Chapter 83

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: Dear Miss Laura
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Immediately after lunch, Miss Pendleton left for the forest with the two boys for their lesson. Ian asked Olivia if she would spend a little time with him.

The two sat in the small dining room, drinking tea. Olivia sat across from Ian, her heart pounding.

Her Uncle Ian, seated opposite her, was as handsome as ever. His beautifully sculpted face had thinned, giving him a sharper air. Olivia sipped her tea, her heart fluttering.

“Olivia, you seem to have become even more of a lady lately.”

“R-Really?”

Ian smiled and nodded. Olivia giggled.

Ian gazed at his dear niece. After his eldest, Henry, Olivia was his most cherished niece. Bright since childhood, she had always followed him around, and he, in turn, had doted on her as if she were a much younger sister.

“You’ve grown remarkably mature since your new governess arrived. It seems you two are getting along well these days.”

Olivia nodded.

“What do you think of her?”

“She’s a good person. There is much to learn from her. She’s kind, knowledgeable, and very sincere.”

Ian smiled gently.

“She is more than I deserve.”

Olivia simply looked at Ian without a word. Ian set down the teacup he was holding.

“The truth is, Olivia, I asked you to have tea with me to ask a favor. I know you’ve heard from your mother that I wish for Miss Pendleton to be my wife, and that’s why I recommended her as a governess for this house.”

“...”

“But there are several issues between her and me. I believe she is too good to be my partner, but she thinks the opposite. I want to open her heart. To do that, Olivia, I need your help.”

Ian saw Olivia’s face harden with a serious expression. She looked conflicted.

“I can’t.”

Olivia said, shaking her head.

“Uncle, I would do anything you ask of me. But not that.”

“May I ask why?”

“If you had asked me a fortnight ago, I would have said it's because you and she are not a suitable match. I thought so even before she arrived, and my opinion only solidified after hearing about her birth. I didn't want an aunt like that. But… things are different now.”

Olivia bit her lip.

Ian didn’t press her, waiting for her to speak again. After a moment of silence, Olivia continued.

“She is a kind person with a gentle disposition. But there was one time she showed a firm resolve. It was on the matter of marriage. She said, with the solemn expression of a chief justice, that she would not move an inch from her station. Perhaps… if she knew of your feelings, Uncle, she might leave this estate, even if it meant giving up her position as governess… I…”

Olivia’s face crumpled as if she were about to burst into tears.

“I… I don't want her to leave Dunville Park, Uncle!”

Ian stared at Olivia’s face. She looked surprised by her own words, as if she had just discovered this sincerity hidden within herself for the first time.

“Olivia. We share the same fear.”

“We… do?”

“The worry that she might leave. I feel it every day.”

Olivia stared blankly at Ian.

“As things stand, she is bound to leave someday. Little Ian will grow up eventually, and once he goes off to public school, she will have no more children to teach. Unless your mother has another baby, that is. Then she will become a governess in another household. Or, she might fall in love with another man and marry before that.”

Ian smiled self-deprecatingly.

“I wake from such nightmares every dawn. It’s been constant since she came to Dunville Park.”

Olivia gazed at Ian’s face. The sharper jawline, the pale complexion. She had merely thought he'd grown more handsome, but it seemed it was due to his heartache. Olivia felt a great pity for her uncle.

Ian approached Olivia. He knelt on one knee and took her hands.

“I promise you. I will not let your teacher leave. I will make her my wife, if only to save myself from misery. So…”

Ian gazed at Olivia and smiled.

“Help me, Lady Fairfax.”

Olivia lowered her head.

“I’ll… think about it.”

Ian politely kissed the back of his niece’s hand, as he would a lady at a ball.

* * *

That evening, Olivia went up to her room first after dinner. After her maid had helped her into her nightgown, brushed her hair, and left, she sat alone and quiet at her dressing table, mulling over her uncle’s words from earlier.

When her uncle had made his request, she would have flatly refused in the past. And the very fact that he had asked such a thing would have angered her, making her dislike for her teacher grow. But now, she didn't feel the slightest bit displeased. She was even conflicted. Conflicted!

Olivia shook her head vigorously. She had been so certain that a union between her teacher and her uncle was impossible, but why was her heart wavering now?

No. It couldn’t be. It was unthinkable. Her uncle, the wealthiest and most respected gentleman in Yorkshire, marrying Laura Pendleton, a penniless spinster and an illegitimate child. It was something she should vehemently oppose, not assist.

But an image of her teacher kept appearing in her mind, sitting in the drawing room. Her dear Miss Laura, playing chess with her father or cards with her younger siblings. As the vision became vivid before her eyes, Olivia sighed.

If she merely felt pity for her, she would have offered some other kind of help, something other than marriage to her uncle.

But for Olivia, Laura was no longer an object of pity. She admired her, respected her, and at some point, had even begun to feel a reverence for her that was akin to love.

To convince herself, Olivia tried to think of suitable husbands for her teacher. The middle-class suitors she had once promised to introduce her to. An apothecary, a tailor, a merchant.

Olivia shuddered. The very act of pairing her teacher with them felt like an insult. They were all decent enough men, but they couldn't hold a candle to a woman like her teacher. How could a lady as elegant and beautiful as her teacher become the wife of such ordinary men?

‘No matter how I think about it, the only man suitable for my teacher is my uncle.’

Olivia buried her face on her dressing table. If her uncle married her teacher, he would face difficulties. The Dalton family, the most distinguished family in Yorkshire for hundreds of years, would become the subject of gossip for the first time, and even his children would be whispered about.

But her uncle would surely overcome such trivialities. And most appealing of all…

‘If my teacher marries Uncle, she’ll become my aunt, won’t she?’

Olivia was instantly captivated by the thought. On her birthday every year, her teacher would come with her uncle, bearing gifts to celebrate. They would have parties at Whitefield Hall every Christmas, and in the spring, they could go strawberry picking together. If her teacher and uncle had a child, she could attend the christening and birthday parties. And maybe… just maybe…

‘If they have a daughter, I could ask them to name her after me!’

That thought decisively swayed Olivia’s heart. A beautiful baby girl, held in her teacher’s arms. People would admire the child, exclaiming how lovely she was, and ask for her name.

Holding the baby, her teacher would smile with a face as beautiful as an angel’s and reply.

‘Olivia. Her name is Olivia Dalton. We named her after Miss Olivia Fairfax, my husband’s esteemed niece and my own special friend.’

The next day, she wrote a letter to her uncle at Whitefield. The contents were very brief.

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Uncle. What should I do?

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* * *

“Miss, would you like to go with me to my uncle’s estate?”

One late summer morning, Olivia, who had joined Laura on her morning walk, asked unexpectedly.

Laura, who had been breathing in the cool air tinged with the scent of fir trees while mentally planning her day, looked down at Olivia in surprise.

“...To your uncle’s estate?”

“There are many books on the new reading list you gave me that we don't have at home. It would take more than two weeks to order them from the bookshop.”

Laura tilted her head.

“Can’t we ask a servant to have them sent over?”

“But that’s no fun.”

“Ah, so you want to go for a visit?”

Olivia beamed and nodded.

Laura tilted her head and gave a noncommittal smile. The desire to see the beauty of Whitefield with her own eyes was a wish she had harbored since her days in London. But now, having come to Dunville Park and being closer to Whitefield than ever before, Laura did not welcome the opportunity to visit.

Whitefield was surely beautiful; she could tell just from the landscape paintings he had shown her. But it was Mr. Dalton’s private estate. No, it was Mr. Dalton himself. The land where he was born and raised, which he loved like a child. If she were to become captivated by it, her heart would only lean further toward him.

It would be like letting sunlight into the most secluded, coldest corner of her heart where she had locked away her feelings.

Laura unknowingly furrowed her brow. Whenever she became conscious of the presumptuous feelings within her, she grew to dislike herself a little.

Seeing Laura’s reluctance, Olivia, looking anxious for some reason, began to press her earnestly.

“Please, Miss. If I try to go alone, Mother is reluctant to lend me the carriage. She says I stay for days at a time, making the carriage unavailable when it’s needed.”

“And if I accompany you, she will allow the carriage?”

“Definitely. With you accompanying me, it would be impossible for me to stay overnight.”

Olivia took Laura’s hand (a degree of physical contact that was now natural between them) and pleaded with her to go.

Seeing Olivia clinging to her so, Laura found it hard to refuse. She decided to first try asking Mrs. Fairfax to let Olivia go alone.