Chapter 25

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: The Pendant
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When she first entered the Pendleton house, holding her father’s hand, she didn’t feel lonely. Her grandmother, Lady Abigail Pendleton, had welcomed her with open arms.

For Lady Pendleton, who had been living in seclusion, wearing mourning clothes for years due to the loss of her daughter, Laura was like a reincarnation of that very child.

The love her grandmother showered upon Laura was warm and devoted. Through her grandmother, Laura felt the motherly love she had never known.

But her uncle was another matter. To him, his sister’s elopement was a sordid scandal that had brought shame upon the Pendleton name, and his niece, Laura, was merely a byproduct of that scandal.

He was furious at his mother’s unilateral decision to bring his niece into the house while he was away, and he fought with his mother daily.

Her uncle would often banish young Laura from the dining table, and if he happened to catch sight of her anywhere in the house, he would roar in contempt as if he had seen a sewer rat.

Miss Pendleton had to quickly hide herself from his sight at his roars. She would have seizures just hearing his footsteps and it became routine for her to hide in the nursery to avoid his notice. For the young girl, every day was like treading on thin ice.

Miss Pendleton still remembered. The terrifying image of her uncle throwing an ashtray at her for dragging her feet. The unjust beatings she endured after being framed for stealing pudding from the pantry—pudding she didn't even know existed. The three years she spent at the Pendleton house during her childhood were days that left her with wounds that never healed.

To protect her granddaughter, her grandmother tried to soothe, persuade, and even beg her son. But her uncle was obstinate.

Eventually, her grandmother began to fight with her son as if he were an enemy. The young Laura’s shoulders grew heavy with guilt, as if weighed down by lead, for having caused such a great conflict in the household through her very existence.

After three years of ceaseless fighting with her son, refusing to give up on her granddaughter, Lady Pendleton finally abandoned the idea of raising her at the main estate. On the day it was decided that Laura would be sent to boarding school, Laura soaked her pillow with tears all night, offering prayers of gratitude.

*Lord, thank you for allowing me to leave this hellish house.*

But the boarding school she entered after leaving the estate was no paradise.

The Pendleton family was one of the most distinguished in England, so the facts surrounding Laura’s birth quickly spread throughout the school. While there was no overt bullying, Miss Pendleton spent many of her first few years alone, without friends.

However, during her time alone, she was able to immerse herself in her studies, and with her natural intellect and diligence, she consistently ranked at the top of her class.

Furthermore, she added effort to her innate nature, always conducting herself with kindness and propriety in front of others. Gradually, her reputation improved, and the label of an illegitimate child that had followed her began to be replaced by others.

Kind Laura. Diligent Laura. Laura who never gets angry.

Her classmates and teachers always called her that. It was much better to hear than "Laura the illegitimate." Throughout her teenage years, Laura strived not to be called Laura the illegitimate. To be diligent, kind, and never angry. Suppressing, suppressing, and suppressing some more.

It was not an easy life, but it was better than when she was at the Pendleton estate. Here, at least, her efforts paid off.

But school was a place one eventually had to leave. When she turned seventeen, her grandmother came to get her.

As she boarded the carriage adorned with the Pendleton family crest, following her grandmother, she feared she would have to return to the Pendleton estate. But her grandmother headed for a townhouse in London. The two of them settled in the townhouse and had lived there ever since.

Miss Pendleton only found out later. The fight between her uncle and grandmother had not ended when she left. In fact, it was the beginning of the real battle. While her granddaughter was at school, her grandmother had been engaged in a lawsuit to have her officially registered as a Pendleton.

Her grandmother wanted to give her precious granddaughter Laura the surname of her distinguished mother instead of her poor American father. Naturally, Gerald, the head of the family, objected, and the two were said to have fought tooth and nail in court for years.

Her grandmother fought on equal terms with her uncle, using her maternal family's vast landholdings, the townhouse transferred to her name by her husband, and a substantial pension from the state. But she could not overcome the English law that favored the head of the household.

Moreover, her uncle had come to genuinely hate his mother through the years of fighting. Filled with venom, he brought in expensive lawyers and did everything in his power to bring his mother to her knees.

In the end, sensing defeat, her grandmother had managed to get her granddaughter registered into the Pendleton family only by offering a condition: upon her death, all her property would be inherited by Gerald Pendleton’s second son, Charles.

As a result of this, her grandmother became completely estranged from her uncle, saying she didn't even want to see his shadow. Her grandmother settled permanently in London with Laura, who had officially become Miss Pendleton.

Her grandmother’s widow’s pension alone was more than enough for the two of them to live respectably in London. The year she graduated Miss Pendleton from school, her grandmother immediately had her granddaughter make her official debut into society.

Her grandmother had high hopes for Miss Pendleton’s debut. She expected Miss Pendleton to enjoy the high society life that her own daughter had failed to experience properly, having eloped right after her own debut.

Wearing beautiful dresses, receiving countless invitations, and hosting tea parties, dinners, and concerts.

Miss Pendleton did not argue with her grandmother's expectations, but she had none for her own social life. She couldn't imagine that the label that had followed her since childhood would fall away so easily.

And just as she expected, London’s aristocratic society had not forgotten the woman who had created a great scandal. And they did not fully accept Laura Pendleton, her child who bore her name, as one of their own. The disdain and ostracism she received upon her debut were unimaginable.

During the twelve years she spent in society, she lived with a humble heart, reminding herself that she was not a proper aristocrat. It was the only way she could avoid collapsing under the cold treatment and humiliation.

Standing by the window, her eyes, which had been gazing at the pendant, sank deep.

Now she was a spinster approaching thirty, and the mother in the pendant was a young lady much younger than herself. Laura Pendleton, who had developed her reason through experience and observation, could make a sound judgment.

She saw how wrong a choice Dolores Pendleton had made, running away with a penniless painter at seventeen. She had died because of a foolish passion.

And the price of that foolishness did not end with her own death. It was passed down directly to her child.

To her, the pearl pendant was now like a sturdy suit of armor to keep from losing herself. As long as she wore this necklace, she would never make a choice that reason did not permit. She was determined not to make the same irreversible mistakes as her parents. No matter how wildly her emotions raged.

She put Mr. Dalton’s letter back in the drawer. Then she looked at the mirror on her vanity. At Laura Pendleton, the illegitimate child of American parents, a false noble.

She could not be with Ian Dalton. Age and dowry were, in fact, secondary issues. No matter how much he loved her, if he was with her, a woman with common blood, he too would become the subject of scandal. And the bigger problem would be if they married and had children.

The issue of her parents would become a stigma not just for the couple, but for their children as well. Whenever they sought to marry or enter high society, the matter of her, their mother's, birth would inevitably be raised.

Children born into a family as historic as the Daltons would become the subject of gossip because of their mother’s origins.

Her children would suffer the same things she had lived through. Miss Pendleton could not let her child endure what she had. To be precise, she could not let Mr. Dalton’s child endure such a thing either.

‘I like him. That’s why… the more I do, the more it’s right to give up.’

As her rational judgment continued, her heart grew calm. She closed the lid of the pendant that had been open.

*Click.* With it, her heart closed as well.

***

Reverend Genfield's funeral was held quietly at the small church in Whitefield where he had dedicated his life. Under the direction of the young associate pastor, Oliver Starr, who had assisted him for the past three years, his relatives and parishioners, dressed in black mourning clothes, paid tribute to the man who was both stern and dignified.

Soon, the coffin was shouldered by six strong men and carried towards the cemetery where he would find his eternal rest. The people in mourning followed the coffin to the cemetery, forming a long, trailing line.

The coffin, placed in the prepared pit, was soon sealed forever by mounds of earth. The people cried and murmured prayers before dispersing. Only one person, Ian Dalton, remained before the new grave.

He stood silently, gazing at Reverend Genfield's headstone. Reverend Genfield, the old pastor who had performed his first baptism. The fact that he had not been there to witness his final moments pained his heart.

He stood in place, closed his eyes, and prayed for a couple of minutes. Then, with respect and sorrow, he placed a short kiss on the headstone and quietly departed.

In front of the church, mourners were scattered about, talking amongst themselves or gathering around the deceased's family to offer condolences. Among them, a portly, middle-aged man in black mourning clothes saw Mr. Dalton and strode over, his hands in his pockets. It was Ian Dalton's brother-in-law, Robert Fairfax.

Upon seeing him, Ian removed his hat and gave a slight bow.

“You rushed back last night, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Did you finish your business in London?”

“There is still some left. I will return as soon as I’ve settled matters on the estate.”

Robert nodded.

“Why don’t you stop by and see your sister before you go? She’s been waiting on pins and needles for you to come back from London.”

“Please tell her I’ll visit after I’ve finished my work. Is my sister’s health alright?”

“The chills have lessened quite a bit. Still, a long journey would be difficult for her. But she still has more than enough energy to meddle in your romantic endeavors. So, did you find any decent young ladies in London?”