtship rituals, and such tiresome relationships, he could fully enjoy happiness while gazing in wonder at this tiny forest.

“My lord?”

At the sound of someone calling him, he raised his head and saw the Baroness Norton looking down at him with a worried expression. Patrick put away his magnifying glass and stood up.

“Ah, yes. Is Lady Norton all right?”

“Yes, she went to change her clothes.”

The baroness’s face reddened as she hurriedly changed the subject.

“This area is rather unsightly because the moss has spread all over the ground, so I feel embarrassed seeing you examine it so closely. Would you like to go look at the orchids over there instead?”

“The moss isn’t unsightly. In fact, I was looking closely because it’s a variety I haven’t seen before.”

“Oh my, thank you for saying that, but moss really is such a troublesome nuisance. It keeps spreading everywhere, and it’s such a headache….”

A brief hint of irritation passed through the baroness’s voice as she frowned and looked down at the ground. Patrick watched her expression closely.

“Well, anyway.”

The baroness quickly erased the expression from her face and eagerly took Patrick by the arm, beginning to explain the orchids.

“They were brought from the East, and they’re extremely rare orchids. They’re very delicate, so I paid a considerable price to have them brought here. They’re so precious that not just anyone is allowed to see them, but especially for you, my lord….”

That was where Patrick’s patience ended.

The tea party and the garden tour were nothing more than a play designed to eventually tie him down as a prospective husband. All of this was simply a waste of time.

“…Thank you for your kindness, my lady.”

Patrick spoke with utmost politeness, but there was not the slightest opening in his words.

“I apologize for seeming to have been a burden after you went to the trouble of inviting me to such a pleasant gathering. I think I should go and look up some materials.”

“Oh my, my lord! You must see the orchids before you leave.”

The baroness desperately clung to him, but Patrick firmly shook his head.

“I have little interest in orchids. Some people may enjoy plants simply because they paid a high price for them… but in any case, they aren’t to my taste.”

Patrick strode out of the garden and approached his mother, who was still chatting with the other ladies.

“Mother, I’ll be leaving first. I still have some work that needs to be finished quickly.”

“You’re leaving already? Patrick, wait a moment.”

His mother tried to stop him, but he was already walking toward where the carriage was waiting.

He wanted to leave this place as soon as possible.

All he wanted was to escape to somewhere he could immerse himself completely in his research without having to mingle with people.

He sincerely hoped he would never be dragged into another gathering like this again.

The eastern annex of the Somerset Estate.

It was around sunset. Hurried footsteps echoed through the second-floor corridor. The elderly butler, Arthur Banks, was the one making them.

He was normally an immaculate man who would never allow even a speck of dust to settle on his collar, but a large patch of gray dust clung to his back, which he had failed to brush off while hurrying along. It was a remnant from passing through the underground service passage, which was rarely used.

“Good heavens….”

Letting out a helpless sigh, Arthur made his way to the end of the long corridor. He carefully listened for any sign of movement beyond the firmly closed door before knocking softly.

“Miss?”

Perhaps she hadn’t heard the knock, because there was no response from inside. Arthur politely knocked once more, and on the third attempt, he opened the door himself.

“Miss Beatrice? You’re in there, aren’t you?”

The moment he opened the door, a powerful smell assaulted his nose. Grimacing at the scent of paint and oil, the butler looked around.

“Miss?”

Arthur glanced around, trying his best not to step on scraps of paper or paint containers scattered across the floor.

It hadn’t even been a few days since the young lady had returned, so how on earth had the room already become such a disaster?

“Ah!”

Arthur nearly kicked an oil can by mistake and quickly twisted his body away in alarm.

Unfinished sketches, all kinds of reference materials, books, canvases leaning against the walls, water containers, and even the offending oil can that had nearly met his foot—everywhere he looked, it was like a minefield.

The other servants didn’t even dare set foot in this room, so in the end, Arthur was the only one who had to endure twice the stress caused by the young lady’s careless habits.

Letting out several deep sighs, Arthur began searching for Beatrice, checking between the tables and behind the canvases for wherever she might have buried herself in this enormous room.

“Miss?”

Fortunately, before he had to go very far, Arthur quickly found Beatrice Somerset buried in a long velvet chaise longue.

“My goodness.”

Perhaps she was exhausted from working on her painting throughout the night. Beatrice was completely wrapped in a blanket, with even her head covered. Her breathing was slow and deep, as though she were sound asleep.

Arthur stared blankly at the enormous blanket caterpillar that repeatedly rose and fell with each breath before quickly coming to his senses and raising his voice.

“Ahem! Ahem! Miss?”

The rolled-up blanket creature stirred. After waiting a little longer, the fabric covering her face was slowly pulled down, and a golden head suddenly popped out from underneath.

“Ar…thur?”

Her voice was thick with sleep, and soon her face emerged as well, while her brilliant blonde hair spilled completely out from beneath the blanket like a cascade of gold.

“I’m back, Miss.”

Arthur patiently waited as Beatrice sat up, rubbed her eyes, and then covered her pretty lips while giving an elegant yawn. He quietly studied the young lady’s face.

Despite having spent several days and nights switching between sleeping and working at odd hours, her healthy complexion seemed to be something she had been born with.

Her clear, fair face was completely free of even a single blemish, and her bright, lucid eyes showed no trace of having stayed awake through the night. That was perhaps what always amazed him whenever he looked at Beatrice Somerset, who was as beautiful as a flower in full bloom.

“So, how did it go? Did you send it safely?”

“Yes, just as you instructed….”

Arthur suddenly lowered his voice.

“I safely sent your artwork and your application for studying abroad to Verquion’s Salon.”