Chapter 102

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 102
Chapter Title: The Hunting Party (5)
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As twilight fell, the men who had gone hunting returned to the manor, each with their own catch.

Having changed into tuxedos and evening gowns, the ladies and gentlemen gathered in the drawing room after a splendid dinner. They gathered in small groups, chatting, sipping wine, and enjoying a leisurely evening of card games and piano music.

Miss Lance was seated in a corner.

Her friends had retired to the billiard room for some family bonding, leaving her alone. Normally, being left alone in such a setting would have been unbearable, but at this moment, she quite welcomed her solitude.

Ever since leaving the long gallery, her friends had begun to seriously suspect something between the two of them. If any feelings had started to blossom between Mr. Dalton and Miss Pendleton, it would be a true disaster. It would mean their friend was losing her prospective husband to a common old maid of illegitimate birth.

Miss Lance had coldly dismissed her two friends' worries and forbade them from speaking of it. The two young ladies had obeyed their queen's command, but Miss Lance knew. She knew that right now, they were likely pacing around the billiard table, cues in hand, thoughtlessly chattering away with all the speculations they had held back in her presence.

Seated in a secluded spot behind a drapery, Miss Lance leaned deeper into the sofa. And she stared intently at the woman she had been watching for some time.

Miss Pendleton was wearing a blue evening gown. It was a light and pure garment, as if a piece of the autumn sky had been cut and sewn into fabric. Large sapphire earrings adorned her ears, and a diamond bracelet sparkled on her wrist.

She spoke with a relaxed air to those who approached her with smiling faces, while occasionally glancing around the drawing room. Checking if the wine was running low, if anyone seemed bored, or if the servants were performing their duties well.

Miss Lance turned her gaze to a gentleman standing by the drawing room window. A man in a tuxedo, leaning against the wall, surrounded by young gentlemen. Her prince, Ian Dalton, whom she had dreamed of reuniting with for months.

As he conversed with the gentlemen, he would occasionally glance across the room.

Toward Miss Pendleton, who stood with her back to him. Each time he looked at her, a faint smile touched his lips.

Miss Lance's heart sank lower and lower.

Soon, Miss Pendleton excused herself from her conversation and approached the servants. She quickly gave them some instructions. The servants curtsied slightly and immediately exited. Before long, a makeshift stage was set up in the drawing room.

The guests, who had grown a bit weary of the long, uneventful evening, gathered around the stage. A game of charades soon began.

Miss Lance lowered her eyes. Everything was fueling a strong conviction in her mind. Miss Pendleton was acting as the mistress of this house. And that authority must have been delegated to her by Mr. Dalton. Along with his mother's dress.

‘How?’

Miss Lance had a general idea of their relationship. There had been circumstances suggesting their friendship had blossomed into affection. But when Miss Pendleton's birth was revealed, Mr. Dalton had forsaken her.

Afterward, Miss Pendleton was cast out of her family and was soon hired as a governess for the Fairfax family. Upon hearing that rumor, Miss Lance had assumed Mr. Dalton arranged the position out of guilt for the woman he had abandoned. It was an act befitting of Mr. Dalton, with his noble and warm heart.

But now, Miss Pendleton was wearing Mr. Dalton's mother's dress and lavish jewelry, playing the part of hostess in his home. Miss Lance struggled to make sense of the situation.

Perhaps he had simply asked for her help in entertaining the guests. Ah, but if that were the case, he should have had her assist only with the preparations, befitting her station, not brought her out to an event like this.

Was it because she was the daughter of his childhood mentor that he wanted to show her favor? Then Miss Pendleton herself should have refused. No matter their past connection, it was senseless for her to dress up so finely and play the hostess at an event so far above her station.

Observing Miss Pendleton's natural demeanor, Miss Lance suspected a certain confidence hidden within it. That suspicion, colluding with jealousy, produced a startling deduction.

‘Could it be… could it be that Miss Pendleton has become Mr. Dalton's mistress?’

It was certainly possible. Such things happened from time to time in London society. Noble gentlemen would often bring their mistresses into society with confidence, even inviting friends to the homes they set up for them and having the mistress play the hostess. It was an immoral affair, but since it was so often committed by those of high station, people had come to accept it as a matter of course.

‘Surely not Mr. Dalton and Miss Pendleton! A man as noble and gentlemanly as Mr. Dalton, and a woman as good and proper as Miss Pendleton, how could they do such a thing…!’

Miss Lance tried to deny it, but she could find no other rational explanation. The idea of a man like Mr. Dalton intending to make Miss Pendleton his lawful wife was simply unthinkable within her frame of mind.

‘Oh, to think Mr. Dalton was such a libertine. He must have taken advantage of Miss Pendleton's desperate situation to toy with her. He doesn't want to marry her, but he desires her body… and so he led her to his bedchamber…!’

Miss Lance felt utterly horrified. Despair, along with a fierce jealousy, seemed to burn in her chest.

Her illusion of Mr. Dalton shattered just a little. He was an immoral man. A man who had done something a gentleman should never do.

And yet, Miss Lance's resentment kept turning toward Miss Pendleton.

Miss Lance glared at Miss Pendleton, who was smiling as she watched the game of charades unfolding on stage.

‘How could a woman who knows the ways of the world fall into such a trap? How could she crumble so helplessly before Mr. Dalton's temptation? Doesn't she know that in these situations, the woman always suffers the greater loss?’

Miss Lance's chest tightened with a sense of patheticness and contempt.

‘Did he promise to marry her? Or perhaps promise to support her financially, even if they were only lovers? Whatever his temptation, Miss Pendleton should not have yielded. The moment he made his move, she should have packed her bags and left. For someone who was once called a lady to engage in such a debauched relationship… Her reputation as a woman is now ruined!’

Miss Lance thought of Miss Pendleton's mother. The tragic daughter of a count who left home at seventeen, gave birth out of wedlock, and died. What a cruel fate. Her daughter was now set to repeat her life.

‘Oh, what if she becomes pregnant!’

The thought sent a chill down Miss Lance's spine. She might even end up raising Miss Pendleton's illegitimate child herself!

This, too, was something that happened from time to time in society. A lawful wife taking in and raising the child born to her husband's mistress. While it was the custom in these circles to praise such a wife for her great virtue, no woman wished to display her merits in such a manner. Her husband's bastard child… honestly, it was a loathsome creature she would gladly drown.

Miss Lance's suspicious eyes darted to Miss Pendleton's stomach. Her waistline was still slender and graceful, but for all she knew, Mr. Dalton's child could already be growing within her.

‘No. Absolutely not.’

Miss Lance clenched her fists. For the sake of a stable married life with Mr. Dalton, she had to intervene in their relationship. She had to put a stop to this immoral affair and make them go their separate ways.

If Mr. Dalton would just propose to her soon, she could confidently issue a warning to Miss Pendleton, but for now, her position was ambiguous. Besides, Miss Pendleton was under the protection of a powerful Yorkshire family, which made her hesitant to act rashly.

After a moment's thought, Miss Lance decided to handle the matter in the same way Miss Pendleton had once advised her. By pointing out her indiscretion through subtle insinuation.

As the night deepened, the guests began to depart. Mr. Dalton approached Miss Pendleton, and they began to converse.

Miss Lance rose from the sofa and walked toward them.

As she drew near, she could hear them whispering softly. They were discussing the schedule for the next day. The sight of the two of them standing face to face, looking so well-suited, made Miss Lance's blood boil.

At the sound of Miss Lance's approach, the pair stopped talking.

“Miss Lance. It has been a long time. We haven't had a proper chance to speak today.”

Miss Pendleton inquired gently. Miss Lance responded with mechanical politeness. Inside, she was seething with anger, but she couldn't let it show. Especially not in front of Mr. Dalton.

“Miss Pendleton—no, Miss Sheldon—it is so good to see you after all this time. Shall we catch up for a bit on the veranda while we watch the stars?”

Miss Pendleton seemed puzzled. The two of them were not on such terms as to make special time for a private chat unless there was a specific reason. But she readily nodded.

“Well then, I shall see you tomorrow. I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

Mr. Dalton, taking the hint, gave a polite bow and left the drawing room.

The two women walked toward the open veranda.

In the cool early autumn air, both ladies hunched their shoulders. Their gowns, which left their shoulders and upper chests bare, exposed their skin to the night air.

Miss Pendleton asked her to wait a moment and excused herself. When she returned, she was holding two cozy-looking shawls.

“I had these prepared in case any of the ladies felt a chill. Please, take one if you'd like, Miss Lance.”

The contempt in Miss Lance's eyes lessened. Miss Pendleton was a good person. She had been in London, and she was here.

Perhaps her downfall was due to this very kindness. She might have felt too guilty to refuse Mr. Dalton's desires and allowed herself to be swept away by him.

Miss Lance began to speak in a much softer tone than she had intended.

“I was so surprised when you suddenly disappeared from London. To leave without a word of farewell... it was truly heartless of you.”

“Please forgive me. Things were moving so quickly that I had no time to consider those around me.”

“How do you find life here?”

A sincere account of her life in the countryside followed. But Miss Lance was determined to read between the lines, convinced that a romance with Mr. Dalton was woven into the fabric of her daily life.