Chapter 106

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 106
Chapter Title: The Worst Night (1)
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“Oh, I’m not sure… I don’t believe I’ve seen him today.”

“If you see him, please be sure to send him this way.”

“Daisy, just leave it! I said I’ll handle it!”

Miss Lance snapped irritably. Mr. Fairfax blinked.

‘What was that?’

“Brother, I’m thirsty. Could you get me a glass of lemonade?”

“Of course. Now, ladies, is there anything I can get for you?”

The ladies giggled at Mr. Fairfax's charming demeanor.

“In that case, I’ll have a white wine.”

“And I, a plate of panini!”

Like a waiter, he took the ladies' orders and walked toward the dessert table.

As he picked up a tray from a servant and gathered the ladies' orders, he overheard two ladies chatting from behind the drapes near the table.

“Do you suppose Miss Lance is truly engaged?”

“If she were, shouldn’t they announce it tonight?”

Mr. Fairfax had no penchant for eavesdropping on others' gossip. He quickened his pace, moving the food to leave swiftly.

“What better time is there? They'll probably make a grand announcement at the height of the ball.”

“It'll be quite the spectacle. I'm not leaving the ballroom for the lounge, that's for sure.”

‘Hmm, must hurry. Hurry.’

He hastily scooped the panini onto a plate.

After a final check to ensure he hadn't missed any of the orders, he picked up the tray and turned to leave. But the hushed voice of one of the ladies stopped him in his tracks.

“But you know, I'm not so sure Mr. Dalton truly fancies Miss Lance. For the past week, she's been the one clinging to him, while he seems to have his mind elsewhere entirely.”

And the words that followed made Mr. Fairfax freeze on the spot.

“In any case, it’s a good thing Miss Lance will become the mistress here. She'll surely host balls at Whitefield Hall often.”

“That's right. She might even open it to tourists.”

The ladies continued to murmur amongst themselves. Mr. Fairfax felt no need to hear more. He had already heard enough to make his blood run cold.

‘Ian is the fiancé in the rumors about Miss Lance? What nonsense is this? That fellow is busy chasing after Miss Pendleton's coattails!’

He hurried back to Miss Lance's group. They greeted the tray-bearing Mr. Fairfax warmly.

Mr. Fairfax distributed the food to the ladies. Then, saying he had something to discuss with his sister, he led her away from the group.

Finding a place for a private conversation was no easy task. He ended up leaving the ballroom and taking his sister upstairs.

He asked in a low voice.

“Janet, the rumored beau of Miss Lance. Is it… Ian?”

Janet, who was dabbing her sweaty forehead with a handkerchief after circling the ballroom, laughed without a care.

“Brother, you're only just finding out?”

“…”

“I never thought Ian would keep it a secret even from you, William! How disloyal of him! He must have promised Miss Lance to keep it under wraps, right?”

“Janet.”

“Yes?”

“That rumor… how many people know about it?”

“I already told you. Everyone in London!”

The color drained from Mr. Fairfax's face.

***

“Hmm, Dora, I think we should go find Mr. Dalton.”

Miss Orson said, fanning the nape of her neck.

“There are so many people, it seems he can't find you.”

Miss Lance replied primly.

“How can a lady be the first to seek out a gentleman?”

“Still, isn't it a lady's virtue to give a gentleman an opportunity? The gentleman she fancies, that is.”

Miss Lance shook her head.

“Then shall we go look for him? If we tell Mr. Dalton where you are, it'll be easier for him to find you.”

Miss Wilkes chimed in.

“Yes, let's. After tonight, it will be even harder for him to muster the courage than it has been. He hasn't had a chance to confess these past few days, has he? There was never a moment for you two to be alone.”

Miss Donovan agreed.

“That's right. We should have been more tactful and left you two alone. Still, the waltz is a dance for two, so he'll surely seize the opportunity then.”

Miss Lance said nothing. It was tacit approval. The ladies told Miss Lance they would be sure to find Mr. Dalton and bring him to her, then moved away.

Miss Lance sipped her cold white wine and checked her appearance once more. Her heart was pounding even faster, perhaps due to the alcohol.

For the past few days, Mr. Dalton had often gazed at her with a vacant, dazed look in his eyes. It was a look of someone intoxicated by her beauty.

‘It will likely be tonight.’

The ball at Whitefield Hall, a romantic waltz, and herself, dressed to perfection. There could be no more perfect setting for a proposal.

She waited for Mr. Dalton to emerge from the crowd. In the meantime, the cotillion ended, and it was time for the country dance.

First, she was to dance with Mr. Fairfax. She waited for him. However, he was nowhere to be seen, even as the music began.

Miss Lance felt a flicker of displeasure but quickly shook her head.

‘He is not the sort of man to stand up a lady without reason. Something important must have come up. In any case, I wonder when Mr. Dalton will arrive. The waltz is right after the country dance.’

The country dance ended. The ladies and gentlemen who had enjoyed the lively time exited the dance floor. Soon, the waltz began, and then it ended. The quadrille and another cotillion followed.

In between, she received several requests to dance, but Miss Lance refused them all, waiting only for Mr. Dalton.

After an hour had passed, she began to grow anxious.

‘This won't do. I'll have to go look for him myself.’

She lifted the hem of her skirt slightly and moved forward slowly.

The crowd was too dense. With every step, she bumped into someone's shoulder or had the hem of her dress stepped on.

‘Where could you have gone, Mr. Dalton, leaving me in a place like this?’

Miss Lance felt a surge of irritation. Come to think of it, he had left her alone in the ballroom. He had never once asked her for a waltz, the dance known as the dance of lovers.

She had always hoped and waited.

‘Mr. Dalton, where are you? Surely, you won't disappoint me this time as well, will you?’

But then, as Miss Lance pressed forward, a flushed, intoxicated middle-aged gentleman appeared abruptly before her. He stared at her with dazed eyes, then bowed his head as if to greet her.

‘Do I know him?’

Miss Lance prepared to curtsy out of politeness. At that moment—

“Urgh!”

“Agh!”

The gentleman's vomit splattered onto the hem of Miss Lance's dress.

The people nearby turned toward Miss Lance and gasped in horror.

Miss Lance's face turned as red as a tomato. She shoved aside the still-retching gentleman and ran forward. The ladies and gentlemen hastily made way, afraid of getting soiled.

She burst out of the ballroom and hurried down the stairs. Once outside, she looked around. No one was there.

Miss Lance looked down at the hem of her skirt. A foul stain, a mixture of wine and shrimp, disgustingly adorned her milky-white silk dress with its fine lace.

‘Tonight is ruined! This expensive dress I pestered Mother for! I didn't even get to show it to Mr. Dalton! The ball is over for me!’

She couldn't stand how pathetic she looked. She resented Mr. Dalton for leaving her alone, and she was devastated that her hopes had been dashed once again.

Unable to hold it in, she burst into tears.

She could feel the passing servants and workers glancing at her, but she paid them no mind and sobbed her heart out.

Then, someone took her by the shoulder.

“Miss Lance?”

She lowered the hands that covered her face. Before her stood Miss Pendleton.

“Why are you crying?”

Miss Lance quickly scrubbed at her face. The humiliation and dismay were making her feel faint. To be seen in such a wretched state by the lady who might be Mr. Dalton's mistress (no, who was *definitely* his mistress)…

Miss Pendleton saw the colorful stain decorating her skirt. Her brow furrowed slightly, but her expression quickly returned to its usual composure.

“It seems someone has been very rude to you, Miss Lance.”

Miss Lance sniffled.

“I want to… go back to my room.”

“The ball isn't even halfway over. There will be fireworks later. Aren't you looking forward to them?”

“But in this dress… in this state…”

“You can simply change. You brought many evening gowns, did you not?”

“None of them are as beautiful as this one. And besides, my face is a mess! How can I go back like this!”

Miss Lance shrieked and began to cry again.

Miss Pendleton waited quietly. When her sobs subsided, she used her gloved hand to wipe the wet face. The soft velvet absorbed the tears.

“You are a little swollen and red, but you are still more beautiful than any other lady in the ballroom, Miss Lance.”

Miss Lance stared at Miss Pendleton doubtfully.

“Many ladies find their faces ruined after a good cry, but you still look like a newly blossomed flower bud.”

“R-Really?”

“Of course. Now, let's go to your room to wash your face and change your dress. I will redo your hair for you. No one will know you've been crying. Not even Mr. Dalton.”

Miss Lance, who had been rubbing her eyes, looked up sharply at Miss Pendleton. She was smiling gently.

“Today is the best chance you have to receive his proposal, is it not?”

Miss Lance nodded and went inside the manor with her.

As they climbed the stairs, Miss Lance glanced sideways at Miss Pendleton. The situation had become such that it seemed as if Miss Pendleton were helping her with Mr. Dalton.

‘Has she decided to give up on Mr. Dalton? Or does she have some other ulterior motive?’

Miss Lance could not begin to guess.

When they reached the room, Miss Pendleton diligently assisted Miss Lance. She had a maid bring a basin of water, helped her into a new dress, and styled her hair. Miss Pendleton's skills at primping were delicate and masterful.

The Miss Lance in the mirror looked just as beautiful as she had when preparing for the ball earlier. This was because Miss Pendleton had styled her hair to suit her face shape and chosen a fitting evening gown.

Miss Lance had no choice but to say,

“Thank you.”

Pinning back a stray hair of Miss Lance's, Miss Pendleton shook her head.

“Helping you is my duty.”

“Why is that?”

“I was the one who introduced you to Mr. Dalton, after all.”

“Come to think of it, I forgot to thank you for that as well. Thank you.”

“…”

Once her preparations were complete, the two of them stepped into the hallway to return to the ballroom. As they walked side by side, Miss Pendleton seemed to be lost in thought.