Chapter 78

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: A New Life (9)
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Daniel threw his arms up and cheered.

George, who returned late, collapsed in his seat, mortified to learn that his older brother had claimed victory first. Laura helped him up and offered gentle encouragement. Though George remained upset for a while, he didn't lunge at his brother with his fists.

Not only did he not want to show such a side of himself in front of his teacher, but with Uncle Ian sitting beside her, his eyes wide open, it was something he wouldn't dare to dream of.

After the word-finding game, it was soon time for dinner again. The four of them walked toward the mansion, crossing the fields where shadows deepened beneath the blades of grass, toward the house bathed in an orange glow.

Laura sat across from him at dinner and then moved naturally with the family to the drawing-room. Mr. Fairfax had gone down to the basement to clean the guns he had used on the hunting grounds that day, but the rest of the family had gathered in the drawing-room.

Olivia played the piano, which she was practicing with great vigor, and Ian taught George and Daniel to play billiards. Laura sat beside Mrs. Fairfax, holding her embroidery frame. It was a peaceful evening filled with the sound of the piano and the occasional click of billiard balls.

Laura, watching Mrs. Fairfax move her needle by the lamplight, asked.

“Does Mr. Dalton come to sketch often?”

Mrs. Fairfax glanced toward Mr. Dalton and nodded.

“It’s been his lifelong hobby.”

“Since when did he start painting?”

“Probably right after I got married, so he would have been eight. He could come and play at Donville Park anytime, but he couldn’t come every day. Left alone at Whitefield Hall, he had nothing to occupy his heart, so he focused even more on his drawing. Thanks to that, he managed well even after I left. Did he show you his sketches?”

“Yes.”

“He’s quite good, isn’t he?”

“It hardly felt like a hobby.”

“That’s right. He’s skilled enough to be a painter if he wanted to. He had artistic talent from a young age. If he’d been born a second son, he might have become quite famous as a painter, but it’s a shame he was born the eldest son of the Dalton family, forced to keep his greatest talent as a mere hobby. Well, he does a splendid job managing the estate, I suppose.”

“Since he loves Whitefield so dearly, not becoming a painter is likely not a great misfortune for him.”

Mrs. Fairfax looked at Laura.

“I always feel you have a rather good grasp of Ian.”

“It’s not so much that I have a grasp of him… I’m just saying what I feel. Even when he was in London, he always looked so happy whenever he spoke of Whitefield. It wasn’t just the pride of boasting about property. It was like…”

Laura chose her words carefully.

“I felt a sense of pride and love. The kind one might feel for a child. To live in a place you love, and to have the cultivation of that place be your life’s work… I thought Mr. Dalton was very fortunate.”

“He is fortunate in that respect. Most of these noble scoundrels are indifferent to their own estates, except when it comes to bragging to others. They spend money to decorate and manage them only to enhance their own reputations. But to Ian, Whitefield is like his own bloodline. It is his roots and his parents, his comfort and his happiness. Perhaps it’s a kind of destiny for those born at Whitefield. Once you fall in love with the white woods of Whitefield, you can never escape that love.”

***

That night, Laura entered her room and sat in a chair. After a moment of thought, she pulled out her trunk and rummaged through it. Tucked inside was a square object wrapped in a white lace shawl. Laura carefully lifted it and carried it to her desk. Then, she unwrapped the lace shawl. There lay the painting of Whitefield he had once gifted her.

Laura gazed at the painting by the light of the lamp. She felt that by looking at it, she could see just how much he loved Whitefield.

In truth, she had never examined this painting so closely before. After first receiving it, she had simply hung it in the drawing-room, and whenever her gaze chanced upon it, her complicated emotions would cause her to quickly look away.

So, this was the first time she was truly seeing the painting. For about twenty minutes, she stared at it. The meticulously detailed depiction of the forest and the mansion. The wave of dazzlingly beautiful colors painted over the scene.

She took in the colors and forms with her eyes, processed them with her mind, and finally accepted them with her heart. Then, without difficulty, she perceived the emotion with which he must have wielded his brush. An emotion beyond technical skill. It was love.

A clear realization dawned in Laura’s mind.

‘Mr. Dalton truly loves Whitefield.’

The moment she realized it, her heart began to pound. It was as if his love had been transferred to her. She even felt as though she could fall in love with Whitefield, a place she had never seen.

Thanks to the extensive art education afforded to ladies, she had a good eye for paintings. She had seen works that depicted objects with precise accuracy, and many that portrayed nature with dreamlike beauty.

However, it was not often one saw a painting that could make the viewer fall in love with its subject. If that were possible, it would fall into the category of brilliant art.

‘Mr. Dalton is a brilliant artist.’

With that thought, Laura stood the painting on a corner of her dressing table. His work was far too valuable to be kept locked away in a trunk.

***

Donville Park grew greener by the day. In the mornings, Laura would stroll with Olivia, and they would sit on a cool bench, conversing in French. Olivia spoke haltingly in French, and Laura gently corrected her grammar.

When it came to studying French with Laura, Olivia was an obedient student. At first, she had tried being prim and snappy, but as soon as she saw that Laura spoke French as fluently as Jeanne, who had been French herself, she abandoned her insolent attitude.

Olivia, though childish in some ways, was a girl who knew to curb her temper in front of someone who possessed something she needed.

Olivia realized that Laura had many excellent qualities, and she decided to set aside her childish jealousy and learn everything she possibly could. And she was a clever enough girl to know that what she could learn from Laura was not limited to just French.

About forty days after Laura’s arrival, Olivia received an invitation to her friend Lydia’s birthday party. Having been absent from social events for the past month while engrossed in her studies, Olivia was thrilled. She dressed up early in the morning and rushed to her friend’s mansion.

All of Olivia’s friends were quite surprised to see her after a month. Olivia’s gait was calmer than before, and her speech and expression had become as elegant as a noble lady’s. Her friends each sensed that there must be a reason for Olivia’s change.

Their surprise grew even greater when Olivia played a piece by Chopin for the birthday girl, Lydia, and then recited a poem with a fluency in French that was incomparable to her former self.

Olivia felt a secret delight at her friends’ awestruck reactions. For the past month, she had observed and mimicked her new teacher Laura’s every move precisely for this kind of response.

Olivia continued, completely captivating the atmosphere by sharing stories of high society she had heard from Laura. Her friends all listened in amazement. The actual star of the birthday party, Lydia, was pushed to the sidelines.

Lydia, a young lady whose vanity was no less than Olivia’s, felt her mood sour and her cheeks puffed out. But her friends were oblivious to her state. The stories Olivia told about London’s high society were simply too fascinating.

For young ladies a few years away from their debut, there was no topic more captivating than tales of high society. And until now, that subject had been the exclusive domain of Lydia, who had a cousin who had debuted in London.

However, Miss Christine Salmon, while she had enjoyed Lydia’s company before her debut, had become so engrossed in London society after moving there that she now only corresponded with Lydia by letter. The information Lydia had about London society was limited to a few lines about her cousin’s life, sent once a fortnight.

Compared to Lydia’s information, Olivia’s stories were specific and things they had never heard before. Olivia told them about the habits and tastes of people they only knew by name from the newspapers, who the real power players in society were, and the subtle ways those power players were building their circles behind the scenes.

Olivia’s friends listened with their mouths agape. Then, when Olivia paused to wet her throat with a sip of tea, Rebecca, who was beside her, asked.

“Olivia, where on earth did you hear all these stories?”

To add credibility to her tales, Olivia answered honestly.

“I told you before, didn’t I? About the new governess at our house. She’s Miss Laura Pendleton of the Pendleton family.”

“Ah, the Pendletons from Cornwall, the great noble family? Their daughter is your governess?”

“Yes.”

“To have a lady from such a grand family as a governess, that’s amazing!”

The girls burst out in admiration. But then, Lydia, who had been quiet on one side, spoke up.

“Oh, you mean the Miss Pendleton who was friends with my cousin?”

“Friends? When I mentioned Miss Christine Salmon to Miss Pendleton, she said she was just one of the ladies who occasionally came for tea.”

Olivia’s reply was thoughtless, but Lydia was offended by the comment, which seemed to belittle her cousin. She retorted with a sting in her words.

“Well, she might say that. It’s not as if my cousin needs to know a Miss Laura Pendleton. Why would she need to lower her reputation by being friends with someone like that?”

Olivia was surprised by the sudden disparagement of Miss Pendleton and, strangely, felt offended.

“Why? What’s wrong with Miss Pendleton?”

“You know, don’t you? About Miss Pendleton’s birth.”

Olivia, of course, knew nothing at all, but to admit ignorance here would be mortifying. She hid her unease and quickly replied.

“Wh-what about it?”

“‘What about it?’ Wow, that’s surprising. Honestly, I think it’s very brave to hire someone like that as a governess. Your parents must be very open-minded.”