Translator: Nox

Chapter 101

Perhaps he was the eldest son of a wealthy Count or Marquess, he surmised. And the day she walked down Wedding Road would not be far off.

He thought this thanks to a hint from his sister Janet. He had been too busy with work lately to frequent social circles, and naturally, he hadn't paid attention to gossip like rumors of romance. Then, he received an invitation to the hunting party at Whitefield.

Although busy, he had things to discuss with Ian, and he couldn't send his sister alone, so he decided to head to Whitefield.

However, while Mr. Fairfax was packing, Miss Janet asked,

"Brother, if someone asks me to be a bridesmaid, can I accept?"

"Of course. You're old enough to be a bridesmaid. But who's the star of the wedding march?"

"I won't say because it's not certain yet."

"Who is it? Huh?"

Knowing that Miss Janet wanted to be pressed, Mr. Fairfax playfully pressed his sister. Miss Janet giggled.

"She's a friend of both of us. She has an angelic face and top-notch harp skills. She's the best-dressed lady in London."

It was as good as saying it was Miss Lance.

"I'll only say this much. The official announcement isn't out yet. But it's as good as decided. All of London is buzzing with rumors."

Mr. Fairfax didn't ask who Miss Lance's partner was. He felt uncomfortable prying into the private life of a close lady. But he had already planned the congratulatory message and the type of bouquet to send when the announcement was made.

He looked at Miss Lance chattering across from him and prayed inwardly.

'May the gentleman you choose be a wonderful man. May your innocent heart not be hurt, and may you become a happy wife and mother, Miss Lance.'

* * *

After getting off the train, the Fairfax siblings headed to Dunville Park.

Miss Lance naturally joined her friends. They took a carriage waiting at the train station and headed to Whitefield.

An air of excitement permeated among them. The fact that they were invited to the highly rumored Whitefield Hall was secondary. They firmly believed that Mr. Dalton would propose to Miss Lance at this gathering.

Rumor had it all over London that Mr. Dalton and Miss Lance had fallen in love. The rumor, which started in the drawing-room of the Lance family's Ball, had such a tremendous ripple effect that it had already been exaggerated to the point where the two had set a wedding date.

Miss Lance put her heart and soul into choosing clothes and accessories ahead of her visit to Whitefield. Her mother had splurged on a new dress and, sighing at the bill sent by the dress shop, had warned her not to even think about coming home if she didn't receive a proposal.

Miss Lance was composed. There was no way she wouldn't receive a proposal. If he wasn't interested in her, why would he have opened the gates of the Dalton family, who had been thoroughly cut off from society, to Londoners? He had clearly organized the gathering to summon her from far away in London and announce their engagement along with the proposal.

Carriages arrived one after another in front of Whitefield Hall. Ladies dressed to the nines and gentlemen with faces flushed with anticipation of firing guns in a new hunting ground got out of the carriages.

Miss Lance and her friends admired the exterior of Whitefield Hall. How beautiful and elegant it was. It would not be an exaggeration to say that it was the most beautiful mansion in England.

Miss Wilkes whispered to Miss Lance.

"You'll be the mistress of this place soon, Dora. Oh my, I'm so jealous I could get sick!"

Miss Lance blushed, but there was clearly pride in the corners of her lips that were rising on their own.

Mr. Dalton, neatly dressed, greeted the guests one by one. It was a job to be done with the hostess, but since the position was vacant, he had to take charge.

Miss Lance looked at him with eyes sparkling with anticipation. He smiled plainly and said, "Welcome, Miss Lance."

That was enough. A lady lost in a love fantasy could expect the future with all her heart with just a fleeting smile.

Servants carried the luggage and were assigned to designated rooms. Miss Lance put on a luncheon dress for the upcoming luncheon and went down to the dining room.

Name tags were prepared at each seat on the table. Good relationships such as family, friends, and business partners were placed at one table, and people with awkward relationships due to scandals or business problems were placed as far away as possible.

Miss Lance wondered. How could Mr. Dalton know about the relationships of Londoners and arrange the seats so exquisitely? It would have been impossible without someone's help.

Everyone entered the dining room, and Mr. Dalton entered last.

Surprisingly, there was a woman by his side. It was Laura Pendleton.

Laura Pendleton entered the dining room arm in arm with Ian Dalton. She was wearing a sophisticated, beautifully silhouetted purple dress and diamond earrings.

People were surprised and whispered quietly. Everyone knew that she had been kicked out of the Pendleton family and became a governess. How could she, who had fallen into the position of a servant, appear at Whitefield Hall in such a splendid outfit?

Mr. Dalton looked around the room. He had a confident and dignified attitude.

"Thank you for gathering in this secluded retreat deep in the countryside. It is thanks to Miss Laura Sheldon, who is by my side, that I was able to show this place, which has avoided opening to the outside world, to such high-class guests as you."

Sheldon. The puzzled gazes of the audience were focused on her with an unfamiliar surname.

"I recently asked this lady, who has high knowledge and culture, to be the tutor of my nephews. Miss Sheldon has been an excellent teacher and a model of an adult for the past few months. And we learned an amazing fact. Her father was my childhood painting teacher and the daughter of the genius painter Louis Sheldon."

The audience gasped softly.

"It is an amazing coincidence that the father and daughter became mentors of two families with deep ties for generations. We regard this as God's will and have decided to accept her as a member of the family, not an employee. Now, I would like to introduce her to you again. A member of the Fairfax and Dalton families of Yorkshire, Miss Laura Sheldon."

People applauded with bewildered faces.

Laura's face, which had been calm, turned slightly red.

"Mr. Sheldon's works, which he painted during his lifetime, are hung on the right wall at the entrance to the Long Gallery on the second floor of the mansion. Please feel free to look around. Then."

Mr. Dalton led Laura to the head of the table. He sat at the end of the table, and Laura sat to his right.

Along with him, servants holding trays lined up and entered the dining room. And the musicians who had been waiting on one side began to play music.

People ate and whispered to each other in low voices.

It was surprising, but no one doubted the fact itself. Everyone who knew knew that Miss Pendleton had been recommended to the Fairfax family as a governess, and above all, what was Ian Dalton lacking that he would lie for Laura Pendleton, risking the honor of the two families?

The nobles glanced at Laura. There was curiosity, but no hostility. She was no longer a poor illegitimate child abandoned by the head of the family. She was Laura Sheldon, protected by the two most traditional families in Yorkshire. Who would dare to glare at her in Armor?

After the meal, the men went hunting in the Whitefield hunting grounds. The ladies decided to spend the afternoon scattered in the Long Gallery, drawing-room, and billiard room.

Miss Lance, who had been feeling disturbed throughout the meal, toured the mansion with her friends.

Whitefield Hall, which she had been so curious about, was right in front of her, but Miss Lance couldn't see anything. Only the image of Miss Pendleton and Mr. Dalton standing side by side earlier came and went before her eyes.

The voices of her friends made her heart even more disturbed. They were angry at Miss Pendleton, who suddenly appeared under the protection of Mr. Dalton. They were jealous of her, who shamelessly stood in the place of their friend, who was about to become the mistress, and received all the attention.

"A member of the Dalton and Fairfax families? Ha! She's just the daughter of an unknown American, no matter what?"

"I know! An illegitimate child born before marriage, and an old maid working as a servant in someone else's house!"

"She pretended to be so self-aware, but she appeared in a place like this. If I were Miss Pendleton, I wouldn't even show my shadow here..."

"Stop it, girls."

Miss Lance, unable to listen any longer, intervened. The two ladies looked at Miss Lance.

Miss Lance was pressing her temples with her fingers.

"Do you have a headache?"

Miss Lance didn't say anything, but they exchanged glances and closed their mouths. They had only now realized that the Queen was upset.

They wandered around as they pleased. Passing through the music room, library, and billiard room, they reached the Long Gallery.

Miss Wilkes and Miss Orson were watching Miss Lance's mood. They had slandered Miss Pendleton to their heart's content, but they were curious about the painting by Louis Sheldon, who was said to be Miss Pendleton's father.

Miss Lance was just as curious. Miss Lance led her friends into the Long Gallery.

In the gallery, a dozen or so ladies were freely strolling around and looking at the paintings. Among the hundreds of paintings, the most popular work was, of course, the landscape painting hanging near the entrance.

Miss Lance's group pushed through the ladies and approached the painting.

They were stunned when they faced the painting. The magical colors that made them fall into ecstasy as soon as they saw it captivated them. All of them were ladies who had received good art education, so they immediately recognized the value of the painting.

The whispering of some ladies gathered in front of the painting pierced Miss Lance's ears.

"Miss Pendleton, no, Miss Sheldon's father was a great man, wasn't he?"

"I know. We just knew him as an American thug. If he hadn't died so early, he would have become a celebrity. Miss Sheldon would have become the daughter of that celebrity. By the way, how could a disciple and the daughter of a teacher meet so perfectly? They were friends since London."

"I know. If it were a novel, I wouldn't believe it. Isn't it a fateful love story?"

"Hey, it's rumored that Mr. Dalton is Miss Lance's lover."

"Who knows? The two haven't announced their marriage yet."

Miss Lance stepped back. Her friends, feeling a sense of failure, also moved away from the painting.

"It's, it's nothing special."

"Y, yeah. What genius talent. It looks like it was drawn by a 15-year-old, what."

The two friends grumbled for no reason. But all three knew that it was empty talk.

Miss Lance walked slowly through the Long Gallery with a gloomy feeling. Then, a painting caught her eye.

It was a portrait of an elegant woman with black hair and eyes, like a magnolia. Miss Lance stood rooted to the spot without realizing it. It was because of the dress the woman in the portrait was wearing.

A sophisticated purple satin dress that never goes out of style. It was the very dress that Miss Pendleton was wearing in the dining room earlier.

The three immediately recognized the dress. Miss Orson gestured to the servant guarding the entrance and asked who the subject of the portrait was.

"She is the late Dalton's wife."

The three were speechless.