I'd already given plenty of thought to how I should explain my connection with Wolf.
I could simply tell the truth(ish) that my husband used to work for the Marquess. But that would be admitting my husband had done menial peasant work, which was obviously frowned upon by this crowd. It would also prompt some digging from bored and curious middle-aged women into Baron Jeremy Bernt's past, and that would lead to a whole mess of trouble.
So the answer I had prepared was a lot further from the truth but much safer.
"Oh is that the identity of the silver-haired man?" I gasped. "I'd never met him before in my life, but he seemed to have some kind of… hostility toward the Count. I'm afraid I was only caught in the middle."
I almost laughed out loud at the expressions around the table. I had just stirred up a ton of gossip, and probably a bit of trouble, for my lackey. (And the Count, which was only an added bonus.)
I could imagine the rumors already. Anything from sworn enemies to a scandalous love affair between the kingdom's two hottest men.
"Payback, Wolf," I whispered under my breath. "And you too, Count Graye."
After dropping that little bomb, I got to enjoy my tea and a few delicious desserts (though somewhat inferior to my darling Marissa's cookies) while the women eagerly tugged on their newfound chunk of meat.
"You know, I heard an interesting story about Count Graye and Marquess Wulfstan just the other day."
"Really? Do tell!"
"Well, it seems they were both seen entering a certain club in the entertainment district.. At different times of course, but the rumor is that at least for a while, they were in there together."
Of course Wolf had been there. That much of the story was absolutely true. After all, sketchy clubs in the entertainment district are a fantastic way to gather intel. And it's better suited for a man to do so than a woman in those types of places, so I always sent my lackey.
I wondered, however, if Count Graye had actually been at that club as well. Clearly he hadn't been at the same time as Wolf, or my dutiful lackey would have reported so to me. But if he'd been there at all, there was definitely a suspicious reason why.
Normal, respectable noblemen don't frequent those kinds of establishments. (Which honestly, there might not be a single man fitting that description in this whole blasted kingdom now that I think about it. Did I mention the bar is extremely low for men around here?)
"I also heard they had some kind of secret meetup during their school days. It was the talk of the academy for a while!" another woman eagerly spilled.
But I already knew that story wasn't true. Wolf was younger than Count Graye by about three years. They were never in the same school at the same time. And Wolf pretty much skipped all his school anyway. It's why I had to drag so many private tutors to the estate when I was his personal servant to make sure the picky brat at least learned something.
Still, the rest of the women thoroughly enjoyed the tale of Marquess Wulfstan and Count Graye's tryst at the academy as teenagers. More unbelievable stories began to flow after that, and I could no longer tell if this was a gossip party or fanfic extravaganza.
But, either way, it wasn't my problem.
And just picturing the look on their faces when the subjects of those stories caught wind of them was golden entertainment for me.
After a flurry of fairytales and a few tidbits of legitimate gossip, the party began to wind down. While it had been fun and all, I was ready to peel the fake smile off my face and inspect all of Marissa's notes. (No doubt, they had declined in quality during the latter half of the party when all the gossip devolved into Count x Marquess fan fiction. But the first half should still have a few gems.)
I was hastily-yet-politely making my way to the rented carriage waiting for me, when a woman stopped me.
"Excuse me, Madam Bernt."
My cheeks begged for release as I forced them into another smile. I turned around to see a maid standing behind me. She was middle-aged and average looking, but I recognized her as the servant who attended with Madam Macaron.
"My Lady wishes to speak with you for a moment," the maid explained, gesturing to a carriage farther down the line. It was a deep mahogany color with gold embellishments. Something that really screamed "nueva rich" but still tasteful.
"Of course." I nodded and followed the maid to the mahogany carriage, exchanging a quick glance with Marissa. She gave me a subtle thumbs up.
When I reached the carriage, I found the door open and Madam Macaron seated inside. She looked down on me from her great perch as I stood just in front of the steps.
"Greetings Madam, you wished to speak with me?" I curtseyed.
"That's right," Madam Macaron nodded. "But not here. Please come see me at my husband's dessert shop, Sweet Heaven, in three days at exactly 4 o'clock."
Wow. Was it really this easy?
"Of course Madam," I was no longer forcing myself to smile; it was entirely authentic now. I'd expected to perhaps peak her interest, but never guessed she'd already be inviting me to chat with her personally.
At the exact place Count Graye had a dubious connection to, nonetheless.
"I'm glad you understand. I will see you then," Madam Macaron nodded and then turned away from me to signal the conversation's end.
I could hardly contain myself as I climbed into my carriage alongside Marissa.
"I'm assuming you have good news," she observed nonchalantly as she pulled out her notebook and offered it to me.
"Excellent news, actually," I replied, eagerly taking the book. "Madam Macaron has set up a personal meeting with me at Sweet Heaven."
"Your skills never cease to amaze me, Miss Opal. Congratulations," Marissa nodded. (Not quite the enthusiastic reaction I wanted, but I think we're all well aware by now that my dear maid hardly shows excitement outside of anything related to money.)
"Hopefully this will get things with the Count Graye case moving again." I opened the notebook to the tea party notes. "Now, let's see what you have for m-Oh my!"
My eyes lit up as I skimmed through Marissa's notes. She had fetched quite a few juicy tidbits of information. There was something about Count Carmichael the famously infallible Viscount Tudor, and even the Crown Prince!
Note to self: burn notebook page after transferring useful information to prevent possibly being arrested for treason.
All in all, the tea party was a resounding success. And after the many failures and low payoffs I'd had lately with my schemes, I'd say (or, more accurately, as Wolf would say) it's about f[omitted]g time!