Chapter 58

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 58
Chapter Title: Lady Abigail (2)
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The lady stared intently at her son. Though the narrow keyhole offered an imperfect view, his displeased expression was unmistakable.

“If Laura returns from the ball tonight and says she'll marry Price, I will tell her this: if she doesn't want to see me hang myself before my time is due, she is to break off that engagement at once. Does she think I raised her like a precious jewel only to send her off to some pot-bellied old man?”

“Mother!”

“Be quiet, Gerald Pendleton. How dare you raise your voice at your own mother!”

Anne's eyes widened. It was a thunderous rebuke, the likes of which she hadn't heard from her mistress in a long time. Gerald Pendleton stared blankly at his mother for a moment before pacing the room, trying to cool his temper. But his face only grew redder.

“Mother, is it possible... Is that why you reconciled with me? To leave an inheritance to that girl, Laura Pendleton?”

The lady said nothing.

“So you had a hidden agenda all along? You welcomed me so kindly just to give Laura a few pennies of the share meant for Charles! Mother, this is too much. Did you wish to deceive your only son, even on your deathbed?”

“And were you any different? Didn't you come here to protect Charles's inheritance? The way you and Charles fawned over me was so insincere I could hardly bear to watch. But a promise is a promise. Thanks to that promise, I was able to raise Laura as a Pendleton, so I am content. And you must have found it a satisfactory deal as well, being able to give all my fortune to your son.”

“Yes, it *was* satisfactory! Very satisfactory! I wouldn't be using the past tense if you had simply kept your word, Mother!”

“Yes, your use of the past tense is a pity to me as well, my dear boy.”

The lady sneered.

“You are playing games with me over an inheritance that was already promised. You are blackmailing me with your will!”

“So you do know that I can change my will as I please? Yes, that must be why you came running the moment you sensed I was near death, putting on such a charming act. But my dear boy, I have not the slightest intention of taking money away from Charles.”

The lady sighed.

“To be honest, I was tempted. Your son Charles is a creature in whom I can find not a speck of worth, no matter how hard I look. Leaving money to such a boy is the same as throwing it away in the street. But still, a promise is a promise. I will not change the will. I will leave my fortune to Charles. However, I am only asking that you give five thousand pounds of it to Laura. Just five thousand pounds out of three hundred thousand.”

“Laura Pendleton has already received more than she deserves. All this time, living in luxury in a noble house...!”

“That was her right as Dolores Pendleton's daughter.”

“Mother!”

“You act as if Laura is a stranger's child, as if she did not come from Dolores Pendleton. But just as surely as Dolores came from my womb, Laura came from Dolores. Even if you are the head of the Pendleton family, you cannot sever the bond between a mother and her child!”

“You're always like this, Mother. How can you be so unchanging?”

Gerald seethed.

“You've been this way since I was a child. For the crime of playing with your golden thimble, you kept me in the nursery for over half a day. Yet when Dolores lost that same thimble, you forgave her with a single lisping word uttered through her whining. 'Our Dolores,' 'sweet Dolores.' I heard it until I was sick of it. Sick of it! And now that Dolores is dead, it's become 'our Laura,' 'sweet Laura.'”

“Is that it? Are you so resentful because I never said 'our Gerald,' 'sweet Gerald'?”

Gerald said nothing.

“You wouldn't remember, would you? Your mother nursing you every night when you fell from a tree and dislocated your shoulder. And you've surely erased the memory of your mother sending you letters every single week for five years after you enrolled at Eton. There was never a time I did not love you. But you always liked to compare. In your calculating eyes, your mother's love was never enough. Rather than pitying your younger sister, who was six years your junior and frail, you envied and hated her.”

“...”

“From a very young age, Dolores's body was always mottled with bruises from your fists. There was a reason she ran away with that American man. Because if you returned home to become the head of the family, you would have surely taken revenge on the child who had captured your mother's affection. She chose love rather than be sold for money to a man she didn't even know.”

Silence fell between them. The long speech had left the lady's face as white as a corpse. Gerald Pendleton glared at his mother, then let out a short, cynical laugh.

“As a child, I often thought you weren't my real mother. It was more convenient that way. But now I understand. You are my birth mother. Where else would my calculating nature have come from? I concede. Five thousand pounds, give it to Laura. I don't know what good it will do her, but with that money, she might be able to marry a merchant or an apothecary, someone befitting her station.”

Gerald Pendleton added with a sneer.

“But just you watch what I do to Laura the moment you die, Mother. Watch clearly from the heavens. She will not be allowed to see your body. I will not let her toss a single handful of dirt on your coffin as you are buried. I will ensure she is barred not only from your funeral but from coming anywhere near your grave!”

Gerald Pendleton stormed out of the room. Anne, holding the tray, quickly stepped aside. He glared at her standing by the door before stomping downstairs. His bellowed order to a servant on the first floor to prepare the carriage echoed through the house.

Anne entered the lady's room with the tray. Her mistress was sitting up in bed, leaning against the headboard, her face pale. Anne approached her. Her entire face was slick with a cold sweat.

Anne quickly took a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe the sweat from her face. But the lady grabbed Anne's wrist and spoke.

“Go down to John at once and tell him. Tell him to bring my solicitor and my agent, Mr. Naysmith, immediately. As quickly as possible. Before I die...”

The lady could not finish. She lost consciousness right then and there.

***

“The solicitor had already left his office, so he couldn't be brought here, and Mr. Naysmith visited earlier, but he left again when my lady couldn't regain consciousness. They will both visit early tomorrow morning.”

Miss Pendleton said nothing. Throughout the story, she had been repeatedly startled and shocked, but the emotion that ultimately remained was sorrow. Miss Pendleton buried her face in her hands.

She had thought her grandmother was spending the end of her life in happiness, that she had reconciled with her uncle and was preparing to depart in peace. But her grandmother was spending the most frail and difficult time of her life fighting. For her.

“...Anne. You really did hear everything, from beginning to end.”

Anne and Miss Pendleton looked toward the bed. Her grandmother was looking at them, her eyes hazily open. Miss Pendleton rushed to her grandmother's side.

“Grandmother, when did you wake up?”

Her grandmother stroked her tear-stained cheek with a weak hand.

“You went and showed off your beauty to your heart's content, I trust?”

Miss Pendleton smiled sadly and nodded.

“Good. Well done. Well done.”

Her grandmother reached for her granddaughter's hand. Miss Pendleton took her grandmother's hand and caressed it.

“As you heard, five thousand pounds will go to you, Laura. It is a large sum, yet it is also small.”

“For that... is that why you've been trying so hard to be on good terms with Uncle all this time?”

Lady Abigail only smiled without answering. Her expression was a stark contrast to her granddaughter's, who looked on the verge of tears.

“Why such a long face? Do you dislike the five thousand pounds? Is it too little?”

Miss Pendleton shook her head.

“Grandmother, I'm going to become a governess. I'll earn money that way.”

“A governess? You could work your whole life and not afford a house. With five thousand pounds, you may not be wealthy, but you can support yourself. You could open a small shop, or marry a man who loves you for who you are.”

“...Grandmother, you always said you weren't afraid of death. That there was nothing to fear when you could meet Dolores waiting in heaven. But Grandmother, it also means parting forever with another child you have on this earth. Are you all right with ending things this way? Even if you can never reconcile with Uncle?”

“Laura, I'm sorry, but there can be no true reconciliation with him. If he truly wanted to reconcile, he is the sort of man who would first demand I spit on Dolores's grave. Then he would tell me to abandon you forever. To kick you out of the house before I die. I would rather die than do that. So it is impossible. I knew it from the very beginning. It's impossible in this lifetime.”

Lady Abigail squeezed her granddaughter's hand, her own hand trembling.

“The only reason I brought your uncle into this was for you. I was afraid of what he might do to you if I changed the will rashly. If I left you the entire fortune without his agreement, he would surely try to take it even if it meant taking your life. I wanted to leave you at least a small portion with his consent.”

Tears were now streaming down Miss Pendleton's face. They flowed without stopping. Her body trembling, Miss Pendleton began to sob.

“Finally, I get to see you cry your heart out. I am glad I can take this image with me. At some point, you became like an emotionless doll, didn't you? A placid smile. Considerate actions. A graceful demeanor. As if that was all you knew how to do... By the time I realized I had made you that way, I was already too old. I am sorry, Laura.”

Miss Pendleton could not stop her tears. She needed to say something, anything, to stop crying and ease her grandmother's burden, but the sobs would not cease. When the truth she had tried so hard to hide came pouring from her grandmother's lips, all she could do was weep.

“When I first introduced you to society, it was as if my dead Dolores had come back to life. When you hosted parties, played the piano before guests, and wore gowns to dance with gentlemen, I felt you were enjoying everything Dolores would have, had she not died. That made me happy.”

Lady Abigail shook her head.

“I was foolish. So very foolish. You are not Dolores. Blinded by my desire to bring my daughter back to life, I only belatedly recognized the sorrow in your heart. The scorn you endured in society. The long years of hardship, where you had to kill everything inside you to survive. I am sorry. Truly sorry. I am sorry that my greed made you live such an unhappy life.”

Lady Abigail grasped her granddaughter's hand tightly.

“Laura. From now on, live as you please. You are free now.”