Chapter 19

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: The Picnic (1)
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Miss Lance stopped her in a high voice. Only then grasping the situation, Miss Wilkes blushed and fell silent. Miss Daisy Orson, who was beside her, quickly changed the subject.

“Oh, look at the river!”

Soon, the four carriages arrived at a wide grassy field by the river. The gentlemen, who had been acting as coachmen, alighted in unison to help the ladies down from the carriages. Miss Lance was so mortified by her friends that she could hardly look Mr. Dalton in the eye, but he assisted her down with perfect courtesy.

The day’s itinerary began with a boat ride and a meal, followed by leisurely strolls and tennis. Of course, the gentlemen were to act as oarsmen, and the groups from the carriages remained together for the boating excursion.

The gentlemen helped the ladies into the boats one by one. As the ladies stepped aboard, the rocking of the boat prompted each to let out a ladylike shriek, making a great show of their fear.

The gentlemen boarded last. Then they slowly began to row, gliding along the river’s current.

The ladies enjoyed the boat ride, admiring the blades of grass hanging over the riverbank and the scenery, and sometimes leaning over to dip their hands in the water. One lady made a perilous attempt to reach out and pick a water lily, nearly falling into the river and causing all the other ladies to scream in genuine alarm.

Meanwhile, Miss Lance quietly watched the back of Mr. Dalton as he rowed. His rolled-up sleeves and his black hair fluttering in the wind. The occasional glimpse of his profile was, quite literally, like a painting. A tender feeling blossomed in her chest.

After a tour of the river, the boats returned to the landing. There, servants of the Lance family who had followed ahead had lavishly spread out picnic blankets and food in a tranquil spot under a tree.

As there were many people, the picnic area was divided into four sections of blankets, and the groups from the carriages stayed together. Miss Lance's wishes and her friends' intentions aligned, so Mr. Dalton remained with her group.

Mr. Dalton sat among the ladies without saying much. He seemed to have been lost in thought for some time. Miss Lance watched him closely, trying to read his expression, and soon noticed that his gaze was fixed on Miss Pendleton.

Miss Lance recalled the conversation her friends had had earlier. That must surely be the reason.

Feeling a sense of dismay, Miss Lance studied his expression. He looked grave. Miss Lance tried to piece things together to understand why he was looking at Miss Pendleton that way.

Even if he and Miss Pendleton were close friends, it was strange for him to wear such an expression over the matter of her birth. It wasn't light concern or curiosity; his expression was truly and deeply somber. Miss Lance thought a little more deeply and soon found her answer.

He had learned of the defect in Miss Pendleton's birth and was now feeling uneasy about their association.

Miss Lance felt a little disappointed in him, but she quickly changed her mind and sided with him. Considering his family and lineage, it was certainly an uncomfortable matter. A belief in the importance of bloodlines was still a common way of thinking in England.

She quickly recovered her favorable opinion of him and steeled her resolve.

*Even if he cuts ties with Miss Pendleton, I must not be disappointed in him. He is only acting according to conventional values.*

After the meal, they each took up tennis equipment or parasols and went out into the field. And they began to enjoy the peaceful afternoon, some strolling, others hitting a ball back and forth.

Miss Lance was pondering how to create an opportunity to walk with Mr. Dalton when, unexpectedly, he himself invited her for a stroll.

Miss Lance, her cheeks blushing faintly, followed him. It was obvious how her three friends would fuss and flutter after the two had disappeared.

Miss Lance and Mr. Dalton walked silently along the riverbank. Miss Lance simply watched his pensive profile.

“Miss Lance.”

After a moment, Mr. Dalton called to her softly.

“Yes, Mr. Dalton?”

“There is something I wish to ask, though I am not sure if you would be able to answer.”

Miss Lance, anticipating his question, told him it was quite all right to ask.

“I have a question about the conversation earlier regarding Miss Pendleton. Specifically, about her mother.”

Miss Lance looked at the ground without a word. It was a situation where not showing hesitation would seem improper.

“I am terribly sorry to ask such a question. I know you and Miss Pendleton share a deep friendship. To ask you about her family must be an ordeal for you. However, I value my friendship with Miss Pendleton, which has continued since London, just as much as you do. Considering our future association, I feel it is a matter I must understand.”

At Mr. Dalton's words, Miss Lance thought, *Just as I expected. Mr. Dalton is hesitant about his friendship with Miss Pendleton. It's understandable. In English high society, family and parental reputation are as important as wealth. If there is indeed a flaw in her lineage, it must be unpleasant to have associated with such a person for so long. No one can blame him.*

Miss Lance paused for a moment before she began to speak.

“I do not know the full details myself. I have only heard stories from the adults around me. Miss Pendleton's mother was a daughter of the Pendleton family. She was a jewel of society, with so many suitors lining up that they could only wait for her to choose.”

“…”

“But then, quite unexpectedly, she vanished at the age of seventeen. She never appeared in society again. Because, you see, she eloped in the middle of the night with an American painter who had come to her house to paint her portrait.”

Miss Lance glanced at Mr. Dalton's face. His expression was hard and rigid.

“The two lived together in hiding somewhere, without a proper wedding, but she passed away while giving birth to Miss Laura. They say the painter left his granddaughter with Lady Abigail Pendleton and then simply vanished. It seems he abandoned his young daughter to start a new life. In the end, poor Miss Laura had to forsake her father's name and was formally adopted into the Pendleton family.”

As she recounted the story, Miss Lance couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Miss Pendleton's situation.

*If only she had been born properly, she could have lived in a position so high that no one would dare point a finger.* Because of her parents' mistake, she had become a noble of ambiguous standing, bearing her mother's surname. The matter of her birth was as fatal a disqualification in the marriage market as her lack of a dowry.

Upon hearing the story, Mr. Dalton stopped in his tracks. He gazed at the distant river for a moment. Miss Lance could not see his face, so she could not tell what his expression was. But from his demeanor, she could tell his mood had soured considerably.

*Ah, just as I thought! Mr. Dalton is displeased by Miss Pendleton's birth!* Miss Lance was seized by a convulsive wave of pity, feeling an urge to defend poor Miss Pendleton.

“Mr. Dalton, Miss Pendleton is a lady who lacks nothing in character or family to be considered upper class. You know this. You know how kind and elegant she is. She is the greatest victim of her own birth. Her lack of a dowry is also entirely due to her lineage.”

Miss Lance continued in an impassioned voice.

“They say her uncle, Mr. Pendleton, was so opposed to her adoption that it was only accepted on the condition that all of Lady Pendleton's fortune would be inherited by his own son. That's how Miss Pendleton was left without a single penny to her name. When Lady Abigail Pendleton passes away, Miss Pendleton will truly have nowhere to go. So…”

Miss Lance steadied her trembling voice.

“So please… do not think too poorly of Miss Pendleton.”

At her words, Mr. Dalton turned his head to look at Miss Lance.

“What do you mean?”

“Even though she may have the blood of a commoner, please look at her inner character, Mr. Dalton!”

Miss Lance pleaded once more. Mr. Dalton looked at her with a puzzled expression, then let out a short laugh and shook his head.

“No, Miss Lance. It is a misunderstanding. Do you truly think I would look down on her for such a trivial matter? I was merely… surprised. That Miss Pendleton had such circumstances…”

Mr. Dalton fell silent for a moment and looked toward the river again. Then he murmured, as if to himself.

“…So that's why she's always so…”

The two of them looked at the river in silence. Miss Lance didn't truly believe that he was untroubled by Miss Pendleton's situation. *He must be beating around the bush because it would be awkward to speak his mind so openly. If not, there would be no reason for him to become so grave over Miss Pendleton's birth.*

Miss Lance believed his complex expression revealed an inner battle with his conscience. *He was striving to maintain the right course, caught between his long-standing friendship and his discomfort with her lineage.*

Miss Lance felt a strong sense of kinship, believing his heart was fighting to uphold its nobility. For she, too, had tried tirelessly to hide her own uneasiness with Miss Pendleton's lineage whenever she saw her.

After a moment, Mr. Dalton finished his thoughts and suggested they return to the others. They turned and walked slowly back toward the group.

“I have heard Miss Pendleton praise you often, Miss Lance. She described you as a lady with a kind heart. And today, I have learned just how reliable Miss Pendleton's judgment is.”

Miss Lance blushed and smiled.

“Oh, you mustn't say such things, Mr. Dalton.”

“I am relieved to know Miss Pendleton has such good friends.”

Miss Lance felt quite pleased by his words. It felt much better than the common compliments about being beautiful or elegant. She had acted on the side of goodness and, in return, had earned his approval.

She felt proud of her conscience, and reaffirming that defending poor Miss Pendleton was ultimately the right thing to do, she decided to take today's events as a lesson.

As they neared the group, her friends playing tennis in the field invited Miss Lance to join them. Miss Lance wanted to stay with Mr. Dalton a little longer and looked up at him, but he simply told her to enjoy herself and walked off somewhere before she could stop him.

Miss Lance felt a little disappointed, but she decided to be content with their walk and accepted the racquet her friend offered her.