About Your Pride and My Prejudice

Chapter 2: Tobias Miller

Viola smiled and said,

Ill tell you about the method I used with Jacob.

What is it?

I asked in a low voice. Violas hazel eyes sparkled lively.

First, go in front of him and drop things.

What? What kind of confession is that?,

Mel, everything has its own order.

Her voice was so confident that I made up my mind to listen quietly. It was not the most reliable, but she did bring Jacob over to her side.

Besides, it was probably better advice than what my single past life could ever provide.

Listen. If a lady drops something, hell pick it up, right? Then, take it and tell him where youre going to be tomorrow. For example.,

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Ill be at Antris Coffee Shop throughout the afternoon tomorrow

All of a sudden?

Yes, thats what I said and wink!

Theld my breath because Viola closed and opened one of her eyes. It was ridiculous to see her eyelashes fluttering with her eyebrows raised all the way up.

Youre really bad at winking. You didnt do this to Jacob, did you?

I did! I heard its cute.

Im sure Jacob is a unique person.

Is this what love is? Shaking my head, I quickly continued to talk.

Anyway, isnt that way too old fashioned? Its a method my mother might have used

Why are classics loved, Mel?

I pictured it for a moment. What if I dropped something in front of Alan, who always had, this cold and indifferent face?

The odds, if not certainty, that Alan would pass by without looking at it, would be close to ninety-five percent. Theres no way that the ladies in the social circles havent used such a common method yet.

The other scenarios were equally hopeless. The remaining five percent would be the chance of him looking down at the object with contempt, then checking my face with that same look, and then walking past me.

I think the former would be better than the latter.

I muttered with a gloomy face.

I dont think thats going to work for sir Alan, Viola

Melissa.

Violas expression turned worried, perhaps because I looked pitiful. The way she pouted her lips as her forehead wrinkled made her look like a chubby duckling.

Yes?

What do you think, is it a good idea? Have you thought about it?

Hmm I think it might be better to write a letter

What?!

Viola jumped up as if it was absurd.

A letter? Isnt that even more boring and old-fashioned? What kind of man would like something like that nowadays?,

Why dont you just throw a handkerchief and wink?

But if its sir Alan

I went on, slowly meeting Violas gaze.

Think about it, Viola. Where is he from?

Hmm.

Alan Leopold did not appear in a single line of the original story, set in a quiet rural village. Nevertheless, he was more special than a male protagonist to me. Even the original male lead didnt cause this emotional whirlwind.

Its true that Alan had a beautiful appearance, enough to make someone fall in love at first sight, but if it were only that, I wouldnt have had a crush on him for that long. If it werent for his cold and lonely atmosphere, she wouldnt have felt this sorrowful feeling.

Its ironic that Alan, who shouldnt ever have lacked something, looked empty as if he was lacking something. Perhaps thats what stimulated womens psychology.

Always suppressing his presence. He would only appear in necessary instances and blend in with others seamlessly. His reticent personality might be the cause as to why he rarely shows emotion in his expression, but regardless he always shines. Helplessly and beautifully.

Who wouldnt love a man resembling a brilliant winter?

As if she was thinking the same as me, Viola muttered in a low voice.

Thats true. Sir Alan might be the only man in the capital who seems to prefer letters to winks.

Right?

First of all, I dont think winking is right but theres also no guarantee that the letter will

work.

When I smiled without realising it, Viola pinched my cheek without hurting and added,

But youre a good writer, Mel. You might be able to write a letter thatll melt sir Alans cold heart.

such optimistic words.

In my previous life, I liked reading books alone more than hanging out with people. Naturally, my hobby here is reading, too. As a result, was told by a tutor that I was talented in literature, and from some point on, I secretly developed my dream of becoming a writer.

Even if youre really talented?

Its impossible for a woman to become a writer in Sourne. Whats the point of being talented?

Viola was the only person who knew about my dream. My only supporters hazel eyes gleamed with passion today.

Oh! Impossible? The famous was also written by a female author. Its a masterpiece.

Thats an exception

Also, do you have something else youre good at? Youre going to write a wonderful love letter.

Seriously, she wont give me a moment to say anything negative. One of the few things that make my life special is that I, whos quiet and cautious, have been lucky enough to have the lively and cheerful Viola as my best friend.

Viola, who stretched out slowly, tapped my shoulder.

First, why dont you write down your favourite aspects of Sir Alan and write them in a poem? With your pretty handwriting.

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Hair that resembles the distant universe and eyes as clear as an early dawn sky.

Leopolds only successor, elegant speech, deep voice as if half submerged in water.

With a remarkably tall stature, always standing in an upright posture, and a beautiful figure as if drawn.

A person who seems to smell like a cool winter night when approaching.

A person, who is like a flower that blooms in the shade.

Thad scolded Viola asking if she wasnt being too idealistic, but as soon as I returned home, I grabbed a pen. Then, as if possessed, I began writing about him.

After rolling the tip of the pen on the paper for a while, I was startled and lost the pen as if waking up from a dream.

Oh my god.

The smell of rusted ink made me confused. With a look of disbelief, I looked at the myriad of handwritten letters. The paper, which had been white as snow, was full of my appreciation for Alan.

I couldnt believe I had been looking at him so attentively.

Melissa.

Argh!

Then, suddenly, the door opened revealing, Mrs. Kerney-the one who helps with the house chores-and I nearly fell off my chair.

Thurriedly hid the paper that was plastered, with praise for Alan between the pages of a book.

Sorry, did I scare you? Im here to change the bed sheets.

Mrs. Kerney, holding a thick duvet in her arms, smiled innocently. The air was definitely getting colder these days No, but Ive told you to knock!

But even before I said something, she quickly added,

Are you writing a letter?

Yes, No?

Seeing me with her eyes wide open, Mrs Kerney smiled as she showed her protruding front teeth.

..I was writing a diary.

Who writes a diary with that face?

My heart pounded. Could she see what I was thinking deep down?

What do you mean by that kind of face?

Isnt your face looking as if you were writing a very heartfelt letter?

Im just saying.

When I didnt answer, she rambled and peeled, off the thin bed sheet. I had no idea why I was acting like a criminal.

Excuse me, maam. You said you were just saying it, so please dont tell my mother.

Mrs. Kearney looked puzzled when I made a crawling voice.

Oh, I guess its not just a diary.

No, that kind of

Melissa, I just said that because you got a letter.

To sum up, it meant Mrs. Kearney had been teasing me. Such an exquisite timing.

Tanswered calmly,

What letter is it? Did you bring it?

No, Mrs. Collins is already opening it and reading it.

What

But what does this mean? This time it would, be good if she was fishing with me.

Why would my mom rip off the letter that came for me?

The sender must have a mans name. I thought spring had finally come for you, Melissa, because she was making such a fuss. Is it not? The person you are writing to right now

A mans name?

Those strange words made my eyes open wide. No wonder shes opening the letter, its because Melissa Collins has no male acquaintances. Of course, there couldnt have been a man who would send me a letter.

Mrs. Kerney shrugged while putting on a new bed cloth.

Go down there.

Her words lifted my body up like a magic spell. I just ran down the stairs.

In fact, when Mrs. Kearney brought up the topic of the letter, I was embarrassed to think of Alan. What I wrote about him without thinking, Mrs. Kearney, who came in at that moment, the sender of the letter being a man All of this felt like fate.

There are moments in life when you become obsessed with strange convictions. It may be a ridiculous delusion, but at least the feeling received was intense.

Intuition that the letter might have come from Alan Leopold.

Mom, the letter for me..

Oh, Melissa!

My mother ran to me with a delighted look. As Mrs. Kearney had said, there was a torn, envelope and a piece of paper in her hand. I tried to see the name written on the envelope, but it was obstructed by my mothers hand and thus invisible.

You said nothing happened at the charity

ball!

My mother suddenly hugged me, so I blinked blankly.

You dont know how worried I was about whether you were afraid of men and wouldnt be able to marry.

What.?

Apparently, someone who came to the ball sent me a letter. That alone was amazing enough, but if my mother was this happy then

While hugging me, I felt my heart pounding louder and louder. My intuition was right. The author definitely was Leopolds only successor, Al

But its a name Ive never heard of before.

an

I dont think shes hearing his name for the first time though, its strange.

How can you not know the name.

Tobias Miller? Do you know him?

T/N: Mrs. Kerney is a house worker not a maid, who lives with them, so she addresses Melissa in a more friendly way, its like they have lived together for a very long time, so workers often become a part of the family, I wont use the word maid but use madam.

Comments from korean readers:

No matter how much youre a family member, opening the letter without permission is a bitsigh.

I dont want my mom to open the letter first TT TT

The lady is pretty shameless?? 77

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