Chapter 113

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 113
Chapter Title: The Aftermath of Sincerity (3)
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“Damn it, this blasted difference in status…”

“No, the problem is you. You, Ian Dalton. You should have approached her more cautiously. Until she was convinced that you needed her, that you had much to gain from her. But you went mad and threw a tantrum like a child.”

He paced the room like a madman.

“I followed your advice! You told me to befriend another woman to lower her guard, so I did. Because of that, Laura was disappointed in me. That must be why she left!”

“A poor workman blames his tools, as they say. No woman would leave the man she loves for such a trivial reason.”

“Then why?”

“Because she knows that love alone cannot overcome everything. She's likely afraid that her very existence will be a blemish upon you.”

He stopped dead in his tracks and frantically ran his hands through his hair. His neatly combed hair was now a complete mess.

“Damn it! Damn it! Why would such an intelligent woman think such foolish thoughts! Damn it all!”

“It's all because you failed to give her assurance.”

Ian whirled around to face his sister.

“Where did Laura go?”

“Tear my mouth open. See if I’ll tell you.”

“Must I make the same threat to you that I made to Laura?”

“There are plenty of guns in your brother-in-law's room. Shall I pull the trigger for you?”

Ian clutched his hair and screamed. He truly looked like a madman.

Mrs. Fairfax, with an indifferent expression, pondered what love was to the animal called man. Seeing her younger brother's state, it seemed to be a dark magic that made one lose their mind.

Ian alternated between anger and pleading, pressing his sister for Laura's whereabouts. But Mrs. Fairfax kept her lips sealed like a flower bud awaiting May, merely watching her younger brother descend into madness.

“She will return. I told her to stay away from Dunville Park until your feelings cooled. When she comes back in the spring, you can start over.”

“What if her feelings cool in the meantime? What if she meets another man and falls in love?”

“A woman's love isn't a roast that must be kept under a silver cover lest it spoil. With so little faith in women, you're on the fast track to becoming a pathologically jealous husband.”

Mrs. Fairfax clicked her tongue.

“This emotional nature of yours is why you failed to win Miss Sheldon's love, despite your handsome face and excellent prospects. Until spring comes, reflect on yourself and devise a new plan to win her heart. And here.”

Mrs. Fairfax handed Ian a paper envelope that was on the side table.

“It's a letter she left for you.”

Ian quickly snatched the letter and unfolded the paper.

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To Mr. Dalton.

By the time you read this, I will have left for a place unknown to you. If you try to find and follow me, I will cross the Channel to a place where your hand can never reach.

I have a confession to make. You said I was your first love. But you are not my first love. The kisses we shared may have been a first for you, but they were not for me.

I was not as proper a lady as you might have thought. I hope you will awaken from your illusions about me.

Laura Pendleton.

--------

Ian's arm, holding the letter, dropped to his side.

“What does it say?”

“To forget her.”

That was all he could say.

He dragged his leaden feet out of his sister's room. He heard a click of the tongue from behind him, but he didn't register it.

He collapsed onto the steps connecting the manor's exit to the garden. And he read the letter once more.

Reading it again still left him numb. Each and every word felt like a slap to his cheek.

To Laura, he was not her first love. Not only that, she said even their kisses were not her first.

The fact itself was a shock, but what was more terrible was that Laura herself had been the one to tell him.

The contents seemed deliberately intended to make him lose his affection for her. How could she confess a past with another man while loving him?

If he had heard about her past from someone else, he would have recovered from the shock quickly. He would have been jealous, of course, but it was all before she met him. His feelings were not so shallow as to cool over something like that.

*She doesn't love me. I must have misunderstood what was merely a little affection.*

The bouquet and the bundle of keys he had prepared for her had become a joke, especially when the intended recipient was so indifferent.

*I'd rather die.*

He buried his face in his knees, sinking to the bottom of a distant despair.

“Uncle. What are you doing?”

He slowly raised his head. Before him, Olivia, dressed in a lavender gown, was looking down at him.

He forced a smile.

“Have you been well, Olivia?”

“Of course. Though I am a little sad about parting with my teacher.”

Olivia smiled regretfully.

“Your proposal failed, didn't it?”

His smile turned bitter.

“So what? You can just try again. If she refuses, try again, and again. I know a lady who refused her husband's proposal five times before accepting on the sixth. The man was a pockmarked widower with nine children. But you're so handsome, Uncle. You'll probably succeed within three tries!”

“Thank you for the hopeful story. It's a great comfort.”

He rose to his feet. Despair was something to be indulged in at his own home, not at his sister's house teeming with nieces and nephews.

He ordered a servant to prepare the carriage. Olivia stood beside him to see her uncle off.

“Uncle, is it true you told the teacher you'd shoot yourself in the head with a pistol if she didn't accept your proposal?”

“Who did you hear that from?”

“Oh, just here and there. How can you be so romantic? I see you in a new light, Uncle. You're just like the hero of a melodrama!”

“I'm grateful that at least you see it that way, Olivia.”

“I wish I could receive a proposal like that someday! Anyway, Uncle, if you happen to go to London, you should stop by Bath while you're at it.”

“Why Bath?”

“Because your jewel will be spending the winter in Bath.”

He looked down at Olivia. She covered her mouth and giggled.

The carriage stopped in front of them. He stepped onto the footplate, climbed into the carriage, and closed the door.

“Uncle, what I told you is a secret.”

“I know. Farewell, Olivia.”

The carriage departed. He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes.

She had gone to Bath.

Before reading the letter, he would have immediately packed his bags and searched the area with a fine-toothed comb. But now, he had no will to do so. What would be the point of seeing Laura again?

For a woman, a man she didn't want to hide her past from was a man who meant nothing to her. He was nothing to her.

He arrived at his estate and trudged inside.

The butler, Ramswick, approached him.

“My lord. A guest has arrived and is waiting for you.”

He made his way to his study. Inside, the Dalton family's legal representative was seated.

The man bowed respectfully. As Ian sat down across from him, the representative politely offered him a document.

“We've detected signs of embezzlement in the Pendleton family business you invested in. It appears Charles Pendleton, having reached the limit of his gambling debts, has dipped into his brother's business funds.”

Ian scanned the document and gave a cynical smile.

“Charles Pendleton is quite the man. To squander Lady Abigail's enormous inheritance in an instant and then dip into his own brother's business funds. And the eldest son allowed it?”

“Yes. Because Gerald Pendleton allowed it. The eldest son, John Pendleton, is a petty man and a naive country gentleman who treats his father's words as divine prophecy. All his failed ventures so far were started because he couldn't defy his father's nagging, and he's never so much as recouped the principal, let alone succeeded. His reputation is that of an inherently incompetent man.”

Ian exhaled cigar smoke, lost in thought.

Things were proceeding more easily than expected. The Pendleton family's shipbuilding business was a large-scale merchant vessel contract. Shipbuilding was normally a complex process that took years, from drafting the blueprints to selecting the materials.

But once Ian stepped in as an investor, and other financiers, trusting his investment, flocked to contribute, a huge sum was raised. In less than a month, the blueprints were unveiled, and the procurement of materials and construction were proceeding at a breakneck pace.

It would take longer to make a child's toy.

Even before investing, Ian had been certain. There would undoubtedly be some shady dealings in the procurement of materials.

They would use cheap timber to embezzle material costs, or purchase lumber as a result of bribery. Then, Ian would withdraw his investment, claiming to have received an anonymous tip, and the other investors would surely follow suit.

With clear negligence on the part of the business, the Pendletons would have no room to argue. They would be left shouldering all the costs for the blueprints and materials, and the Pendleton family would face complete and utter bankruptcy.

But for them to embezzle funds even before that could happen… Gerald Pendleton himself had just created an opportunity to dramatically shorten a process that could have dragged on in court for years.

*So the Pendleton family is about to fall, all thanks to the sons he chose after casting out his wise niece.*

The mere thought made him laugh. He was on the verge of bringing down, with his own hands, the beast who not only inflicted indelible scars on Laura's childhood but also brutally abused and cast out his niece after she had become a lady.

It was so gratifying that, for a brief moment, he even forgot the sorrow of being rejected by Laura.

“Is Gerald Pendleton in London?”

“Yes. He is reportedly staying at a townhouse in Grosvenor Square with his sons.”

“The circumstances are clear, so there's no need to drag this out any longer. Notify them that we are withdrawing the investment immediately.”

“Yes, sir. Then I will depart for London today. As soon as we have the results, I will send a wire…”

“I'm going with you.”

“Sir?”

Ian placed the documents on the table and put a cheroot in his mouth. Striking a match on its side, he lit the end and smiled, the corners of his lips turning up.

“I want to see with my own two eyes the look on Gerald Pendleton's face the moment his great Pendleton family crumbles like a sandcastle.”