Chapter 120

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 120
Chapter Title: Old Love (2)
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Laura prayed for him every night. That his business would prosper, and that his family and health would be blessed with peace. Even though he had made her already difficult life even harder, she wished for nothing but his happiness.

It was a kind of spiritual discipline. A discipline to become a person who could overcome resentment and betrayal, and learn to forgive. Like the old saying, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade,” Laura had practiced the most rational way to overcome her pain.

But now, facing him for the first time in twelve years, Laura could not stop the seeds of resentment from sprouting.

This change in her had not begun today. She had recently stopped praying for him. When she received the letter from Anne, telling her he was looking for her, Laura realized she had never truly forgiven him. The sense of betrayal she had felt twelve years ago had only been hidden deep in her heart; it had neither vanished nor changed.

Laura knew that the moment she realized her true feelings coincided with the time the tightly shut doors of her heart began to crack open for Mr. Dalton.

It was not just affection for Mr. Dalton that had begun to flow uncontrollably from her heart. It was the entirety of her suppressed human emotions.

However, her habit of not easily revealing her inner thoughts still served as a strong shield. Instead of confronting John Ashton about the past, she calmly took his arm and walked. To an onlooker, they might have appeared as an affectionate young couple visiting Bath.

Given the circumstances, Laura needed his help.

Apart from her resentment toward him, Laura felt a sense of security walking with him. He was a man of broad build. Growing up, he had hammered hot iron alongside his blacksmith father, and as a young man, with the patronage of a certain Mrs. Granchard, he had learned horsemanship and fencing, becoming exceptionally robust.

Twelve years ago, she had always felt secure by his side. It felt as though she could remain unharmed even if boulders rained down from the sky, as long as she was with him. But it had all been a delusion.

“I can feel his eyes on us. He’s still following.”

He muttered.

“The fellow has some nerve. Not giving up even when you have a man escorting you. His affection for you must be quite intense.”

“We can’t be sure I’m the one he’s after. He might be following to find one of the other ladies staying with me.”

She replied in a calm voice.

“No. The target is definitely you, Laura. No matter how charming the ladies you are with may be, they could not possibly be more beautiful than you.”

Laura said nothing. A moment of silence passed before he spoke again.

“A nurse I once employed lives on the outskirts of Bath. She will help you get away safely. Can you walk a little further?”

Laura nodded.

Some time passed. The street scene, once lined with shop windows displaying silk fabrics and grand hotels with doormen guarding their entrances, gradually gave way to a shabbier view of peeling gates and humble pubs clustered together.

The two of them stopped in front of a house with a red door. He took the knocker and rapped on the door. Soon, a thin, middle-aged woman wearing a lady’s hat appeared.

“Oh, my. Mr. Ashton.”

He removed his hat and greeted her.

“Good day, Mrs. Chelsey. May we come in for a moment?”

“Of course.”

The two entered the house.

John explained Laura’s general situation to her. The woman looked at Laura with a deeply sympathetic expression.

“Mrs. Chelsey, as an old friend, I must ensure this lady returns home safely. It will be impossible without your help.”

“Just tell me what you need. I’m prepared to do anything for a gentleman like you, Mr. Ashton.”

Mr. Ashton told Laura and Mrs. Chelsey his plan.

Laura would borrow Mrs. Chelsey’s clothes and slip out of the house. If she carried a basket and walked slowly like an old woman, she would likely be mistaken for the housekeeper.

Laura followed Mrs. Chelsey into her dressing room. Indeed, it was an excellent plan. Mrs. Chelsey’s clothes were all old-fashioned, looking at least fifty years out of style. Loose-fitting lines that didn't accentuate the waist and fabrics with dated patterns. Moreover, the only hats were bygone bonnets that even elderly ladies no longer wore.

Laura put on a navy dress, draped a tattered-looking gray shawl over her shoulders, and wore a large brown bonnet on her head. Then, as if heading to the market, she picked up a shopping basket.

Laura slipped out the front door. She hunched her back, bowing her head to hide her face, and began to slowly walk away from Mrs. Chelsey’s house.

During the ten-minute walk, Laura felt no presence behind her. She had finally shaken the man.

Laura hailed a hackney carriage on the main road. Only then did the tension leave her body. She removed the old, heavy bonnet from her head and sank back against the seat.

*John. I met him. After twelve years.*

The man she had glimpsed through the bookstore window was indeed John Ashton. Laura took a deep breath, trying to calm her unpleasantly racing heart.

*Since I accepted his help, I'll have to see him one more time. To offer my thanks. That will be the last time. I won't have to see his face again after that.*

The carriage stopped in front of the hotel. Laura paid the fare and stepped out of the carriage.

Laura mentally reviewed Miss Rotis’s schedule. Today, she was scheduled to give a reading at a countess’s salon. The gathering would last until evening, so she wouldn’t have to explain her attire.

Laura went up to the suite without much thought. But when she opened the door, she found Miss Hyde and Miss Rotis in the drawing room.
Laura was taken aback.

*Why are they back so early?*

Laura now had to think of how to explain her clothes. It would be difficult to hide the matter of John Ashton. Claiming she had accepted help from a strange gentleman on the street and borrowed his acquaintance’s clothes would sound odd.

But her worry was brief, as she noticed that neither of them seemed to be paying any attention to her clothes. Miss Hyde had a grave expression, and Miss Rotis was looking down, lost in thought.

Laura approached them.

“Is something the matter…?”

Miss Hyde stared at Laura. Her gaze was a mixture of distress and concern.

“Miss Pendleton.”

Miss Rotis began to speak.

“We heard a rumor at the salon today. It concerns you deeply, so we returned earlier than planned.”

“What….”

Miss Rotis turned her head and looked at Miss Hyde, as if passing the ball to a teammate. Miss Hyde bit her lip and hesitated, then sighed and spoke.

“The Pendleton family estate and mansion in Cornwall are going up for auction. Their London townhouse is already on the market.”

Laura first went and sat on the sofa. Then she calmly folded her hands in her lap.

“Did you hear how it came to this?”

“Apparently, the construction business started by the eldest son ran into trouble. And there are widespread rumors that the second son, Charles Pendleton, used investors’ money to pay off his gambling debts.”

“If everyone is talking about it, then Charles Pendleton must not have been able to pay off his debts.”

Miss Hyde nodded.

“It’s obvious he couldn’t even dream of settling his gambling debts while paying for lawyers to fight the investors’ lawsuit. They say his creditors had him sent to debtors’ prison to prevent him from fleeing the country.”

After finishing, Miss Hyde watched Miss Pendleton’s face carefully.

The wide-brimmed bonnet cast a shadow over Laura’s face, making it difficult to read her expression. But from what she could see, her face showed no signs of sadness or shock.

Just a face in calm contemplation.

Presently, Laura spoke.

“So, Miss Joan Jensen has lost her fiancé. She was so fond of the Pendleton townhouse. What a shame.”

Miss Hyde blinked in surprise. Laura continued.

“I do hope the townhouse and the Cornwall estate find new owners who can manage them well.”

As if she had said all she needed to, Laura fell silent.

“Miss Pendleton, are you all right?”

Laura looked at Miss Hyde as if to ask what she meant.

“I thought you would be terribly shocked. The Pendletons of Cornwall are one of the most distinguished noble families, and I imagined it was a great source of pride for you as well… Of course, I know the family was cruel to you, but…”

Laura gave a faint smile.

“Miss Hyde, I may have had the Pendleton name, but I never once belonged to them. I am the daughter of Dolores Pendleton, who left the family, and Louis Sheldon, the American painter. And that is my true source of pride. I admire my mother for her decision to leave in search of love, and I love my father, who was more than worthy of being her husband.”

Miss Hyde was stunned into silence. It was only natural. Having once been a part of high society, Miss Hyde knew exactly how aristocrats thought.
To a noble, their family was their very identity. The attachment to a noble bloodline passed down for hundreds of years created an immense sense of self, and it was not uncommon for some to even take their own lives when their family lost its prestige.

That was why she had been so concerned about Miss Pendleton’s distress and had persuaded Miss Rotis to leave the salon early.

Suddenly, Miss Rotis struck the floor with the tip of her cane.

“Well, that settles it.”

Miss Rotis stood up.

“We are dining at Beatrice tonight. I made a reservation on our way back from the salon, so we won't have to kill time in the Pump Room like last time.”

Thanks to Miss Rotis, the mood lightened. Laura gave her a bashful smile.

“Was this to comfort me, my kind Miss Rotis?”

“Not at all. I was planning to pop a bottle of champagne. Jane told me a little about how the Pendleton family treated you.”

The three of them walked slowly through the sunset-lit streets to Beatrice. There, they feasted on a large pizza piled high with fresh cheese and various kinds of pasta, and drank champagne. It was an evening filled with jokes and laughter.

After the meal, they stepped out onto the street, and Laura bought a box of chocolates from a nearby dessert shop. The three shared the chocolates as they walked back to the hotel through the brightly lit, gas-lamped streets of Bath.

That night, Laura took a warm shower, put on a fresh nightgown, and fell into a peaceful sleep.

She knew what the members of the Pendleton family must be going through. Charles Pendleton would be cowering in fear in a filthy, damp prison, the likes of which he had never seen. The eldest son, John Pendleton, true to his weak nature, would be drunk and weeping alone.

And Gerald Pendleton, who had lived his entire life in arrogance, proud of being the head of a distinguished family, would be fiddling with a pistol, perhaps even wishing for death.
Even for Laura, who was quick to feel sympathy for the misfortunes of others, she did not offer a single prayer for them.

Gerald Pendleton’s villainy was that deep and vile. So vile that it would prevent even the most generous person in the world from shedding a single tear over the tragedy of their own kin.