Chapter 1085

Marjorie had been standing quietly outside the courtyard. Seeing Carissa emerge, she curtsied respectfully and escorted her to the gate. She had overheard their conversation.

“How is the girl doing now?” Marjorie asked softly as they walked.

“She’s staying at the workshop,” Carissa replied with a sigh. “But she hasn’t abandoned her suicidal intentions.”

Marjorie fell silent for a moment before murmuring, “What a tragedy.”

At the gate, she paused, adding, “If I can assist the girl in any way, please do not hesitate to ask, Your Grace.”

Carissa inclined her head. “Thank you, Madam Marjorie. I will remember that.”

Marjorie curtsied again, watching as Carissa mounted her horse and rode away. She remained at the gate for a long time, lost in thought, until Trey’s parents approached, falling to their knees and pleading, “Please, my lady, summon a physician to save Trey!”

Marjorie’s expression hardened. “Ask Lord Quinton. This is beyond my authority.”

Trey’s mother clutched Marjorie’s skirt, begging, “My lady, have mercy! Trey is our only son! Our family line will end!”

A flicker of anger crossed Marjorie’s eyes. “He brought this upon himself. Who else is to blame?”

She freed her skirt from the woman’s grasp and turned to leave, ignoring their cries. On her way back, feeling lightheaded, she leaned on her maid, Thea, for support.

“Madam Marjorie, will you truly leave it thus? What if the servants become disloyal?” Thea asked hesitantly, finding the situation perplexing.

Marjorie was known for her fairness and kindness towards the household staff. This stemmed partly from her gentle nature, but also from pragmatism—she understood the danger of alienating the estate's long-term servants, who could easily damage the Quinton family's reputation if they turned against them.

Under normal circumstances, Marjorie would have balanced punishment with mercy. Now, however, she cared little, despite Trey and his parents' long tenure and access to information that could be used against the Quintons.

This time, Marjorie simply frowned and shook her head. “I cannot involve myself. How could I justify it to that young lady?”

Thea tried again, cautiously saying, “But that young lady’s father intended to offer her to Lord Quinton. He refused, but eventually, she would have been given to another. She is merely… an object to be used.”

“Be quiet!” Marjorie snapped, her voice sharp. “The Whitley family’s choices are none of our concern. Trey wronged Ms. Whitley, and that is a fact. Why speculate? What matters is the present. You call her an object—what of you? You are a woman too. How dare you speak such cold, heartless words?”

Seeing Marjorie’s anger, Thea fell silent.

Marjorie’s heart sank. It was a painful truth—men often viewed women as objects, and sometimes, women did the same to each other.

That same day, Violet infiltrated the Whitley family residence at night. She had imagined a cruel man to have a cunning, deceitful face, or at least be ugly. Douglas, however, appeared honest and sincere.

His complexion was fair, his round eyes gleaming with an innocent brightness. Upon Violet’s entrance, clad in black, his eyes showed surprise, making him seem utterly guileless.

For a moment, Violet doubted her target. Only a concubine’s shriek confirmed his identity: Douglas, the man who had exploited his daughter.

Still, she asked, “Are you Douglas Whitley?”

At the sight of her gleaming sword, Douglas’s expression shifted to fear.

“Guards! An assassin!” he screamed.

Violet acted swiftly. She kicked him hard in the stomach, sending him crashing to the ground. She leaped, her foot landing with a sickening snap on his lower leg.

His cries echoed, loud and desperate. As she stomped on his back, breaking his spine, a twisted sense of satisfaction washed over her. The concubine cowered on the bed. The guards? Already dealt with. None would come.

Violet’s assault was brutal. She targeted his limbs, his back, then, finally, his innocent-looking face, landing more than a dozen blows. Blood poured from his mouth; soon, he was dizzy and unconscious.

Only then did Violet deliver a final, contemptuous kick to the head before leaving.

Chapter 1086