Chapter 55

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 55
Chapter Title: The Last Ball (6)
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‘Could it be that Miss Pendleton has come to like me a little, just a little?’

At the thought, his heart began to beat even faster. He wished desperately that Miss Pendleton would show him her face. He wanted to see her face.

He longed to scrutinize the light in her eyes and the subtle shifts in her expression. He wanted to find within them even the smallest fragment of the hope that was dawning in his mind.

But Miss Pendleton did not show him her face until the music ended. As the dance concluded, she pulled away from him. Naturally, her hand slipped from his.

“It has been a while since I last danced, and I find myself a little tired. I believe I shall rest for a moment in the retiring room.”

“Allow me to escort you.”

“Mr. Dalton, you must hurry and reserve the next dance with the lady who has captured your heart. I shall go alone.”

Miss Pendleton avoided his eyes and tried to hurry inside.

“Miss Pendleton, a moment…”

He took hold of her arm.

Miss Pendleton looked at him. He was gazing at her earnestly with his jet-black eyes. She turned her head away from him.

A moment ago, she had begged him to continue the waltz, and the memory of it filled her with shame. She had clung to him, unwilling to let their final dance be cut short. She feared that, in doing so, she might have revealed her heart.

“Do not avoid my gaze.”

Miss Pendleton shook her head.

“I cannot let you go like this. I am worried about you.”

“Please, do not worry about me, Mr. Dalton.”

“Miss Pendleton, do you recall a letter in which I once wrote that I would forever be your faithful servant? Do you remember?”

“Yes.”

“That offer still stands. I am your faithful servant, no matter what situation you may find yourself in. So please, say anything. I am prepared to do whatever it takes for you.”

Her eyes wavered. His warm words suddenly brought back the miserable events of yesterday. The insults and abuse that had been hurled at her. She felt an urge to burst into tears right then and there. She wanted to fall into his arms, tell him everything about yesterday, and be comforted by him.

But it remained merely a fantasy. Miss Pendleton smiled and gently removed his hand from where it held her.

“Thank you, Mr. Dalton. You are also my most precious friend. A friend I would not trade for anyone in the world.”

With only those words, Miss Pendleton left the terrace.

Mr. Dalton watched her retreating figure, unable to say a word. Her most precious friend. One she would not trade for anyone. Her words pierced his fluttering heart like a thorn. He was her friend. Just a friend, who would surely be cast aside if he dared to hope for more.

The confession that had been swirling in his mind scattered and vanished. He stood there for a long time. Alone.

* * *

Miss Pendleton left the terrace and re-entered the ballroom. The number of guests in the hall had swelled by at least a hundred since she first arrived. The heated air invaded her lungs.

The stifling heat and the clamorous din. Miss Pendleton’s unsettled heart grew even more disoriented.

She wove her way through the crowd. A few gentlemen asked her for a dance along the way, but Miss Pendleton refused them. She was in no mood to dance. She walked straight toward the ladies’ retiring room.

The ladies’ retiring room was already packed with people.

There was a lady having the seam of her skirt mended by an attendant seamstress, ladies re-tying the ribbon knots in each other’s hair, ladies checking their appearance in the mirror, ladies simply sitting and chatting comfortably amongst themselves, and even ladies hiding to avoid becoming wallflowers.

It seemed as though a fifth of all the ladies attending the ball had gathered here.

The room was so crowded that she could not find a place to sit. She was about to turn and leave when she heard a familiar voice.
She turned her head. The speaker was Miss Victoria Wilkes. She was having the back of her skirt mended by a seamstress while sharing pastries with Miss Susan Donovan.

“Yes, I’m sure he’ll ask for a waltz today… Oh, Miss Pendleton!”

Miss Wilkes had spotted Miss Pendleton.

“Come over here, this way. There’s a spot next to me!”

Miss Pendleton was about to shake her head, but Miss Donovan, who was beside her, joined in, waving both arms wildly in their direction and shouting.

“Hurry, Miss Pendleton! Quickly!”

They called to her with an enthusiasm that seemed intended to make up for the failure of their earlier plan to be rid of her in the ballroom. Miss Pendleton looked at them, feeling troubled. She had wanted to sit quietly among strangers and compose her emotions.

But having been spotted by ladies she knew, Miss Pendleton could not ignore them. She approached them.

“Did you come to have your dress mended? Or is a decoration askew? We can help you.”

Miss Donovan asked kindly.

“No. I just thought I would rest for a moment.”

“Oh, then rest with us. Here, have a seat.”

Miss Victoria Wilkes moved a cushion from the seat beside her to make room. Miss Pendleton willingly sat down next to them.

But once Miss Pendleton, whom they had so eagerly summoned, was seated beside them, they promptly turned their attention away from her. The two put their heads together again and resumed their hushed conversation.

“I did end up dancing this quadrille with Mr. Fairfax, but I’ll probably dance the next waltz with Mr. Dalton.”

Ah, they were talking about Miss Lance and her dance partners. Miss Pendleton accepted a glass of lemonade from a servant and moistened her lips, listening to their conversation in silence.

“Do you think so? I haven’t seen Mr. Dalton anywhere. Such a shame. To dance the first waltz with Mr. Fairfax. He may be handsome, but he’s only the second son. My mother says all the real assets went to the older brother. The land he owns is minuscule, and his country house is too small to even be called a grand estate.”

“Well, compared to Mr. Dalton, he falls far short. It may be rude to say, but he doesn't hold a candle to Dora as a potential match. Dora’s partner is Mr. Dalton. In terms of prospects, family… Oh, and especially looks!”

“That’s right, he’s so handsome, Mr. Dalton is.”

“This social season is winding down starting next month. There will probably be a wedding before autumn. The day Dora Lance becomes Dora Dalton isn’t far off. I guarantee it.”

Miss Pendleton’s heart sank heavily at their conversation. Ah, if Miss Lance’s closest companions were speaking with such certainty, it must mean that she and Mr. Dalton were secretly engaged. As she had thought, the lady who had captured Mr. Dalton’s heart was Miss Lance.

Miss Pendleton took another sip of her lemonade to wet her throat and composed her thoughts.

Yes, Mr. Dalton’s match was decided. Mr. Dalton was to be united with Miss Lance. Another perfect couple was about to be born in London society. It was a good thing for her. And for Miss Lance. And for Mr. Dalton. All that was left was for her to bury these feelings and put them in order.

However, what the two ladies said next threw her into confusion.

“But when on earth is Mr. Dalton going to propose?”

“Who knows. Today, tomorrow. But it’s clear he has Dora in his heart, so that won’t be an issue. Let’s just start thinking about our bridesmaid dresses. I like pink, what about you?”

“Oh, Victoria. That’s for the bride to choose… But I like lavender.”

The two began to rattle off various shades that would suit their complexions. All the while, Miss Pendleton, sitting beside them, had turned completely pale.

What on earth were these ladies talking about? They were not yet engaged?

Miss Pendleton instinctively looked around. All the ladies who filled the retiring room were silent. They pretended not to be, but all their ears were tilted toward the two speakers.

It was understandable. Miss Lance was the most beautiful lady out in society. It was only natural that they would be curious about her romantic affairs.
Miss Pendleton’s head swam. There had to be well over eighty ladies gathered here. What would happen if these ladies went about repeating what they had just heard? What if it became exaggerated into a rumor that the two were lovers, that they were already engaged?

If Miss Lance and Mr. Dalton were indeed firmly engaged, it wouldn’t matter, but if the match did not come to pass, Miss Lance’s reputation would be impossible to restore on her own.

In society, once a man and woman were rumored to be a couple, the label would follow them for at least four or five years. And that label was fatal for a lady. Miss Pendleton knew this well. She couldn’t help but know.

Miss Pendleton quickly spoke to Miss Wilkes.

“Where are the others in your party right now?”

“Miss Lance is dancing with Mr. Fairfax. Miss Orson is probably chatting with Miss Janet Fairfax on a bench near the fountain.”

“How much longer on the skirt repair?”

Miss Pendleton asked the seamstress. The seamstress, who had been crouched behind Miss Wilkes’s skirt, snipped the knotted thread with a pair of small scissors and said.

“It is done.”

The moment the words were out, Miss Pendleton urged the two ladies to rejoin their party at once. The two ladies wanted to sit and chat longer. But when Miss Pendleton mentioned that Miss Lance would be looking for them after the dance, they quickly rose to their feet.

Miss Wilkes and Miss Donovan carelessly tossed the plates they had been eating from to the seamstress, who had been crouched for over twenty minutes mending their skirts, and followed Miss Pendleton out of the retiring room.

Even as she pushed through the crowd with the two ladies to leave the room, Miss Pendleton felt as if someone were pulling her hair from behind. The curious eyes of the ladies gathered in the retiring room clung to them, holding them in place.

The hungry gazes of ladies craving gossip.

What would the owners of those gazes say about Miss Lance and Mr. Dalton? Miss Pendleton felt a sense of despair. It was already too late. Miss Lance would not be able to escape the rumors. The only hope now was for Mr. Dalton and Miss Lance to actually get engaged.