Chapter 51

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 51
Chapter Title: The Last Ball (2)
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Miss Pendleton found Miss Lance rather endearing. Despite living surrounded by praise, she delighted in every compliment like a child. In society, one was less likely to be gossiped about if they revealed only half of their true feelings. But when she was happy, she simply didn’t know how to contain her joy.

*A sign of her unspoiled nature, I suppose.*

Miss Pendleton reflected on her own innocence. It was a quality that had long since been worn away by her trials and tribulations in society.

“Excuse me, Miss Pendleton.”

Miss Susan Donovan, one of the young ladies who had been whispering amongst themselves behind her, stepped forward and called out to Miss Pendleton.

“Yes?”

“Don’t your legs ache? Why don’t you go and sit in the ladies’ lounge over there?”

Miss Pendleton politely declined the offer.

“No, thank you. I’ve only just arrived.”

“I know, but the ball hasn’t even properly begun yet. It’s best you leave when the fun is at its peak, isn’t it?”

Miss Lance’s eyes widened as she looked at her friend. Miss Susan Donovan, who had stepped forward, was sweating profusely, while Miss Wilkes and Miss Orson stood behind her, watching with clenched fists as if cheering her on.

*What are they doing?* Miss Lance tilted her head in confusion.

Miss Pendleton, on the other hand, had a good grasp of her intentions. For some reason, she was considered an eyesore and they wanted to tuck her away in the lounge. Having grown so accustomed to the scorn of society, Miss Pendleton could read their intentions from their expressions alone.

Normally, she would have complied. She had lived her life repeating to herself that sometimes, to lose was to win. But not today. Today, she had something she needed to do.

Without losing her composure, Miss Pendleton politely refused.

“Thank you ever so much. But I have some business with Miss Jensen, who will be attending today.”

“When Miss Jensen arrives, I’ll tell her and have her sent to the lounge. I’m truly! Truly! Worried about you, Miss Pendleton. I’m afraid you might get dizzy from standing for so long. And at your age, you shouldn’t overexert yourself.”

A soft snort was heard from behind. Miss Wilkes couldn’t contain her laughter at the rude slip of the tongue Miss Donovan had made in her haste to come up with an excuse.

“Thank you for your concern, Miss Donovan.”

Miss Pendleton responded with a dignified smile as the young ladies, so much younger than herself, made a fool of her. In times like these, it was best to act as if she knew nothing at all.

But Miss Lance was not of the same mind. She frowned openly. Though she didn’t know her friends’ intentions, she had a strong feeling they were conspiring to be rude to Miss Pendleton.

She linked her arm through Miss Pendleton’s.

“Susan, that’s enough. It would be a loss for me if Miss Pendleton, who has come looking so beautiful, were to disappear into the lounge. She must stay here in the ballroom and grace my ball with her presence.”

Miss Donovan flinched and looked at her friends. Miss Wilkes and Miss Orson stared at Miss Lance with wide, round eyes.

Ignoring them, Miss Lance spoke to Miss Pendleton.

“Miss Pendleton, for the next dance, all my friends have partners promised. I’m the only one without a partner, so I’ll be all alone. Please, stay by my side and keep me company. Won’t you?”

Miss Pendleton was grateful for Miss Lance’s kindness.

“With pleasure, Miss Lance.”

For the next few minutes, Miss Lance spoke only with Miss Pendleton. The three young ladies who had stepped forward for their queen were suddenly left out in the cold. Reading the reprimand in Miss Lance’s disregard for them, the ladies stood there, utterly mortified and crestfallen.

The music ended, and the people dancing on the floor scattered. The cotillion was about to begin. Gentlemen approached the ladies with whom they had promised a dance and led them to the floor.

The friends who had been shunned by Miss Lance hid their hurt feelings and left for the dance floor with their partners.

Only Miss Lance and Miss Pendleton remained. The two made small talk about the people who had come to the ball. Their conversation, however, was constantly interrupted by gentlemen who approached to ask for a dance.

Unlike usual, Miss Pendleton was receiving many invitations. But of course, it was nothing compared to the number Miss Lance received. As the belle of the ball and the most beautiful maiden in London, she was inundated with requests from gentlemen. Yet, she refused every single one.

Miss Pendleton could guess the reason why Miss Lance kept declining the invitations. As they talked, she would often glance toward the ballroom entrance. She was clearly waiting for someone.

Miss Pendleton could easily predict who that person might be. And as if to confirm her prediction, Miss Lance asked a question.

“By the way, is it true that a Whitefield painting is hanging in your drawing room, Miss Pendleton?”

Miss Pendleton replied softly.

“Yes, Miss Lance.”

“I’m so envious. How did you acquire such a precious painting?”

“Mr. Dalton noticed the empty space in the drawing room and presented it to me.”

“Oh my, how thoughtful of him.”

“Yes. He is a very considerate man.”

Miss Lance’s eyes sparkled at Miss Pendleton’s praise.

“You see it too, don’t you, Miss Pendleton? That he is a man of great compassion. He’s the very picture of what an English gentleman should be, don't you think? So kind, and proper, and witty, and kind… Oh, did I already say he was kind? Well, he’s simply perfect. I cannot thank you enough for introducing me to Mr. Dalton.”

Miss Pendleton offered a suitable agreement.

“And at the picnic the other day, wasn’t he magnificent rowing the boat? The way his hair blew in the wind was like a scene from a painting. To think he has such a princely face, and yet such a solid build. I’ve never seen a man as handsome as him in all my life.”

An endless stream of praise for Mr. Dalton poured from Miss Lance’s lips. As she spoke, her beautiful eyes shone as if filled with twinkling stars. She seemed to have fallen completely in love.

*Mr. Dalton is certainly a lucky man. To have so thoroughly captured the heart of a lady as beautiful as Miss Lance.*

Miss Pendleton thought calmly.

“Oh, that’s right. The picnic reminded me. When you had to leave in such a hurry… Mr. Dalton followed after you, looking for you. Did something happen?”

For a moment, Miss Pendleton was too surprised to speak. The question struck a raw nerve. Her face flushed as she recalled the events of that day.

“…Oh, nothing at all. We simply took a walk together.”

“Really? But the look on Mr. Dalton’s face when he was searching for you seemed quite serious…”

“I couldn’t say, I really don’t know. We just walked without incident. We talked about Whitefield, and then I had to leave because something urgent came up at home… Ah, it must have been because I left my handkerchief behind. I remember now.”

Miss Lance stared intently at Miss Pendleton. It was the first time she had ever seen Miss Pendleton so flustered. Miss Pendleton’s gaze darted here and there, avoiding hers.

Sensing her discomfort, Miss Lance quickly changed the subject. The two engaged in some disinterested conversation about the current social season. Miss Pendleton soon suppressed her agitation and returned to her usual gentle self.

But even as Miss Lance spoke, her mind was still mulling over what had just happened.

*Why did she act so strangely? Did something happen between them? Is Miss Pendleton lying to me right now?*

If it had been about anyone else, she would have feigned ignorance for Miss Pendleton’s sake, but since it involved Mr. Dalton, Miss Lance couldn’t simply let it go.

Mr. Dalton and Miss Pendleton were clearly friends. Though they were of the opposite sex, no one in London suspected anything about their relationship. As Mr. Dalton was related by marriage to Mr. Fairfax, Miss Pendleton’s closest male friend, it was not strange for him to be close to her.

And above all, Mr. Dalton was the head of one of the most prestigious families in England, and an investor whose vast fortune multiplied daily.

Miss Pendleton, on the other hand, was a twenty-nine-year-old spinster with no dowry and a questionable bloodline. To suspect their relationship was absurd. There was no realistic possibility of them ever being united, and such speculation would be an insult to Mr. Dalton.

“Good evening, Miss Lance.”

“Hello, Miss Lance.”

Lost in thought, Miss Lance gave a start. She had been so preoccupied that she hadn’t noticed the Fairfax siblings approaching her.

The arrival of the Fairfaxes meant that Ian Dalton, the man she had been so eagerly awaiting, must have arrived as well. And sure enough, standing next to Mr. Fairfax was Mr. Dalton, looking as dashing as ever in his evening attire. Miss Lance quickly composed herself and curtsied.

“Good evening, Mr. Fairfax. Miss Fairfax. Oh, and Mr. Dalton, you’ve come too!”

Mr. Dalton gave her a polite nod.

Mr. Fairfax spoke to her with his usual warmth, but Miss Lance didn’t hear a word.

All of Miss Lance’s attention was fixed on Mr. Dalton. He was smiling at her as he usually did. To her, he seemed far more handsome than usual. His smooth black hair was neatly swept back, revealing beautiful ivory skin. His features were elegant. He looked like a Greek god.

He possessed a refined beauty that one could never tire of seeing. It was as if his inner virtues—dignity, nobility, and goodness—radiated from his face. She gazed at him as if looking upon something divine.

Mr. Dalton smiled at her, then turned his gaze to Miss Pendleton. Miss Lance watched with a pang of regret as his eyes moved away from her.

“Good evening, Miss Pendle—”

He, who had been offering a gentle greeting, suddenly stopped speaking. He stared intently at Miss Pendleton’s face. In an instant, his expression hardened, his previous cordiality vanishing without a trace. And his gaze grew intensely sharp.

Miss Lance, who had been watching him with curiosity, was shocked. It was the first time she had ever seen such a frightening expression on his face.

Until now, she had only ever seen a polite and gentlemanly demeanor from Mr. Dalton. With that expression, he seemed like a different person from moments before. It was a terrifying look.

Miss Lance turned to look at Miss Pendleton, the recipient of his gaze. Miss Pendleton was looking toward the ballroom entrance. Just then, Miss Jensen and Mr. Price were entering, arm in arm.

Miss Pendleton excused herself from the group, explaining that she had business with Miss Jensen, and left.

Miss Lance was shocked once again. Mr. Dalton continued to watch her retreating figure. His gaze was incredibly fierce.

Her intuition already heightened by her earlier conversation with Miss Pendleton, Miss Lance sensed a disturbing undercurrent from Mr. Dalton.

*What on earth? Why would he look so frighteningly at Miss Pendleton, a friend he’s so close to that he gifted her a private Whitefield painting? Could they have had some sort of argument? But what kind of argument?*

A dispute between a gentleman and a lady was unheard of. A gentleman must always treat a lady with courtesy and strive to please her. That was the etiquette of society, the code of a gentleman. If a quarrel were to ever occur between a man and a woman, there could be only one reason.

Love.