----------------------------------------------------------------- Translator: Harry Potta Chapter: 35 Chapter Title: Back to London (1) ----------------------------------------------------------------- Five minutes later, he summoned Ramswick. The moment Ramswick entered, he was instructed to call for the land agent w...
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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: Back to London (1)
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Five minutes later, he summoned Ramswick. The moment Ramswick entered, he was instructed to call for the land agent who had been interviewed the previous day.
The land agent arrived at Whitefield that evening. He was a stout man in his forties with sagging flesh under his eyes.
Ramswick had already smelled the strong scent of a swindler in the man’s oily tone and sycophantic demeanor during the last interview. He wondered why his master had called him back as he escorted the land agent to the study.
It was two hours later that Ramswick was summoned to the study again. When he entered, Ian referred to the man as the new land agent and told Ramswick to assist him from now on.
Ramswick was greatly surprised. It turned out Ian had spent the last two hours handing over his duties to the man.
Ian told Ramswick to call for a carriage at once. He then grabbed a small travel bag, which he must have instructed a servant to pack earlier, and left for the station to catch a train.
Watching the carriage disappear in a cloud of dust, Ramswick and the other servants couldn't help but wonder what on earth had happened in London.
Thanks to the night train, he was able to arrive in London the following morning. Ian immediately hired a carriage in front of the station.
The carriage soon stopped in front of the Fairfax siblings’ townhouse. After paying the fare, Ian got out with his bag and knocked on the door. The servant who opened it had a look of utter surprise upon seeing who it was.
Mr. Dalton of Whitefield? But they hadn't received any word of his arrival!
Ian strode inside and handed his luggage to the other bewildered servants, asking for William. They informed him that he was in the drawing room. Ian instructed them to take his bag to a guest room and went straight there.
In the drawing room, the Fairfax siblings were enjoying a pleasant time after breakfast. Miss Janet was playing the piano while William sat on the sofa, listening to the performance and reviewing some documents. It was a truly peaceful scene.
But the morning’s leisure turned to surprise the moment Ian entered. Miss Janet stopped playing the piano upon seeing him, and Mr. Fairfax dropped the papers he was holding.
Ian gave a slight nod to Miss Janet, who had risen from the piano bench, her face flushed as she curtsied. Then he turned his gaze to William, who looked as if he had seen a ghost.
“What on earth are you doing here? What about the estate?”
“It’s in the hands of a dubious bookkeeper. I need to see you for a moment.”
Ian gestured to William and left the drawing room. William neatly arranged his documents, placed them on the side table, told Miss Janet he enjoyed the piano, gave her a light kiss on the forehead, and followed Ian out.
The two men moved to the study. As soon as they entered, Ian leaned against William’s desk on one side and, the moment William closed the door, he asked.
“What’s that fellow’s name?”
“What?”
“That, that nouveau riche financier from America. What’s his name?”
Seeing Ian’s furious expression, William realized the effect his letter had had on his friend.
“What are you going to do with it?”
“I’m going to run him out of England.”
“What? On what grounds? The man is British by birth. He may have lived mostly in America, but he’s a British subject. Besides, he hasn't committed any crime here, has he? How are you going to run him out?”
Instead of answering, Ian reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled something out. It was a small pistol that fit snugly in his hand. The color drained from William’s face as he looked back and forth between the gun and Ian.
“Are you… planning to challenge him to a duel of honor?”
Ian didn’t answer. He placed it on William’s desk, then took a cigarillo from the box on the desk and put it in his mouth.
“Are you mad? Have you lost your mind, Ian Dalton? It’s almost the twentieth century! That sort of thing ended with our grandfathers’ generation!”
Ian struck a match against the strip. A flame sparked at the tip. He lit the end of the cigarillo and took a deep drag.
“The law still permits it. As long as there are witnesses, I can legally put a bullet in that man.”
“So, you, in the prime of your youth, are going to send that old gentleman, who doesn't have many years left, to his grave? What kind of duel of honor is that? It’s elder abuse!”
“If he doesn't like it, tell him to get lost and go back to America.”
Ian Dalton spoke firmly and smoked his cigarillo. Amid his bewilderment, William was certain this situation was the result of the letter he had sent on a whim. That letter had struck a direct hit on the heart of a man in love with a woman, pushing a cynic who had never once spoken of honor in his life to the brink of drawing a pistol.
A duel of honor, of all things. Who would have thought the day would come when the great Ian Dalton would bring up such an antiquated relic from a storybook?
“You… you really are in love with Miss Pendleton, aren't you?”
Leaning against Mr. Fairfax’s desk and exhaling smoke, Ian narrowed his eyes and retorted.
“Why else would I be here?”
“Well, it could be a fit of chivalry, wanting to get rid of Mr. Price as a friend of Miss Pendleton.”
“Don’t look for that so-called chivalry in me. I’m a man who lives without any regard for such childish wordplay.”
Ian tapped the ash into Mr. Fairfax’s ashtray and continued.
“I didn’t tell you, but ever since I first met Miss Pendleton in London, I’ve had her in my heart. If the parish vicar hadn't passed away, I never would have gone down to Whitefield in the middle of everything. I was planning to marry her in London and go down together.”
William’s jaw dropped when he heard the word marriage.
*This fellow is actually serious, isn't he?*
“So, does Miss Pendleton know how you feel?”
“Yes.”
“And did she accept your feelings?”
At William’s question, Ian said nothing and continued to smoke his cigarillo. William frowned.
“She turned you down, didn't she?”
Ian remained silent, but his expression was answer enough. William sighed, “Haaah.”
“Are you aware that you’re talking about shooting and killing a lady’s uncle’s friend right after she rejected your proposal?”
“Is there a problem?”
“The problem is that you don’t see the problem! Why don’t you understand that if you do something like that, it will only put Miss Pendleton in a difficult position? What you’re planning isn’t love; it’s a reckless crime of passion born of blinding jealousy. If that happens, the person in the most awkward position will be Miss Pendleton. What will she say to her uncle, the head of her family? How will society view her?”
“Doing nothing and letting this situation continue does more to tarnish Miss Pendleton’s honor than anything else, William.”
Ian muttered as if spitting the words out, crushing his cigarillo in the ashtray.
“If she had a father or a brother, they would have done the same as I. They would have gladly drawn a pistol for the honor of their daughter, their sister. In fact, a decrepit old fool like that wouldn't have even dared to approach her in the first place. That bastard is pestering Miss Pendleton because he knows she has no man to protect her!”
William stared at his friend’s bulging forehead veins and blazing eyes, dumbfounded by this unfamiliar side of him. He had never seen Ian so out of control.
From the moment he’d first met him as a child, Ian had been a haughty little gentleman who grew into a man cynical about everything. But now, he was like a completely different person—reckless, emotional, and a little mad.
“Yes, you’re right. I agree. What Miss Pendleton is going through is terribly unjust. But strictly speaking, you’re not her father or her brother.”
Ian silently took another cigarillo from the box.
“But I’m not just a friend to Miss Pendleton either, William.”
“Right, you’re a suitor. And that gives you the right to threaten Miss Pendleton’s guest at gunpoint for her honor? Isn’t that overstepping?”
“…”
“You know that in the world of the aristocracy, the honor of the head of the house is the honor of the family. You’re about to disgrace the Pendleton family. It’s a long shot, but even if she were to fall in love with you over this, she would never see your face again. Because Miss Pendleton is a Pendleton, through and through.”
“For the honor of a family head who doesn't even protect her?”
“For the honor of a family head who doesn't even protect her. As someone who has been her friend for six years, I can assure you, that is the kind of person Miss Pendleton is.”
Ian listened to him in silence. Noticing his fervor had subsided, William placed a hand on Ian’s shoulder.
“If you truly want to win Miss Pendleton’s heart, you need to calm down first. I’ll think about what we can do, too. And put that gun away. It’s scaring me.”
Normally, Ian would have scoffed at William’s words, but this time was different. He obediently put the gun back in his pocket. William had years of friendship with Miss Pendleton. Right now, what he needed most was the help of someone who knew her well.
For him, there was nothing more infuriating than watching Miss Pendleton be insulted, but he couldn't bear the sacrifice of never seeing her again.
William leaned against the desk next to Ian, took out a cigarillo, and lit it. The two men smoked in silence.
William thought about a marriage between Miss Pendleton and Ian. It was a rather good match. Though Miss Pendleton was a catch, Ian was a decent suitor in terms of his prospects, and given his personality, he wasn't the type to let a love he’d fallen for easily fade. He would likely devote his entire life to her.
Miss Pendleton herself had acknowledged that Ian was a suitable match, and more importantly, she seemed capable of handling Ian’s peculiar personality. For Ian, this might be his last chance to avoid dying an old bachelor.
But then, why did Miss Pendleton, who had thought rather well of Ian, refuse his proposal?
“Ian, how did you propose?”
“I never proposed.”
“You said you did.”
“I said Miss Pendleton knew my feelings.”
“How did you convey those feelings? Tell me exactly what happened.”
Ian wasn't keen on sharing the details of his time with Miss Pendleton with a male friend, but he confessed readily.
“During the picnic, while you and Miss Hyde were skipping stones, we went for a walk together. As we strolled through the woods, the conversation turned to Whitefield, and she said that if I were to marry, she would come to my home to attend the wedding. So I told her I wouldn't marry without her, and she immediately became serious and walked away.”
William stared at him blankly for a moment before asking again.
“So, you’re saying Miss Pendleton said she would attend your wedding? As in, she was hoping you would get married soon?”
“Yes.”
“And you responded by telling her you wouldn’t marry anyone but her?”
“That’s right.”
“You actually said that, even after hearing her say that? Isn’t it painfully obvious she has no feelings for you?”
“If I could go back to that moment, I would have bitten my tongue off to stop myself.”
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