Filed to story: Seventeen Heartbreaks: When Love Has No Voice
Gracelyn’s lips pressed into a taut line as she gestured sharply to a nearby servant.
The servant approached swiftly, and Gracelyn leaned in, her voice low but edged with irritation.
“Find out what’s keeping Leila. This delay is unacceptable.”
Before the servant could move, another figure rushed into the room. Gracelyn’s sharp eyes immediately identified her-one of her usual attendants.
The attendant’s flushed face and hurried movements set Gracelyn on edge.
The attendant stammered, catching her breath.
“Mrs. White, Miss Nixon… She’s… She’s run into some trouble.”
Gracelyn’s stomach tightened, but she masked her unease with a cool expression.
“Trouble? What kind of trouble? Is she feeling ill again?”
The attendant shook her head quickly.
“No, it’s not like that.” Her brows knit together, her hesitation palpable.
Gracelyn’s irritation deepened. She stepped closer, her tone sharper now.
“Enough with the theatrics. Speak plainly. What’s happened?”
The attendant hesitated again, as if weighing her words, before finally sighing.
“Mrs. White, it’s better if you see for yourself. Miss Nixon doesn’t want anyone else to see her.”
Gracelyn’s frown deepened, a mix of concern and exasperation flitting across her face. Something was clearly amiss. She straightened her posture, nodding briskly.
“Lead the way.”
Landon sat on the sofa, the conversation between Gracelyn and the attendant lost on him due to the distance. Though he didn’t hear their conversation, the sudden change in Gracelyn’s demeanor caught his attention.
Gracelyn turned to Landon just as she prepared to leave.
“I have something urgent to handle,” she said briskly.
“Please wait a moment.”
Landon offered a polite smile, inclining his head.
“Of course. Take your time-I’m in no rush.”
Without another word, Gracelyn followed the attendant through the corridor, her pace quick and purposeful. They stopped at a nearby room, where Gracelyn found Leila waiting, her back to the door.
To Gracelyn’s surprise, Leila was already dressed to perfection, her attire immaculate as always. Yet, she lingered in the room, showing no signs of joining the gathering.
Gracelyn’s brows furrowed in displeasure. This again? Leila had excused herself from dinner not long ago, citing illness. Could Leila be using the same excuse to avoid Mr. Collins once again? Or worse-was Leila deliberately avoiding Mr. Collins because they knew each other? Gracelyn’s mind churned with irritation and suspicion, but the moment her gaze landed on Leila’s face, everything stilled. Her breath caught in her throat, and she instinctively took a step back.
“Leila!” Gracelyn gasped, her voice tinged with disbelief. Her hand flew to her chest, trembling as she pointed at Leila’s face.
“What… What happened to your face?”
Leila sat slumped on the edge of the room’s sofa, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her shoulders heaved with quiet sobs as she struggled to compose herself.
“I… I don’t know,” she stammered.
“Just before I came out, my face started stinging-burning. I tried rinsing it with cold water, but… but it only got worse.”
Leila’s trembling fingers gestured toward her face, swollen and angry red with rashes that stood out starkly against her delicate skin.
“Look at me!” Leila wailed.
“How can I show myself like this?”
Gracelyn’s lips parted as she took in the sight. Leila’s once radiant complexion was marred with blotches and swelling, leaving her unrecognizable.
For a moment, Gracelyn didn’t know how to respond. She finally exhaled, her earlier suspicions melting away. For all her frustration, she understood one thing clearly-no woman would willingly subject herself to such disfigurement. Whatever had happened to Leila, it wasn’t of her own doing.
Gracelyn’s gaze turned icy as she faced the servants standing nearby.
“What did Leila eat today? Who did she meet? What did she do? Speak, and don’t waste my time.”
The servants exchanged uneasy looks until one finally stepped forward, her voice quivering.
“Miss Nixon didn’t have anything unusual. She ate the usual meals and took the same medication. But she felt a bit unwell earlier and briefly met with Dr. Watson for an examination.”
“And?” Gracelyn’s voice cut through the air like a blade.
The servant hesitated.
“Dr. Watson didn’t mention anything unusual. We were all with Miss Nixon and Florrie the entire time. Nothing out of the ordinary happened.”
Gracelyn’s expression hardened further.
“Fetch Calvert and Florrie immediately,” she said.
Moments later, Calvert and Florrie appeared at the door, their expressions starkly different.
Gracelyn’s abrupt and furious summons sent a ripple of unease through the air. As the message reached Calvert and Florrie, apprehension gripped them both.
Calvert was pale, beads of sweat trickling down his temple as if the weight of the room pressed on him.
Florrie, by contrast, looked confused-wondering why Calvert looked so nervous.
But upon seeing Leila’s face, Florrie immediately understood everything. She hid a smug expression behind a mask of concern. Her lips parted in feigned shock as she stepped forward.
“Oh, Miss Nixon! What happened to your face? How did it get this bad?”
Leila, already emotional, broke down further at the pointed remark, tears streaming down her blotchy cheeks.
Gracelyn shot Florrie a cutting look, the kind that silenced even the boldest. She turned back to Leila, her hand gently rubbing Leila’s back in what seemed like a comforting gesture.
Florrie stepped aside, her mask slipping for just a second. Inside, she reveled in Leila’s misfortune. Look at Leila now. That delicate face was ruined. How could Leila ever hope to charm Calvert again? But Florrie simply didn’t notice that Leila and Calvert had locked eyes briefly when Calvert walked into the room-a flicker of something unspoken passing between them.
Gracelyn’s icy gaze turned to Calvert, her tone colder than ever.
“Dr. Watson, don’t you think you owe us an explanation?”
Calvert’s face went pale, his composure crumbling under her steely glare. His legs felt weak, and for a moment, it seemed he might collapse entirely.
“Mrs. White, please, I… please, tell me clearly what I need to explain,” he stammered, his voice barely steady.
Gracelyn gestured toward Leila, who was still trembling with sobs, her hands shielding her disfigured face. Gracelyn’s frustration spilled over, her voice rising.
“The only person Leila interacted with today was you, Dr. Watson. And it was after meeting with you that her face turned into this!”
Calvert’s eyes widened, horror spreading across his face.
“Mrs. White, are you suggesting I’m responsible for this? I don’t have the courage-or the ability-to harm her like this!”
Florrie, who had been watching silently, suddenly felt her nerves unravel. While she gloated about Leila’s misfortune and suspected it was Calvert’s doing, Leila’s disfigurement did Calvert no good. He had no reason to do so.