Chapter 300 – The Fund, the Talk, and the Eavesdropping
Stare————
Several gazes, each carrying a different meaning, landed on Hazel the moment she stepped through the door, instantly stiffening the previously relaxed office atmosphere.
Lorne read the awkwardness, shyness, and unease from her faintly flushed cheeks, flickering eyes, and fingers unconsciously twisting together.
How did she find out about the banquet?
Right—the banquet will have Church and high-society guests. Councilor Macht is closely tied to the Night Church, so it's no surprise he knows—Lorne quickly pieced together the general picture.
"You—you're… Are there other people here?" Hazel looked toward Xio and Fors, her tone rather flustered.
Xio and Fors likewise studied the sudden intruder without concealment. Her dark-green hair was impeccably groomed, her clothes refined and well-fitted—clearly a well-bred young lady of the upper crust.
She just mentioned the banquet? She wants to attend it with Scott?
A buzz—an inexplicable sense of threat surged in the two girls' hearts.
One short, tousle-haired and childish-looking; the other decently pretty but lacking in presence and older than me—Hazel swiftly sized up her two "rivals" and concluded, Advantage: mine.
Wait—what nonsense am I thinking! She abruptly shook off these absurd thoughts.
"They're my friends," Lorne said with a slight nod.
"This is Xio Derecha."
"And this is Fors Wall."
At the same time he introduced, "This is Miss Hazel Macht, investor in the factory."
The girls dipped in a polite curtsey.
Yet Xio and Fors's eyes never left Hazel—
"Miss Macht, are you here to discuss the investment?" Lorne tactfully ignored the banquet topic.
He had a hunch the conversation could spiral out of control if it continued.
"I heard from Old Kohler and the others that you visited some time ago."
"I—" Hazel bit her lip lightly, avoiding Lorne's gaze. "I heard you'd been arrested, so I came to check."
"If something happened to you, my investment would go down the drain."
"I'm honored by your concern, Miss Macht." Lorne smiled. "But rest assured, business has stabilized; your investment is safe."
He shifted to a tone of dismissal: "If there's nothing else, please head back for now. I'll pay a formal visit another day."
The sudden politeness made Hazel uncomfortable.
But she couldn't leave yet—Father's instructions remained unspoken.
"Could it be you want to add to your investment?" Lorne feigned sudden realization.
"What?" Hazel didn't catch on at once.
"You must've seen the papers—my factory's booming lately. Wanting to invest more would only be natural, right?"
"I—" The remark flustered her further; she lowered her head, fingers clenching her skirt. The Machts' finances were dire—otherwise she wouldn't have come earlier trying to reclaim her Thousand Pounds, let alone pour in more.
How come this young lady is completely wrapped around Scott's finger—Xio and Fors shared the exact same thought.
"I… I have some private matters to discuss," Hazel hesitated. "Could you ask your friends to—"
"Tsk—"
Seeing this, Lorne turned and smiled at Fors and Xio.
Hearing "private," the two had no choice but to leave, albeit reluctantly.
Yet the moment the door shut behind them, Fors spun around and pressed her ear to it.
"Fors! What are you doing!" Xio whispered frantically, tugging her sleeve.
"Listening to what they're saying, of course," Fors replied matter-of-factly.
"But… isn't that wrong—"
"What's wrong with it? She mentioned the banquet the second she walked in—obviously here to poach. And aren't you curious—"
She paused, then added in a more provocative tone, "A young lady like that overlaps with your profile—Dance, Etiquette—if Scott picks her, what'll you do? Aren't you scared?"
Sounds like you're the scared one—Xio rolled her eyes but offered no further objection; after all, poaching was going too far, and she had once been a genuine noble young lady.
"So, what is it?"
"You know about the banquet, right?" Hazel drew a breath and reopened the topic.
"I do—a Charity Gala funded by Capin's estate. Why, do you want to be my Dance Partner?" Lorne shrugged, tone flat.
"Of course not—" Hazel blurted, then swallowed the rest.
She recalled the meaningful Talk her father had given her moments ago in the study, hinting she should discuss the banquet and the Fund more with her "boyfriend" Scott, even implying the Machts could "help" manage and operate said Fund.
She found it speechless: she had repeatedly told Father James Scott the bastard was not her boyfriend—why wouldn't he believe her? Secondly, she realized Father saw the Fund's political value and wanted to use it to extricate the Machts from their recent plight, yet she had no leverage—he still held compromising information on her.
"I—I'm just worried you lack experience and might make a fool of yourself at your first high-society event," Hazel said, turning her head to preserve the last shred of pride. "Backlund's upper circles are picky about details; if—if you beg me properly, I might condescend to teach you basic Etiquette and Dance."
"You're overthinking it." Lorne waved dismissively. "I've already found a suitable Teacher."
"Oh? Who?"
Lorne tilted his chin toward the door.
"Fors Wall?"
"No." He shook his head.
"It's Xio."
"Huh? That short girl." Hazel was surprised—Xio's stature seemed barely adequate; dancing with Lorne would require him to bend just to meet her eyes.
"Did you hear that, Xio? She's looking down on you," the Eavesdropping Fors fumed.
"Uh—" Xio drooped, unable to refute it.
Just talking Dance, the near-one-fifty—no, one-sixty—centimeter-tall her was no match for Miss Macht's height. A hardware issue.
"Xio has plenty of Social Experience—perfectly qualified as a Teacher. As for the banquet, I plan to take Fors," Lorne stated plainly.
"Unless you have a better suggestion."
"I—I could be your Dance Partner too," Hazel's voice dwindled.
"If I'm not mistaken, your father will also attend," Lorne noted, watching her reddening cheeks. "Appearing as my partner in public—aren't you afraid of the misunderstanding?"
"I—" Hazel faltered, then gave up. "The misunderstanding's already there."
"Oh?" Lorne raised an eyebrow playfully. "As Emperor Roselle said, 'Debts high, worries low'—" He let the words hang. "Or do you actually want something to happen between us?"
"My reputation's quite loud nowadays~"
"Won't you even consider it?"
"H-How could this happen? Scott's actually taking the initiative—how could he do that—" Outside the door, Fors pressed herself against the panel, stamping in frustration, fighting the urge to "open a door" and rush in for a front-row seat.
"What? Scott's taking the initiative—this, this—" Unable to contain her curiosity, Xio hurried to the other side of the door to eavesdrop.
"How could I possibly fancy you! I—" Hazel shot back with her habitual haughtiness, yet when she met Lorne's smiling eyes she flinched.
It reminded her of the day she'd been caught stealing; he'd worn the same all-seeing look.
"Alas—who knew your standards were so high? I thought the title hero of east borough carried enough weight." Lorne sighed, then changed tack.
"Still, I have another proposal—how would you like to work for me?"
"Work?" Hazel was bewildered; the leap in topics left her scrambling. "I'm not interested in arms or factory management."
"I mean Fund." Lorne clarified.
"You must have heard—the officials intend to place the Fund under my control."
Seeing her slight nod, Lorne went on, "I plan to add an investment of my own, increasing my share and say in the Fund, and to broaden its scope—no longer limited to the victims of the Capin case, but helping more women and children throughout Backlund who need aid."
"However," he spread his hands in helplessness, "I truly can't spare the time and energy to run it personally. Entrusting it entirely to outsiders makes me uneasy; after all, the interests and influence at stake are considerable."
"So, Miss Hazel, interested?"
"I—I don't want to work for you."
That was her honest thought. James Scott held leverage over her; the earlier investments and her father's help had been extracted under pressure. If she now volunteered to work for him, wasn't she walking straight into his grasp?
"Unwilling?"
"It's a cushy post." Lorne shrugged. "As I said, once you have a job you'll be an independent woman, free to choose your own life."
"Instead of ending like many pampered young ladies: well-fed and clothed, yet with every path mapped by the family, finally married off for profit to a man you don't love, becoming a seemingly glittering but hollow matron."
"No, Mum and Dad will respect my choice." Hazel countered.
"Will they?" Lorne asked meaningfully, meeting her eyes. "Then why are you here today—"
"I—I—" Hazel choked, cheeks flaming.
Today Father had indeed told her to come—but that was because he'd mistaken Lorne for her boyfriend and sent her to "communicate"!
She screamed it inwardly. Even if the family were in dire straits, Father would never make her curry favor with a man she disliked just for gain.
But the snag was that Councilor Macht saw Scott and Hazel as a "couple," or at least close friends, so dispatching his daughter to Talk seemed perfectly reasonable.
To Hazel, however, the misunderstanding trapped her in excruciating embarrassment. Admitting "Dad told me to find you, boyfriend" would make the scene unbearably awkward.
Yet staying silent felt like confirming Lorne's insinuation that she might lose control of her fate and end up a pawn in a family marriage.
"So, your coming today," Lorne said gently, probing, "was it truly to help me—as a friend?"
"Who's friends with you—" Hazel reflexively retorted, turning away, but her bravado had drained.
Just as I thought—reading her face, Lorne understood.
Councilor Macht must have scented the Fund's political value and sent Hazel to scout.
The man was a politician; Lorne never doubted his nose. Besides, Macht belonged to the more progressive New Party, whose platform leaned toward improving people's livelihood, making the worker-packed, worst-environment East Borough a key focus.
Lorne's reputation as hero of east borough, plus the Fund's nature, would inevitably sway the borough—exactly what Councilor Macht coveted.
"Working for a Charity Fund is a good deed for the people and earns you social standing so no one will look down on you—many birds with one stone." Lorne coaxed.
He didn't mind Macht wanting a share; they'd cooperated before and might need each other politically in future.
Yet letting the seasoned politician run it directly could upset the balance—Lorne doubted he'd have enough time or energy to keep him in check.
By contrast, putting the comparatively naive Hazel—whose secret he held— in charge of day-to-day operations was safer. For his daughter's future and the Fund's success, Councilor Macht would throw in full support and resources, achieving cooperation by proxy.
"I—" Hazel wavered; though Lorne's version differed from her father's, it sounded appealing—
"Details aren't finalized; there's bound to be haggling—this is only my preliminary idea—"
"You can go back and tell Councilor Macht, hear his thoughts before you decide."
As he spoke, Lorne rose, deliberately softening his steps as he moved to the office door.
Riiiip—he yanked the door inward!
"Ah—"
Outside, Xio and Fors, ears pressed to the panel, were caught off guard, shrieking as they toppled forward.
Lorne's arms shot out, catching them one in each hand and steadying them in a half-embrace. Looking down at the two flushed, panicked ladies, he curved a smile. "Ladies, Eavesdropping on business Talks isn't very ladylike, you know~"
"Ehehe—" Fors tried to play cute.
Xio's ears burned crimson; she buried her head, unable to speak.
After much persuasion Lorne finally sent the three young ladies off.
"Such a pain—"
He exhaled lengthily and slumped into his chair, exhausted. Lifting the lukewarm coffee, he took a sip.
"Forget it, I'll attend the soirée alone."
?!
His spiritual intuition tingled.
He turned toward the far corner; a figure in court dress materialized.
Sharon—doll-like, exquisite—looked down at him, her blue eyes holding something unusual.
"Miss Sharon, you haven't left?"
"You only told me to step aside." Sharon's voice was cool, betraying no emotion.
"Uh—so you've been here the whole time?"
She offered no answer, only stating flatly, "I also know Dance and Etiquette."
"Ah, then you could—"
Lorne hadn't finished when Sharon cut in.
"But I won't teach you."
With that, her figure turned transparent and vanished on the spot.
This time, nothing in the room sensed her presence anymore.