Chapter 56

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: The Last Ball (7)
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As they moved to another part of the hall, the music was drawing to a close. Miss Lance and Mr. Fairfax, who had been dancing in the center of the spacious hall, came out hand in hand and spotted Miss Pendleton’s group. They joined them naturally.

While Mr. Fairfax was asking Miss Wilkes about his sister’s whereabouts, Miss Pendleton took Miss Lance by the arm and led her aside. Miss Lance was quite bewildered when Miss Pendleton suddenly pulled her into a corner.

Miss Pendleton led her to a deserted corner of the ballroom. After glancing around, she sat down with Miss Lance on an empty pair of chairs.

“Miss Lance, please listen without misunderstanding me. Will you promise me that?”

Miss Lance was rather surprised; she had never seen Miss Pendleton look so serious.

“Yes. Of course. What is it?”

“Are you, by any chance, engaged to Mr. Dalton?”

Miss Lance was taken aback by Miss Pendleton’s sudden question.

“Oh, no.”

Miss Pendleton pressed a hand to her forehead.

“Miss Lance. Just now, in the retiring room, a friend of yours was speaking as if the two of you were to be engaged. And not in a quiet voice. At least eighty people must have heard her.”

Miss Lance, her face flushing, asked,

“What? Who? Who said that? Oh, never mind. It's obvious. It must have been Victoria. That silly girl! Goodness, nothing is even certain yet. Why must she get so ahead of herself?”

Miss Lance fumed.

“She was talking about bridesmaid dresses, wasn't she? For the past few days, she’s been making a fuss, saying this color is better, or that color is better. I haven't even received a proposal yet. What is she thinking?”

Miss Pendleton watched Miss Lance in silence. Her reputation was hanging by a thread, yet Miss Lance seemed less concerned than one would expect.

“Miss Lance, this may be embarrassing, but could you be honest with me? Has Mr. Dalton given you any clear indication of marriage? Did he give you a letter promising to propose, or say he had you in mind as a marriage partner?”

Miss Lance stammered at the abrupt questions.

“W-well, no, but… I still believe it. I could feel it since his last visit to London. That he thinks well of me. And for the past month, he has always come to our tea parties, and…”

Miss Pendleton listened with a grave expression.

Miss Lance was flustered. Miss Pendleton was not showing the same look of certainty that her friends and mother wore whenever Mr. Dalton was mentioned.

Everyone around her always chirped in unison that Ian Dalton was in love with Dora Lance, and it was her job to temper their enthusiasm. But now, she found herself having to explain that Mr. Dalton loved her to a skeptical Miss Pendleton.

“He drew a picture of me, and promised we would go on a picnic together, and, um, when I told him I learned to play the harp, he said he wanted to see me play sometime. That he really wanted to see it. And…”

Miss Lance gradually realized how feeble her evidence sounded. Eventually, she fell silent.

A silence lingered between the two young ladies for a moment. Miss Lance glanced furtively at Miss Pendleton. Miss Pendleton, who had been listening quietly, had averted her gaze and seemed lost in thought.

“Miss Lance, please don't misunderstand what I'm about to say. I was the one who introduced you, and I wish for your union as much as your friends do… In fact, at this point, the only people who wouldn't wish for your union are your enemies. Because right now, Miss Lance, your reputation is on a precipice.”

“I don't understand what you mean…”

“Miss Lance, let me tell you a story about a lady I know. She has already left society, so please do not try to find the protagonist of this story among your acquaintances.”

Miss Lance nodded.

“She was a young lady who had just made her debut in society. She was shy and naive. She had no proper chaperone by her side, and her family was of modest standing, so there were often men who approached her with ill intentions. Lonely from failing to find a group to belong to, she lost her heart to one of the men who approached her.”

Miss Pendleton paused for a moment, glanced around once more, and then continued.

“The two fell in love quickly. At every ball, they danced only with each other, and at every dinner, they spoke only to each other. The woman believed she would marry him, so she paid no mind to the rumors. It seems the man also had thoughts of marrying her.”

“…”

“But the man's patron wanted him to be matched with a woman with a large dowry. The lady's dowry was small. In the end, they could not be together. The man left. He left the woman all alone in society. And not even two months later, news of his wedding arrived. He had married a woman with a great dowry. What do you suppose happened after that?”

“Did the woman… take her own life?”

Miss Lance displayed a melodramatic imagination. Miss Pendleton smiled bitterly.

“It would have been cleaner if she had. But she continued to attend social events at her parents' insistence. For years, she was followed by the label of being that man's lover, or his mistress, and rumors even spread that the two had set up a household together. After seven or eight years, the rumors faded and few remembered, but by then she was already a spinster and had suffered an irreversible wound. She… could not bear it, and had to marry a foreign tycoon thirty years her senior and leave England.”

Miss Lance listened to the story quietly. Miss Pendleton’s tale was a common one in society.

“Do you not understand why I am telling you this, Miss Lance?”

“No. To be honest…”

“Her misfortune may have been largely due to her circumstances. She had no circle to belong to, no proper advisor, no friend to hold her back. But the root cause of her misfortune was foolishness. She knew very well how terrifying rumors were in society, how easily a woman's reputation could be damaged. She was warned from all sides. Advice on conduct is always generously offered to a woman just entering society. But the moment she fell in love, she forgot. No, she thought it was of little consequence. Only love mattered. What ruined her life was her own foolishness.”

Miss Pendleton looked directly at Miss Lance.

“I believe there is a lesson for you to take from my story, Miss Lance. Think it over carefully and prepare for what is to come. If you need advice, you may come to me at any time.”

Miss Pendleton left Miss Lance and departed.

Miss Lance sat still, mulling over Miss Pendleton's words. Soon, her face flushed crimson. She understood the meaning behind her words. She was being warned that she was acting imprudently.

Miss Lance trembled with shame. To be compared to a woman who, blinded by love, dallied with a man without a proper promise, giving no thought to her reputation. It was a grave insult.

She could not understand why on earth Miss Pendleton would compare her to such a woman. Her relationship with Mr. Dalton was completely different from the story she told. Mr. Dalton was no scoundrel, and she was no foolish girl. And their relationship was entirely different from what she had described.

*‘Wait… is it different?’*

Miss Lance shook her head violently. What was she even doubting? He was completely smitten with her. Hadn't she always confirmed it in his gaze, his expression, his tone? Hadn't everyone around her offered objective testimony to his feelings? So what could possibly be the problem?

Miss Lance struggled to escape the very notion that he might not love her. It was too terrifying a thought. Her feelings had come too far to turn back. If she were to doubt his love, she felt she might die of despair that very moment.

She began to turn her thoughts toward denying Miss Pendleton's advice altogether. And she easily found a plausible reason. It was because of the speculation she had made earlier about the relationship between Mr. Dalton and Miss Pendleton.

Miss Lance hesitated before giving in to suspicion. It seemed only reasonable to doubt that the kind Miss Pendleton, the very person who had introduced her to Mr. Dalton, could be capable of such a cowardly act.

But the insult Miss Pendleton had just dealt to her pride was more than enough to paralyze her reason.

In the end, she began to think in a way that would put her own mind at ease—a way that turned the lady who had given her sound advice into a contemptible person.

*‘Miss Pendleton was spurned by Mr. Dalton and now holds a grudge. That's why she's trying to drive a wedge between him and me, now that things are going so well.’*

As if it had never been otherwise, Miss Lance's heart grew calm. The thought was rather sweet, too, for it allowed her to feel a sense of superiority by pitying the person who had wronged her.

But more than moral superiority, Miss Lance felt a sense of disappointment. For she had concluded that Miss Pendleton—whom she had always pitied and tried to treat without prejudice—had hurt her out of jealousy.

She had liked Miss Pendleton. The kind and pretty Miss Pendleton. The Miss Pendleton with the unfortunate story. The Miss Pendleton who suffered countless injustices because of her parents.

Miss Lance had always sympathized with her situation and tried to defend her whenever anyone spoke ill of her. To think this was the result of her efforts to be charitable.

*‘Yes, she must have loved Mr. Dalton too much. So much so that the possibility of him and I becoming engaged caused her to lose her reason. She is a good person, but even she is helpless in the face of love. With only strange men like Mr. Price courting her, Mr. Dalton must be her only hope. I shall pity her. As a fellow woman, I shall overlook her transgression.’*

Having settled her thoughts, Miss Lance returned to her friends.

She exercised a generous sympathy for Miss Pendleton and remained silent to her friends about the absurd thing she had done. After all, if her friends knew the truth, they would surely speak of Miss Pendleton in the most unspeakable terms.