Chapter 88

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 88
Chapter Title: Whitefield (5)
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Laura smiled faintly at the vein throbbing on Mr. Dalton's forehead. She always found it rather amusing whenever he grew angry.

"In that sense, Austen is a true realist. Most people in the real world are riddled with flaws. But you've left out Miss Elinor Dashwood and Miss Fanny Price. What of those two ladies?"

"I will exclude Miss Fanny Price from my critique, as she is the lady from your favorite work, Miss Pendleton."

Laura chuckled softly.

"Miss Price ought to visit Dunville Park for a cup of tea as a token of her gratitude. Now, tell me about Miss Elinor Dashwood."

"She is a respectable lady who conducts herself with sense in all matters. However, her sense did not extend to love. She suffered heartache over an indecisive fool like Edward Ferrars."

Laura immediately disagreed with this opinion.

"How can you call Edward Ferrars an indecisive fool? I see him as a very fine gentleman."

"In what way?"

"He gave up his true love to honor a promise he made to a lady in his younger, more foolish days. It was the proper course of action, not to be swayed by emotion. Had he broken his engagement to Lucy Steele and chosen Miss Dashwood, Elinor would have been disappointed in him, and the readers could not have sided with him."

"I think the same. Abandoning a lady to whom one is promised in marriage is a shameless act. However, had he not been a dolt in the first place, he never would have gotten engaged to a vulgar woman like Lucy Steele."

Laura covered her mouth with her hand to suppress a laugh. Though she was tolerant in all things, she had no rebuttal to Mr. Dalton's critique of Lucy Steele. Lucy Steele was the very incarnation of irredeemable vulgarity.

"Well, that settles it then. Emma and Lizzy are arrogant, Catherine is naive, and Marianne and Elinor, despite their different temperaments, are both fools? And our Fanny is a young lady with some unmentionable flaw? Oh, how embarrassing that all my friends fall short of Mr. Dalton's standards!"

Laura feigned dismay with exaggeration. Knowing she was teasing, Mr. Dalton chuckled.

However, Olivia, who had been listening to their conversation all along, grew anxious. She thought Laura's feelings had been hurt. It was only natural, as her uncle's vocabulary was scathing and his tone was one of utter condemnation.

In fact, throughout their conversation, Olivia had wondered if her uncle was in his right mind. What man, even if provoked, would so openly disparage the tastes of a woman he fancied to her face? If she were in her governess's shoes, she would have thrown her tea in his face.

"B-but Uncle, you said you liked Anne Elliot from *Persuasion*. That she was a mature character."

At his niece's apt point, Mr. Dalton nodded.

"Anne Elliot is the epitome of gentle strength. She is intelligent, patient, and wise. It's no wonder at all that Captain Wentworth falls in love with her again."

Laura tilted her head.

"Do you really think so?"

"I do."

"How interesting. In the past, Anne Elliot followed Lady Russell's advice and gave up her beloved Captain Wentworth. Doesn't that seem rather indecisive?"

"I believe Lady Russell gave the correct advice, and that Anne Elliot was wise to accept it."

"Why is that?"

"Wentworth was then a mere naval officer with nothing to his name. At the time, the navy was not considered a promising profession. I cannot understand what possessed Wentworth, with no financial foundation, to propose to Anne Elliot. He was in no position to offer the woman he loved any security. To believe that a woman would choose him for love alone when he could barely fend for himself is nothing short of foolishness. In the end, he became wealthy by distinguishing himself in the war, but had a single cannonball gone astray and destroyed his fleet, all Anne Elliot would have gained from marrying him would have been the cold corpse of the man who was once her husband."

"You surprise me, Mr. Dalton. I thought you were a man who held love as the highest standard. That sort of thinking is for a calculating woman like myself."

"I do believe in the power of love and strive to live as that noble emotion guides me, but that is because I am a man of means. Women are at a disadvantage economically and are vulnerable to the influence of reputation. If they follow only love and fall into financial ruin, they have no way to save themselves. A woman must be prudent and rational when it comes to marriage. A man of privilege like myself cannot condemn a woman for making a practical choice."

Just then, a servant approached and informed him that one of the tenant farmers was urgently requesting an audience. He apologized to the two ladies and excused himself.

Laura waited for him, drinking tea with Olivia. For some reason, Olivia became quite enthusiastic in boasting about her uncle's wealth and appearance. She claimed that half the land in Yorkshire belonged to him, and that of all the gentlemen she had ever seen, none was as handsome as her uncle.

Laura, thinking Olivia simply wanted to brag about her uncle, played along appropriately. But her mind was elsewhere, so she failed to notice that Olivia could not hide her anxiety, an anxiety rooted in the fear that her uncle had lost a great deal of favor with her governess.

Contrary to Olivia's thoughts, Laura was not the least bit offended. As she had said, she was a woman who drew a clear line between her tastes and her sense of self. In fact, their recent conversation had made her realize that the day she might come to dislike Mr. Dalton would never arrive.

As far as she knew, Mr. Dalton was a man who paid not the slightest attention to things he disliked. He immersed himself deeply only in what he loved, treating everything else with cold indifference.

For such a man to have read all six of Jane Austen's major novels meant that he must be quite fond of her work. A gentleman who liked Jane Austen. There was no way she could not like him.

*It is such a fortune to have befriended Mr. Dalton.*

Laura thought this quietly, beside an Olivia who was now hastily boasting that her uncle was the best marksman in the region.

He returned in less than half an hour, just after the three o'clock bell had chimed. He suggested they move.

"The tea has gone cold, and the flies are beginning to gather around the desserts. Let us move to the music room. There is a well-tuned pianoforte there, which will give me a natural opportunity to ask Miss Pendleton to play."

"And I can pretend to reluctantly oblige and show off my skills."

Laura replied cheerfully.

"And while you are playing, Miss, I can grumble a few words at my uncle."

Olivia muttered in a displeased tone.

Laura thought Olivia was pouting because Mr. Dalton had been away for so long, and she patted the girl's shoulder to soothe her.

The three of them moved to the drawing room. He brought over half a dozen pieces of sheet music that had been prepared there. The two of them stood side by side before the pianoforte, looking through the music to choose a piece to play.

Olivia sat on the sofa and watched their backs. Standing like that, they looked so good together. Like a happy newlywed couple. How wonderful would it be if her governess stayed here and became her uncle's wife? If she became part of their family forever, without the worry that she might one day leave.

But her uncle, the one who should have been capturing her governess's heart, seemed to have no intention of doing so. All he had done in front of the governess he had gone to such trouble to invite was brag about his embarrassing nickname, Miss Havisham, and openly badmouth her favorite author. He should have been sitting right beside her, seducing her with all manner of sweet nothings, but what was this? Olivia was angry.

Soon, Laura began to play the pianoforte. It was Mozart's Sonata No. 12. Mr. Dalton sat next to his niece, Olivia, and watched Laura play. Olivia glanced sideways at her uncle's face.

Her uncle's eyes were fixed on Miss Laura Pendleton, who sat before the grand pianoforte. A smile played on his lips.

Olivia was shocked to see her uncle's face at that moment.

He seemed completely captivated. His eyes were dazed, and his skin was faintly flushed. It was an expression she had never seen on her uncle's face before.

*Ah, my uncle is truly smitten with my governess.*

Olivia felt a twinge of jealousy toward the governess who had drawn such an expression from her uncle. She glanced at the pianoforte. Her governess, wearing the ruby earrings she had lent her, playing the keys with her long lashes lowered. Beneath her pinned-up auburn hair, her alabaster-white skin and delicate features.

Olivia's jealousy quietly subsided.

*If I were my uncle, I wouldn't be able to help but love her either.*

Olivia readily admitted it. Laura was a woman far superior to herself, and Olivia felt nothing but awe for her. The jealousy she had just felt was merely an emotion like a dry cough lingering habitually at the end of a cold; any animosity toward the woman who had stolen her uncle's heart had been completely replaced by her love for Laura.

Olivia was an honorable vanquished soldier who knew how to accept defeat.

"Uncle."

Olivia called to her uncle in a low voice. Her uncle, mesmerized by the sight of Laura playing the pianoforte, was completely oblivious to his niece's call. Olivia called him three more times before finally pinching the back of his hand.

Only then did her uncle look down at the niece beside him.

"Hm? What is it, Olivia?"

Olivia brought her face close to her uncle's ear and whispered.

"You do have a plan, don't you?"

"Ah, I will give you a chance to play as well. First, wait until Miss Pendleton's piece is finished."

Her uncle turned his gaze back to the governess. Olivia furrowed her brow.

"Not that. I mean a plan to capture her heart."

He looked at Olivia again.

"In your letter, you wrote nothing more than to bring her here today. What exactly is your plan?"

"To have a pleasant time together at Whitefield."

"Is that it?"

"Yes. Showing her Whitefield and the manor will be enough."

Olivia was dumbfounded. But Mr. Dalton himself was perfectly at ease.

"What remarkable confidence. You think our sensible governess will fall in love with you just because of your land and manor?"