Chapter 25

After the wedding, Vivian moved out of Hild Manor. Jennifer was also preparing to leave and return home. She attempted to speak with the baron, hoping to take Anna with her, but was unsurprisingly refused.

"You are already Mrs. McLeod; you have no right to interfere in Hild family matters!" The baron was furious, his face flushed like hot coals in a furnace. "I've been lenient enough with you about Evelyn. If you still want to come back to this manor occasionally, you must know your place."

"I can't let Anna live under the same roof as a prostitute!" Jennifer stood her ground. "Even if you marry someone else, as long as she's of proper background, I have no objections."

During the time spent preparing for Vivian's wedding, Baron Hild had reluctantly allowed Evelyn to leave, yet he still frequently visited her. Jennifer realized it was impossible to expect the baron to remain unmarried for their mother's sake. The once tall and reliable father figure had crumbled completely. Now, she only hoped to prevent a courtesan from controlling Anna's future.

The baron exploded in anger, "How dare you speak to me like this!?" He threw a cup to the floor, the sharp sound of its shattering startling Jennifer, who covered her ears and stepped back, frightened.

"Vivian is already married, and you should go back to Paris!"

"Get out!"

Jennifer had never seen her father so furious. She was terrified but still clenched her hands, unwilling to back down. "Please reconsider," she softened her tone, pleading repeatedly, "even a poor girl would be fine, as long as—"

"I told you to get out!"

The baron cut her off, his fury reaching a peak. His daughters had continuously angered him, showing no understanding of his feelings. Now that Vivian was finally married, he thought he could have some peace, but his eldest daughter, already married, was not only interfering with his marriage plans but also asking to take his youngest daughter away. "Do you think I'm so old that I'm confused? Or do you mean to say... Ah..."

The baron's voice suddenly stopped, and he clutched his chest, bending over in pain.

"Father!"

Jennifer was horrified and quickly helped him to sit down. "Oh, God," she cried out in panic. "Someone come quickly! Call Dr. Smith! Hurry!"

Fear overwhelmed her. Despite their earlier argument, they were still father and daughter, bound by blood, inseparably connected.

"Please, hold on, Father."

Jennifer begged with tears in her eyes.

Jennifer's pleas went unheard by God. The baron collapsed, falling into a coma. Dr. Smith said his condition was not good. "Please do something, Doctor, anything," Jennifer implored, her hair disheveled and her face haggard.

"I will do my best, but his condition..." Dr. Smith hesitated.

Jennifer sank weakly into a chair, covering her sorrowful face.

Luther bent down, placing a comforting arm around her shoulder. "My dear, you need to rest," he said gently, his voice full of concern and worry.

"No, no, I'm not tired," Jennifer refused repeatedly, speaking through her pain. "It's all my fault. If I hadn't argued with him, Father wouldn't have fallen ill."

"Don't worry, the baron will be fine. But you are worrying me. Go and rest, see Anna and George. I'll take care of him."

Luther's gentle persuasion was sincere, yet firm. After a moment of contemplation, Jennifer accepted his suggestion.

"Thank you," she nodded gratefully.

The atmosphere at Hild Manor was tense. If the lady of the house's illness had slowed down the manor's operations before, now the entire estate was engulfed in deep anxiety.

Baron Hild was over fifty, aging rapidly, forcing him to consider his successor. Before George's birth, there was no male heir to inherit the Hild estate. If the baron died, everything he owned would be reclaimed by the noble who had granted the Hild family their land.

This urgency over their livelihood was why Susan had been so meticulous about her daughters' marriages. Love and happiness seemed trivial compared to their pressing survival concerns.

All the servants in the manor were equally anxious about the succession. If the land was reclaimed, they might be dismissed, losing their respectable jobs. Therefore, although George's birth had coincided with the lady's death, for most of the manor's inhabitants, it was good news. The master could marry a new woman, and the servants would not fear losing their jobs. In a decade or so, when the young master grew up, everything in Hild Manor would be secure. He would live as his father had and pass this way of life on to his offspring.

But now, the great heir, the future master, was just a crying infant. If the baron passed away, he would be assigned a guardian. Until he could take control of the manor, everything belonging to him would be under the guardian's control.

This made the entire manor anxious.

"Do you think the baron will be alright?"

Several footmen whispered at the bottom of the stairs.

"Hard to say; he's old after all," said an older footman. "But he's in decent health. Maybe with some rest, he'll recover."

"Didn't the lady die from an illness too? And she was much younger than the baron," muttered a young man. "I heard it was because of Jennifer Miss. If the baron dies, wouldn't it be because she angered him to death?"

"Who says otherwise?" someone chimed in.

"Young Master George is just a few months old. How can he inherit the whole manor? It's all Jennifer Miss's fault, dragging us all down!"

Their voices grew louder, not noticing Mike entering through the back door, catching every word. "Silence!" he scolded sternly. "It's not your place to gossip about the Miss and the baron. If I hear it again, I'll tell the butler and have you all thrown out!"

The footmen were terrified, pleading for mercy. Though angry, Mike didn't wish to argue with them further and dismissed them before heading to check on the baron.

After Mike left, the footmen huddled together, still shaken. "God, how did he hear us! Hope he doesn't tell the butler, or we're doomed."

The older footman reassured them, "Don't worry, Mr. Mike is a gentleman. If he said he wouldn't report us, he won't."

"Maybe, but did you see his attitude? Acting like he's the master! Jimmy, do you think if the master..." the young man made an obscure gesture, "he would become Young Master George's guardian?"

"Who knows? Mr. Mike is Lady Susan's cousin and close to the baron..." Jimmy's voice trailed off, deep in thought. The footmen waited anxiously for a while before urging, "Come on, tell us more!"

"Nothing more. Stop chatting and get to work!" Jimmy snapped, driving them away. Having worked at Hild Manor for years, he knew better than the young footmen. A bit of gossip was fine, but offending the next "master" could be disastrous.

Jimmy was determined to start currying favor with the new "master" immediately. Every change in ownership was a rare opportunity for servants to rise, and he intended to seize it.

As for the other footmen, he had no intention of offering them any guidance.

Mike hurried upstairs, where Anna ran into his arms. "Oh, Anna," he said, catching the small girl. "I'm sorry it took me so long to come."

"How's your father?"

Anna looked up at Mike with a slightly aggrieved but otherwise healthy expression. "Father woke up twice but soon fell asleep again."

"Uncle Mike, will Father die too?"

Anna's clear eyes looked at Mike like those of a fledgling bird or a young foal. Mike felt a surge of affection, gently stroking her hair.

"Don't worry, Anna. The baron will get better."

But Anna said, "No, they say Father might not get better."

Mike's face darkened. "Who told you that?" He recalled Anna's previous experience of running into the woods due to the servants' gossip and sternly reminded her, "Anna, you are a noble lady. You must not believe the servants' nonsense."

"Of course, Uncle Mike."

"Where are Jennifer and the others?"

"In Father's room."

"I'll go check on the baron. Be good and don't worry everyone, alright?"

Anna nodded obediently.

Baron Hild was still asleep. His room was tightly closed, with the fire burning so fiercely that it felt suffocating. The room's smell was unpleasant—a typical, sickly odor.

The smell of impending death.

Jennifer was by the baron's bedside. When Mike entered, she stood to greet him. Mike noticed the young lady's weary face and slightly cold expression.

"Thank you for coming."

"How is the baron?"

"There's been no improvement," Jennifer lowered her eyes. "Dr. Smith has done his best. Now all we can do is pray."

"Is it that bad?" Mike approached the baron's bed slowly. The baron lay there, his wig removed, revealing a bald head. His face was sagging, his wrinkles like muddy ditches.

Despite his recent frivolous behavior with courtesans, as if he were a carefree young man, he was indeed over fifty, lying there like a pile of dead meat.

Life is so fragile.

Mike couldn't offer the usual comforting words to Jennifer. "Please take care of yourself," he said after a long silence.

"Thank you for your concern."

Jennifer gradually accepted the reality of the baron's impending death. She asked Luther to extend their stay indefinitely, though they both knew it would be until after the baron's funeral.

She blamed herself for everything, tormented by guilt day and night. Yet what happened next seemed so ironic that it almost alleviated her sorrow.

The baron had woken up twice before, calling for Andrew's father and a lawyer to finalize his will and make a request. "What? He wants to marry that woman?" Jennifer trembled with anger, and Luther held her hand. "Calm down, dear."

"Yes, Baron Hild agreed to let you take Miss Anna away, on the condition that he marries Miss Evelyn," the lawyer said calmly.

The baron had already left a will, indicating he knew his time was short. Yet he still wanted to marry a courtesan, almost a declaration of true love.

Mike was equally shocked. "What will you do?"

"Luther advised me to agree. Vivian and Anna don't know about this yet."

Although the will had not been disclosed, as a daughter, Jennifer had no inheritance rights. The estate and properties belonged to George. If Evelyn became the baroness, she wouldn't get a penny theoretically, but as George's guardian, she would have the right to enjoy everything in the manor.

Jennifer kept the matter to herself, and the other witnesses remained tight-lipped. It was only when Mike visited today that she couldn't help but confide in him.