Chapter 43

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: The American Lady (2)
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“Though I haven’t known you for long, it seems there is no one better suited than you to help me achieve my aspirations.”

Miss Jensen adjusted her posture.

“Miss Pendleton, borrowing upon your kindness, I shall continue with my earlier request. My godfather must have told you my purpose for coming to England. For an American lady, becoming a member of an English noble family is an opportunity money can’t buy. Thanks to the current recession in England, I’ve managed to seize this chance. I intend to conquer London society within three years. I’ll make it so that everyone will want to attend my gatherings, and anyone would come running at my invitation. As Joan Jensen from America, it’s impossible, but as Joan Pendleton, a member of the Pendleton family, it is possible. Once I become a celebrity in English society, invitations to European society will naturally follow. I will conquer Europe. Napoleon Bonaparte couldn't, but I can.”

Miss Pendleton was surprised by her frankness. To so boldly declare that she was marrying for the purpose of entering European aristocratic society.

Come to think of it, she had heard that women like Joan Jensen had become more common lately. Wealthy American young ladies who crossed the sea to Europe in search of noble husbands.

European ladies called them ‘pirates’ with contempt, but anyone could see that the word held a fear of these competitors.

Joan Jensen was a typical ‘pirate.’

However, Miss Pendleton did not find herself disliking Joan Jensen for it. Having given up on the idea of marriage, she didn't see Miss Jensen as a rival. And while her motives for marriage were impure, unions born of love were even rarer in London’s aristocratic society. London society was a human marketplace where people were bought and sold for money, connections, status, and looks.

At the very least, Miss Joan Jensen was honest about her goals, which meant she was free of hypocrisy. Miss Pendleton even found her rather admirable. Miss Jensen was someone who unreservedly displayed the very human qualities that she herself had suppressed and endured all her life.

Miss Pendleton offered the warmest smile she could muster for someone she liked.

“Please, continue.”

“But I know that the Pendleton name alone won’t solve everything. That’s where I hope you will help me, Miss Pendleton.”

“How may I be of assistance?”

Miss Jensen smiled slyly.

“Tell me honestly. There are many problems with my etiquette, aren't there?”

Miss Pendleton answered frankly.

“Yes.”

“Teach me how to become an elegant lady like you. Every single thing that English etiquette demands of a lady. I will do exactly as you say, Miss Pendleton. After that, please introduce me to your friends. If you just provide the introductions, I will handle the rest myself.”

“Very well. Next week, there is a rowing race between Cambridge and Oxford. Nearly everyone in society will be there. I will introduce you to my friends then. As you say, it seems there will be nothing left for me to do after that. Miss Jensen, you will become the most sought-after lady in London.”

From that day on, Miss Pendleton became Miss Jensen’s tutor for London society. She frequently summoned her to provide detailed guidance on the workings of high society and the required etiquette, and they went to Harrods together, where she helped her shop for fine dresses, hats, shoes, and boots for the outing.

Fortunately, Miss Pendleton had plenty of time. Ever since her uncle’s arrival, he had been by her grandmother’s side. He would lie next to her, holding her hand and whispering endlessly, as if catching up on all the years they had missed. Whenever Miss Pendleton went to check on them, her uncle would send her away, telling her to focus solely on helping Miss Jensen.

Miss Pendleton was worried, but since her grandmother also wanted to be with her uncle, she had no choice but to turn back from her grandmother’s bedside each time.

* * *

A week later, the day of the rowing race dawned. The two ladies shared a carriage to the Thames, where the race was being held.

Near the finish line on the upper Thames, the area was already teeming with high-society figures dressed in flowing dresses and smart outing attire. Shielding themselves from the sun with hats and parasols, they strolled across the lawn, engrossed in socializing, or sat on long benches facing the river with small telescopes, waiting for the rowers to reach the finish line.

Miss Pendleton linked arms with Miss Jensen and walked toward the crowd.

Everywhere the two ladies went, gazes followed. It was already a widespread rumor in society that the beautiful young lady beside Miss Pendleton was none other than Mr. Price’s goddaughter, Miss Joan Jensen.

Everyone, especially the young ladies, was more than a little curious about her. A beautiful heiress from America—it was impossible for her not to attract attention.

Since several ladies had already spotted her shopping with Miss Pendleton at Harrods, Miss Jensen had become a hot topic at every tea party in every mansion.

But being an object of curiosity did not mean they were fond of her. No matter how wealthy she was or that her engagement to a Pendleton was set, she was an American. Her case was entirely different from Mr. Price, who, despite having made his fortune in America, was an Englishman by nationality.

For Miss Jensen to be accepted as one of them, she needed a bridge to build friendships with everyone. Miss Pendleton was that bridge for her.

Miss Pendleton took Miss Jensen to the most influential people she knew and introduced her.

Miss Jensen, having shed all the free-spiritedness of her first arrival in England, presented a proper and polite demeanor. However, the influential figures were still too haughty to spare much time for a woman who was an American and not yet anyone’s wife.

Still, it wasn't a bad start. Now that she had made an impression, she had earned the right to send them invitations after her marriage. Whether they would attend depended on how attractively she promoted her gatherings.

After introducing Miss Jensen to the key figures, Miss Pendleton approached a group that could be of more immediate help: Miss Lance and her friends. Seated in the VIP section, they had been waiting with bored expressions, binoculars in hand, for the race to begin. Upon Miss Pendleton's approach, they stood and curtsied politely.

“Good day, Miss Pendleton.”

Miss Pendleton, returning their curtsy with equal propriety, introduced Miss Jensen to them.

“Good day, everyone. This is Miss Joan Jensen, who is engaged to my cousin, Charles Pendleton.”

Miss Jensen smiled at them. They were all delighted to finally meet the Miss Jensen of the great rumors. It was a welcome diversion from their boredom, and they immediately made room for them.

The conversation flowed smoothly. They asked Miss Jensen about American society, and she answered their questions with elegant and witty remarks. Comparing American and English etiquette and sharing amusing anecdotes that arose from the differences brought great amusement.

Watching them, Miss Pendleton felt a sense of relief. Miss Jensen had combined the flawless etiquette she had been taught with her own personality, capturing the young ladies' hearts in an instant.

Having won over the circle of Miss Lance, whose standing in London society was at its peak, Miss Jensen would now be invited to all manner of balls, dinners, parties, and outings. With her resourcefulness, it would be no trouble at all for Miss Jensen to use these connections to establish her place in society.

Just as Miss Pendleton predicted, Miss Lance immediately said to Miss Jensen,

“In a fortnight, our family will be hosting a ball. Please come with your godfather. You will, won’t you?”

Miss Jensen gladly accepted the invitation. A ball hosted by the Lance family. It was perfect.

Mrs. Lance, with a marriageable daughter, was known to be endlessly generous when it came to events that would make her daughter shine. At least five hundred people would be in attendance. It was the perfect opportunity to showcase Miss Jensen’s dazzling beauty to the people of London.

*Miss Jensen might just become a star before she’s even married.*

Pleased, Miss Pendleton gazed toward the lower Thames. There was still no sign of the rowers' boats.

Just then, her eyes caught a familiar gentleman among the crowd.

Miss Pendleton gasped. It was Ian Dalton.

At first, she thought she was mistaken. What on earth was he doing here, when he should be in Whitefield?

But she quickly shook her head. It was impossible to mistake him for someone else. Even though he was dressed in a perfectly ordinary outing attire of a clean ivory suit and a white hat, his tall frame and refined features were unlike those of any gentleman in London.

Miss Pendleton was not the only one who had spotted Mr. Dalton. Miss Lance had seen him too. Excusing herself to those around her, she hurried gracefully in his direction.

Soon, the two stood face to face, and Miss Lance extended her hand to Mr. Dalton as if it were second nature. Mr. Dalton naturally placed one arm behind his back and, with the other, took her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss. They remained standing there and began to converse.

Miss Pendleton, as well as Miss Lance’s three friends, naturally turned their gazes toward them. Seeing all the ladies around her looking in one direction, Miss Jensen also looked over at Mr. Dalton and Miss Lance.

“Is that gentleman Miss Lance’s lover?”

At Miss Jensen’s question, Miss Daisy Orson cried out in surprise.

“No. Not at all. He is a friend to us all. Just a friend.”

“That’s right. A friend. For now, at least.”

Miss Victoria Wilkes added with a subtle hint. Miss Susan Donovan, who was beside her, nudged her in the ribs, but a suspicious blush had spread across all three ladies' faces.

Miss Jensen was not one to miss such nuances. She mentally categorized Mr. Dalton as Miss Lance’s prospective fiancé.

Listening quietly to their conversation, Miss Pendleton asked,

“If I may ask, how long has Mr. Dalton been in London?”

“Hmm, it must be over a fortnight,”

Miss Wilkes sighed.

“Oh, has it been that long already? I’ve seen Mr. Dalton so often, I didn’t even realize.”

“Indeed. We’ve seen him almost every day. He visited for tea so frequently. Ah, Miss Pendleton, you must have heard the rumors? About the painting in Miss Lance’s drawing room. Mr. Dalton painted Miss Fairfax and Miss Lance. That was probably the very day he arrived in London, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s right. They say he painted for Miss Lance, forgetting his own fatigue. Oh, how romantic!”

Miss Lance’s friends chattered excitedly. Miss Pendleton listened to the ladies’ talk as she watched the pair. Miss Lance was looking up at Mr. Dalton, her face blooming like a flower in full blossom. Mr. Dalton’s expression as he looked back at her was exceedingly cordial.

Miss Pendleton remembered the Mr. Dalton she had seen in Hyde Park. The image of him treating a clinging Miss Lance with such stiffness. He was completely different now. While she didn't sense the affection Miss Lance's friends were implying, he seemed quite friendly.