Chapter 68 – Miss Jade Back to Work
Everything went back to normal after Jade’s two days off.
She resumed her class and tuition sessions. Her students grumbled about how strict Mother Annie was, but none of them noticed she was facing an internal problem. They simply assumed she had been tired or unwell from overworking – which, to be fair, was true. Even the students had noticed how busy she’d been, and she somehow, miraculously, one step slower than the others in realising that she was, in fact, exhausted, both mentally and physically.
Clara, now steadily in charge of the needle project, guided the girls with confidence. Under her lead, they worked perfectly in creating the screen and other embroidery pieces with growing efficiency. Every stitch was precise and without hesitation.
Mrs. Whitcombe, perhaps finally past her deepest moment of grief, or perhaps – as Jade had suspected, though Clara never admitted it – pushed by Clara to leave her room, had begun attending the tuition session. She helped oversee the students’ aesthetic choices, providing the fashion and artistic sense they lacked when creating the art pieces and accessories.
Jade was genuinely grateful for that.
Despite her delicate, seemingly easily fainted, and dramatic appearance, Mrs. Whitcombe did not command her students to obey her words. Instead, she advised them gently and made an effort to adapt to the tuition class’s overall aesthetic, which was largely shaped by Jade’s own preferences. Back in her previous life as a cake decorator, Jade had developed a distinct style that kept customers coming back. To her surprise, Clara’s mother possessed a strong sense of artistic taste as well.
Jade observed her performance subtly; watching the students create these pieces seemed to somehow ease her lingering gloom. She smiled faintly once in a while – a drastic contrast to her weeping over the tear bottles.
Josh, on the other hand, stayed in the bakehouse, practically assisting Sister Miriam in managing it while Jade was away. With Mrs. Whitcombe helping in the tuition class, Jade finally had time to spare an hour or two in teaching him piping technique, and even how to shape decorative pie crusts.
Yup, I’m definitely a lot happier when I deal with cakes and all. Jade mused as she closed the oven door. Noticing the difference in her own feelings, she gained a clearer impression on how depressed she had been before.
Since then, the pies served in the dining hall and those sold by the newsboys occasionally looked noticeably better than usual. The same had happened back when they were still selling biscuits before winter arrived. Every now and then, someone ended up with a piece that looked just a bit more refined, more delicate than the rest.
Neither Jade nor Josh paid much attention to it, because to them, these were all practice pieces. But some students and customers began to treat it as a sign of good luck. Over time, this even turned into a small tradition long after Jade and Josh had left the domus. The Sisters in the bakehouse would occasionally put extra care into a few random biscuits or pies and distribute them without saying anything. Whoever got one would take it as a good omen for the day.
But that was a side story Jade herself perhaps may never have noticed, even if she were to hear of the tradition several years later.
Back to the present, Jade was in the middle of a tuition session when she was summoned – once again – to Father Rochester’s study. And, once again, Mr. Trent was there.
“Fear not, Miss Jade,” Mr. Trent said.
Jade paused for a second, unsure if Mr. Trent was actually being humourous or if she had simply mistaken the words again; no one could tell what Mr. Trent was thinking based on his stoic face.
He continued, “I came for the latest news about the charity bazaar. Miss Fairborne had also expressed a strong wish to meet you in person, regardless of whether you are providing the refreshments she had intended to order.”
“Miss Fairborne?” Jade put Mr. Trent’s questionable joke aside and frowned slightly. The last time, she had been too focused on the sudden cake order to think much about it. Now that her mind was clearer, the name stood out. Who was this Miss Fairborne?
“She is the ward of the Dowager Countess of Canareith,” Mr. Trent replied. “And it was she who recommended you, Miss Jade, to oversee the refreshments.”
Jade could not recall ever meeting this Miss Fairborne, aside from hearing her name once before, and now again. She glanced at Mr. Trent and asked, “Why did she pick me for the order in the first place?”
Mr. Trent regarded her with a mild gaze. “It appears, Miss Jade, that you truly have no notion of how well-known you have become among the common folk in this district.”
Okay, I know I’m kinda famous now, so? Jade still couldn’t quite follow. “... And how does that connect to her knowing me?”
“Your name, and the school’s name, appeared first on the list of the stallholders, even before any formal advertisement,” Mr. Trent explained. “It’s quite natural for Miss Fairborne to scout around in learning more about you. And I trust that she was acting out of good intentions in commissioning you for the refreshments to offer you a respectable income – perhaps as a way to support your good work.”
“... She could have just donated money,” Jade muttered under her breath. “Would’ve saved everyone the extra steps.”
“It is a far better offer, as it gives you the opportunity to promote your skill, Miss Jade,” Father Rochester added gently. “By allowing the public to know your work, she grants you more opportunities for future commissions, benefiting both yourself and the school. Miss Fairborne is, I must say, a rather thoughtful young lady – far more so than many who donated indiscriminately, offering items the poor cannot even use.”
“Oh…” Jade slowly processed the explanation.
It was like back in her previous life, where the bakery she worked at had a social media account. The customer – in this case, this unknown Miss Fairborne – custom ordered a cake for a huge event, and specifically requested her as the person in charge. She would make it, pictures would be taken, guests would share it, and more people would learn about her. In the end, she and the bakery would gain recognition. It was basically exposure marketing – not by the bakery, but by the customer.
A very considerate and massive favour indeed.
Jade tightened her lips and let out a small sigh. If she hadn’t been so close to mental breakdown, she would have grabbed the opportunity without hesitation. But right now? Nope. No more extra work for her while she was still teaching. Her current mental state simply could not handle it.
Mr. Trent then showed her a page from the newspaper he had brought with him. It was an advertisement for the bazaar.
CHARITY BAZAAR, UNDER THE PATRONAGE OF
HER LADYSHIP, THE DOWAGER COUNTESS OF CANAREITH
Her Ladyship announces that a Three-Day Charity Bazaar will be held at The Silver Acorn, the distinguished clubhouse of the House of Wexleigh, on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, the 2nd–4th of April.
The Bazaar will open each day at ten o’clock in the morning.
On Sunday, trading shall conclude at three o’clock, in anticipation of the Evening Auction, to be held at seven o’clock.
Exhibitors are invited to submit their finest piece for consideration on the Auction Platform. Each article must be accompanied by a base price proposed by the contributor. Guests wishing to attend the Auction and participate in the bidding may register their names in advance and will receive an invitation card.
Applications for stalls, auction submissions, and auction attendance may be made to the Secretary of The Silver Acorn, who has been appointed to manage all administrative particulars on behalf of Her Ladyship.
All proceeds shall be devoted to the Poor Relief Fund, and the Fund shall be released to a list of registered charity units. The list is open for inspection and suggestion.
The patronage of the public is respectfully solicited.
This advertisement filled a full quarter of the page – larger than any ad Jade had seen in the newspapers she’d read so far.
Early April… I remember the Queen’s Spring Ball was in mid-March. So this bazaar is about two weeks after the Ball? Just as she was about to comment, her eyes drifted to the name of the paper printed at the top: The Quinark Gazette.
For a split second, she thought, Hey, this name sounds familiar.
Then it clicked. Wait–isn’t that the name of the TRPG they’ve been playing?!
She snatched up the newspaper again and quickly scanned the front page. There was no mistake. The articles – or rather, the stories – printed in the paper were all related to the TRPG setting. Some were even clearly based on the draft materials she had given to Mr. Rich Sponsor!
“Um, Mr. Trent,” Jade asked carefully. “Does Lord Ashborne have anything to do with this newspaper?”
Mr. Trent lifted a brow slightly before replying, “My Lord has taken a deep interest in this storytelling game. Through it, he has become acquainted with various groups of story tellers and has greatly expanded his social circle. In time, he came to wish to share the tales he found most engaging. Acquiring a publishing house within the city seemed a sound investment toward that end.”
… Mr. Rich Sponsor bought an entire newspaper publisher? Just to print the stories he commissioned?! Jade stared at him, genuinely stunned.
Well, she had already expected that wouldn’t understand what plays in rich people’s minds, but buying an entire publisher just out of interest was totally out of her expectation. Seriously, wouldn’t he go bankrupt for throwing money around like this?
“Actually,” Mr. Trent said, “after taking your advice to heart, Miss Jade, my Lord had rarely made unsuccessful investments. As such, he finds himself with more than enough to invest, and owning a newspaper does not appear to be a poor decision.”
The secretary’s reply startled Jade at first. It took her a few seconds to realise she had muttered her thoughts aloud. Fortunately, Mr. Secretary didn’t seem offended and answered her calmly.
“Do people actually buy this?” she asked, curiosity taking over. “I mean, it’s mostly stories and some local, funny news. Don’t people buy newspapers for actual news?”
Father Rochester chuckled softly. “My, Miss Jade, gentlemen do take an interest in current affairs, certainly. But many ladies do not – and even among men, there are those who prefer a lighter read, something to distract them from the troubles of the world while they remain indoors. I would say Lord Ashborne has made a rather successful investment.”
Mr. Trent added, more practically, “This newspaper was originally intended as a weekly publication. However, demand has been strong, and readers have asked for more frequent issues. It is now printed twice a week. The only limitation lies with the writers, who cannot sustain a daily schedule.”
“...huh.” Jade blinked, unsure what to say, as this was completely outside her expectations. She shook her head and steered the conversation back. “Anyway – about the bazaar. Other than the space they’re giving us, what else should we consider when we’re selling? Can I bring some of my students to help serve customers? I mean, a few of them want to go into service, so I was thinking this could be good practice…”
They continued refining the details, Jade contributed her idea, while Father Rochester, a far more experienced person with charity bazaars and fundraising events, offered his perspective. What had already been a solid plan gradually became more complete.
“Oh, yeah, where’s Milord?” Jade asked once they finished. “He came last time just to check on me. I thought he’d drop by again for a chat.” Like how he usually was, kinda nosy for someone of his status. She noted mentally.
“He has been… rather occupied, calling upon acquaintances and expanding his connections,” Mr. Trent replied. Such letter-writing matters did not usually require his presence, as he was assigned to assist the Dowager Countess in handling the charity bazaars’ affair – in which she had her ward, Miss Fairborne, involved as well – and he did not know the full details. Still, he had a fair idea why his employer had taken such an interest of late – most likely the young teacher sitting before her had casually mentioned something that most would consider bold and bizarre, but his employer was very interested in.
“Huh.” Jade frowned slightly, muttered mostly to herself. “He doesn’t seem like someone who really cares about public health. I thought he’d just send out some letters, get rid of the prototype he had, and go back to his TR–I mean, his storytelling game.”
If he truly cared, wouldn’t he invest in hospitals or clinics? Or support the development of medicine? Instead, he had only started getting involved after she had rambled on it.
Mr. Trent remained silent. The topic had drifted beyond casual conversation and into speculation – something a proper secretary would not engage in.
Father Rochester, however, spoke. “Lord Ashborne had always had a charitable heart. I believe he inherited it from his mother – the late Countess of Wexleigh. She cared deeply for the sick, the weak, and the poor. Perhaps he simply did not know how to best act upon it, beyond making donations to institutions such as ours.” He paused, then added gently, “Until you came along, Miss Jade. You may have shown him a path he understands.”
“...huh.” Jade was unsure how to respond.
“Well… I guess it’s a good thing he has the means to actually do something about it.” She smacked her lips lightly. “I pray he lives long and stays happy. As someone benefiting from his kindness, all I can really do is say thank you, and appreciate it.”
Even though he’s a bit nosy… and kinda adorably dumb sometimes, she added in her head. Still, he was genuinely kind. A rare sort among nobles who cared only for power, benefits, and status.
“I shall convey your sincere sentiments to my Lord, Miss Jade,” Mr. Trent said. There was the faintest shift in his expression, just enough to suggest he might be amused. Perhaps beneath that composed exterior, he was as likely to ramble about his boss as Jade was.