Chapter 54

-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: The Last Ball (5)
-----------------------------------------------------------------

“Your dancing is impeccable. The only question now is whether you can charm a lady. You, Mr. Dalton, prefer bluntness to niceties, so you must be sure to conceal that.”

“Does my manner of speaking disgust you, Miss Pendleton?”

“It doesn't bother me in the least. To be frank, it's what I like most about you, Mr. Dalton. But that is only because I have been in society for so long that I have grown weary of all the pretense. Most ladies, however, treat the rules of etiquette as if they were scripture.”

“It sounds as if you’re telling me to completely hide my nature. Could you explain in a little more detail?”

“If a lady seems the least bit uncomfortable while you are speaking, change the subject at once. And you must praise everything she says, as if her every word and deed were the very definition of propriety. And though it may feel insincere, compliments on her attire are essential. Be specific and detailed. Mention her gown or her hair ornaments, for instance.”

“Hmm, you look quite splendid today, Miss Pendleton. The sky-blue dress your ladyship is wearing complements your gray eyes well. These flowers adorning your auburn hair are fragrant, but they cannot compare to your beauty.”

Miss Pendleton chuckled.

“Are you practicing on me?”

“Does it displease you?”

“Practice to your heart’s content. I don’t mind being used for your purposes, Mr. Dalton. And as I am a woman, a compliment on my beauty is never unwelcome.”

“Good heavens. Had I known my compliments would please you, Miss Pendleton, I would have offered them more often. From now on, whenever we meet, I shall have to lavish praise upon your dress and hairstyle. Until you strike me with your fan and tell me to stop out of sheer boredom.”

“If you hope for the day I strike you with my fan, you will be waiting until you are in your grave, and even then your wish will not be granted. I am not the sort of person to stop such lovely compliments.”

The waltz continued. Mr. Dalton, who had asked her to dance, moved with flawless grace. He could step out right now and dance with any lady, and she would fall in love with him after a single song. There was nothing more Miss Pendleton could teach him.

Though she knew this well, Miss Pendleton did not stop dancing. She did not want to let him go. This dance was the final waltz of her long life in society. From now on, as a lady, Miss Pendleton would never again be asked to dance by a gentleman.

That meant this was her last waltz with Ian Dalton.

Miss Pendleton finally felt the reality that her life in society was ending today. Ian Dalton. That she could never dance with this gentleman again. It also meant they could no longer share a friendship as equals.

The feelings for him she had buried deep in her heart stirred once more. The comfortable joy and happiness, the fondness she felt when she was with him, were trying to resurface. It was foolish.

She was conscious of the pearl pendant around her neck. The image of her mother, resting within it, appeared before her eyes. She buried her feelings deep once more.

“Miss Pendleton, I heard you are preparing to become a governess.”

Miss Pendleton looked up at him in surprise.

“...From whom did you hear that?”

“Let’s just say it was from one of your friends.”

Miss Pendleton thought of Mr. Fairfax. It must have been him. It was an open secret among her close circle, so he would have known. He had promised several times to arrange a governess position for her.

Miss Pendleton had no intention of hiding the fact that she was entering the workforce, so she was not particularly offended.

“That’s right.”

“By any chance, do you know Latin and Greek?”

“Yes.”

“In that case, how would you like to become the governess for my nephews, Daniel and George?”

“Daniel and George? You mean your eight- and ten-year-old nephews?”

“Yes. My sister asked me to find a suitable person in London. I’ve been quite busy lately searching for the right candidate.”

A governess to Mr. Dalton’s nephews. From what he had told her about the people at Dunvil Park, they were good people. Moreover, with an introduction from Mr. Dalton, there would be no fear of being exploited for wages or treated harshly.

But Miss Pendleton’s heart was not in his proposal. It was too soon to be thinking about employment while her grandmother was still alive. And on the other hand, she wanted to avoid, if at all possible, working in a place where she would have to face the future Mrs. Dalton.

“Taking on those little rascals sounds like too great a challenge. I don’t have the confidence.”

Miss Pendleton replied playfully on purpose. But Mr. Dalton’s response was quite serious.

“If you would take the position, Miss Pendleton, I will see to it that their habits are soundly corrected. They wouldn’t dream of misbehaving or talking back.”

Miss Pendleton shook her head.

“I need time to think. I haven’t even decided when I will start looking for a position.”

“Then take your time. I’ll continue looking at other candidates, so please don’t feel pressured in your choice.”

At his kind words, Miss Pendleton nodded.

With that, their conversation ceased. Only the music flowed between them. On the dark terrace, with only the moonlight to illuminate them.

Ian fixed his gaze on Miss Pendleton’s face, revealed in the moonlight. There was one reason he had asked her to dance. It was because dancing was the only time he could fix his gaze upon a lady’s face without being misunderstood.

He had gone to great lengths for nearly a month to get this chance to look his fill at Miss Pendleton, but now that he was actually looking at her face, his heart ached.

The moment he saw Miss Pendleton in the ballroom earlier, his heart had sunk. Her eyes were bloodshot and raw, her lips were chapped, and her cheeks were hollow. A face that looked both ill and deeply heartbroken. She had tried to conceal it with her gown and adornments, but she could not fool his eyes.

With such a face, Miss Pendleton had gone to meet Miss Jensen. Beside Miss Jensen was a middle-aged man, and he easily deduced that this man was Mr. Price.

Ian watched the two from a distance. Miss Jensen quickly left them, and Miss Pendleton and Mr. Price disappeared somewhere together.

He could not just stand there. He immediately followed Miss Pendleton. He didn't know what possessed her to meet with Mr. Price, but if that old lecher so much as tried anything untoward with Miss Pendleton, he was prepared to throw him off the terrace.

But the conversation he overheard from behind the curtain was unexpected. It had all been a misunderstanding. Mr. Price apologized to her repeatedly. Behind his disgraceful behavior was Gerald Pendleton, the de facto head of the Pendleton family.

Miss Pendleton’s uncle had tried to sell his own niece for the family’s gain. His hands clenched into fists of their own accord. His nails dug fiercely into his palms, but he could not bring himself to release them.

He had once been furious with Gerald Pendleton for not protecting her from Mr. Price’s shameless advances, but now his anger had turned to hatred.

To strike a deal involving his own niece. It was something he could not comprehend. Was he acting so cruelly because of the issue of Miss Pendleton’s birth? Whatever the reason, the man was no better than the scum of the earth.

But Miss Pendleton showed little surprise at his words. She simply comforted Mr. Price calmly, then politely declined the offer he made and sent him on his way.

For a while, Ian watched Miss Pendleton’s back as she stood alone, gazing out from the terrace. Her small frame, her slender waist. A silhouette so delicate it looked as if it might collapse at any moment.

What was she thinking? Resentment for her uncle? Humiliation? Indignation? He wanted to know what was in Miss Pendleton’s heart. He wanted her to confide everything in him.

He stepped out from behind the curtain and approached Miss Pendleton. He had asked her for a dance, wearing the mask of a friend.

Now, under the moonlight, he looked down at Miss Pendleton, held almost in his arms. She was smiling serenely up at him, but the signs of exhaustion were clear.

He could well imagine how much she must have suffered these past few days before making her recent choice. He had heard more than enough about that scoundrel Price’s behavior, and she had likely been pressured by her uncle as well.

But there was no trace of sadness or anguish in her expression. If anything, she looked rather relieved. At the very least, she did not regret her choice. Considering the authority the head of a family wielded and her various circumstances, it was an act of great courage.

He wanted to tell Miss Pendleton. Thank you for choosing to refuse Mr. Price. I want to help you so that you will not regret that choice. I would give you everything I have, if that is what you wanted.

His mind recalled the past days spent at his Whitefield office, sitting by the window and longing for her. How he had sketched her face on every white page of his sketchbook, wishing she were there before him.

As if his wish had been granted, she was here before his eyes. But his heart was still not content. He was merely her friend. A friend. The two of them, just friends. It was absurd. A ridiculous charade. He had never, not for a single moment, been able to see her as a friend. To him, she had always been, and only been, a woman.

‘Miss Pendleton. No, Laura. I am entirely yours. Stay by my side. Not as a friend, but as a lover. And as my wife. I will give you everything I have in return.’

He repeated the words in his mind. As he did, he squeezed the hand that rested in his.

“Ah!”

Miss Pendleton let out a short cry. Mr. Dalton stopped abruptly. His expression changed at the sight of her pained face.

“What is it?”

Miss Pendleton shook her head.

“It’s nothing. Come, let’s continue…”

But Mr. Dalton looked at the hand he was holding. Miss Pendleton tried to pull it away, but he held her wrist firmly.

“Are you hurt? Where?”

“I tripped over a stone while on a walk yesterday. I ended up spraining my finger.”

“That happened… Why did you come to the ball!”

“I’m fine. Truly. It’s nothing. Let’s finish the dance. I want to finish this song.”

Miss Pendleton looked at him with pleading eyes. At her gaze, Ian’s heart plummeted. He took her hand again. Very gently.

The two began to dance once more. But the comfortable atmosphere was gone. Miss Pendleton kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, on his chest. He could not read her expression.

He was terribly worried about her hand, but he could not focus on that alone. It was because of the look in Miss Pendleton’s eyes just now, when she had begged him to dance until the end. There was a desperation in her eyes.

His heart began to pound. She was desperate for this dance with him. It meant that this dance was not only meaningful to him, but to her as well.