Chapter 89

-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 89
Chapter Title: Whitefield (6)
-----------------------------------------------------------------

“Then.”

Her uncle raised the corners of his mouth and spoke with confidence.

“Anyone who visits Whitefield more than once is bound to fall in love with this land. It's the most beautiful place in the world. And if they come to love the land, they will naturally come to love its master—me.”

Olivia looked at her uncle, quite skeptical.

“I've visited Whitefield often, but I don't love you, Uncle.”

“Then who was it that proposed to me when she was seven?”

Olivia's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Ian chuckled softly.

“Don't be impatient, Olivia. Your only job is to bring your teacher to Whitefield often. The more time she spends here, the more her heart will open up without her even realizing it. With you as the intermediary, her guard will be down. After a month or two of this, there might be a time when the weather forces her to stay the night, or I could create a situation where she has to act as hostess for a dinner party at my request, or perhaps nurse me through a bout of influenza.”

Olivia tilted her head.

“A dinner party, maybe, but you've never had the flu in your life, Uncle. You always boast that your constitution prevents you from even catching a common cold. How could she possibly nurse you?”

“I'll pretend to be sick.”

Olivia thought for a moment, then clapped her hands together in understanding.

“Uncle, you're a genius.”

Olivia gazed at her uncle with a look of awe.

“It's a perfect plan. A kind person like her will feel a protective instinct seeing you groaning in pain. And she'll realize how lonely you are and feel great sympathy for you. It would be easy for such feelings to turn into love. By the time you've recovered, she won't want to leave your side, and if at that exact moment you propose, saying, 'While under your care, love found its way into my heart. Please stay here with this lonely man forever,' she'll surely accept.”

“You've guessed it perfectly.”

Ian smiled at his clever niece.

“This winter, I plan to be sick for more than ten days. Just ill enough to be bedridden and hovering near death's door, but not so much as to be a great burden on my caregiver. When I'm nearly recovered, I'll take your teacher's hand and stand with her before the bedroom window. The sight of a snow-covered Whitefield will be quite romantic, I imagine. I'll kneel before her and ask her to be my wife. She won't be able to refuse. I'll be gaunt from skipping meals, and I plan to shed a few tears as well.”

Impressed, Olivia silently gave him a thumbs-up.

Laura's performance ended. Olivia and Ian applauded her enthusiastically. Unaware of the conversation that had passed between them, Laura gratefully acknowledged their praise. She soon led Olivia to the piano. The two sat side-by-side and played a duet by Johann Strauss.

The grand, golden grandfather clock at the end of the hall in Whitefield Manor struck five. Laura finished playing and closed the piano lid.

“It's time to go.”

Olivia, who had been standing beside Laura and singing along to the accompaniment, sat down next to her teacher with a look of disappointment.

“Miss Pendleton, can't we play just one more song before we leave?”

“We promised your mother we would be back before dinner.”

“It only takes an hour to get there. Dinner is at half-past six, so we have thirty minutes to spare.”

Laura gently smoothed Olivia's blonde hair.

“It is true that it takes an hour from Whitefield to Dunville Park. But we need those thirty minutes to say our goodbyes to your uncle, greet your mother upon our arrival, change our clothes, and wash our faces, Miss Fairfax.”

She had a point. Olivia slid off the piano bench.

Mr. Dalton came out to see the ladies off. He smiled kindly at Miss Pendleton, who was seated inside the carriage, through the window.

“Miss Pendleton, thank you for your visit. It has been quite lonely living here by myself, but you have made it a delightful day.”

“I should be the one thanking you for your gracious hospitality. Whitefield is a truly impressive place. I'm certain I'll be dreaming of strolling through its white birch forest tonight.”

“A compliment from you is always precious, Miss Pendleton. Though, with your warm nature, there is seldom a time you are not offering praise for something.”

Laura shook her head earnestly.

“You may doubt my other compliments, but not those about Whitefield. I am truly moved by it.”

“Are you really?”

“Yes. I had heard so many praises and even seen it in paintings that I worried I might be disappointed by the real thing. But my fears were unfounded. Mr. Dalton, I was captivated the moment I arrived. And…”

Laura's breathing grew a little heavier.

“I felt it was a land as beautiful and pure as its master.”

As soon as she said it, a look of dismay crossed Laura's face. She felt she had misspoken.

He was just as taken aback. Her compliment was directed at him as well as Whitefield. Pure and beautiful. Whitefield, and him.

His heart pounded.

Mr. Dalton extended his hand to her. Laura carefully placed her own upon it. He bowed his head and pressed a firm kiss to her small hand.

An unnaturally long time passed for a customary kiss before he lifted his lips from her hand. He stared intently at Miss Pendleton.

“Tonight, you will appear in my dreams, adorned in rubies and a silk dress. I wish you a safe journey home.”

A faint blush rose to Laura's cheeks. She smiled awkwardly and withdrew her hand.

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

The carriage departed.

The one leaving. The one seeing her off. Their positions were different, but the same thought crossed the minds of the lady and gentleman.

*I shouldn't have said that.*

***

Less than a week after her visit to Whitefield, Laura found herself in a carriage with Olivia, heading there once again. An invitation had arrived from Mrs. Starr, the wife of the Whitefield vicar.

In a peculiar writing style that seemed to echo a cheerful voice, she requested they visit her humble vicarage for a cup of tea. Laura, accompanied by Olivia, who was practically swathed in lace and silk, went to the Whitefield church vicarage for tea.

The vicarage was bustling with young ladies. They were all girls between the ages of twelve and eighteen. They were choir members, all daughters of farmers or prominent shopkeepers.

Laura had inwardly prepared herself, expecting her acquaintance with Mr. Dalton to be mentioned at least once during the tea time. But she was mistaken. Before she had even set foot in the vicarage, they had already heard from Mrs. Starr that Laura was a friend of the Whitefield landowner.

Laura had to endure an uncomfortable afternoon, caught between a highly excited Mrs. Starr pressing tea and cake upon her, the innocent choir girls who didn't dare speak to her but instead gazed at her with eyes shining like the Milky Way, and Olivia, who boasted embarrassingly about her teacher's foreign language skills and piano prowess.

After that, Mrs. Starr's invitations continued. To be honest, Laura did not enjoy those gatherings. However, out of courtesy to Mrs. Starr and consideration for her friendship with Mr. Dalton, she accepted the invitations.

There, she met farmers' wives with rough hands and warm eyes, the diligent wives of merchants belonging to the ladies' auxiliary, and the boys and girls between the ages of nine and eleven who gathered once a week for Bible study. They all knew that Laura was Mr. Dalton's friend. That alone made her seem a respectable figure in their eyes.

A flood of hospitality and smiles greeted her. Affable middle-aged women asked about her well-being, inquiring if she lacked for anything, while the children sat close to the beautiful Laura and asked her all about London. Whenever Laura left, her arms were full of the simple gifts they had given her.

Laura soon realized they were all good, warm-hearted people. She also realized that everyone, from the young children to the local elders with graying temples, respected Mr. Dalton. A sincere, fair, and courteous landowner. That was his reputation.

Gradually, Laura's reluctance to visit the vicarage faded. She grew fond of the Whitefield residents she met there, became accustomed to Mrs. Starr's cheerfulness, and rather than feeling awkward about the respect she received by association with Mr. Dalton, she began to feel grateful.

Laura strove to conduct herself properly so as not to tarnish Mr. Dalton's reputation. She paid close attention to her etiquette and responded to their goodwill with kindness and humility.

Her demeanor was impeccable. The expectations the residents, who loved Mr. Dalton, might have for his friend were always met with admiration and satisfaction.

After several such visits to Whitefield, their next destination after leaving the vicarage was always Whitefield Manor. As it was only a fifteen-minute carriage ride from the vicarage, it became quite natural for her and Olivia to stop by for a short visit.

Passing through the magical birch forest to arrive at Whitefield, she could always meet Mr. Dalton. Having heard such positive accounts of him firsthand at the vicarage several times, Laura couldn't help but feel respect for the man standing before her. She already knew he was a responsible landowner, but experiencing it directly in his own domain made him seem incomparably more admirable than before.

He always treated Olivia and Laura generously. He allowed them to use the library as they pleased and showed them the beautiful flowers in the glasshouse. On fine days, they would go outside, and he would show them the maze garden and the beautifully trimmed ornamental trees, and occasionally, he would pick ripe red apples from the trees he grew as a hobby and fill the ladies' skirts with them.

Laura loved every moment she spent at Whitefield. The manor's dignified beauty stimulated her sensibilities, and for a book lover like her, the library with its countless volumes was nothing short of paradise. The servants were always kind to her, and the meals and desserts were prepared with admirable skill.

However, the biggest reason she loved Whitefield Manor was that she could meet Mr. Dalton there. The moments spent sitting across from him, engaged in conversation, were when she felt most happy and fulfilled.