Translator: Nox

Chapter 113

<113> Aftermath of Sincerity (3)

"Damn it, that damned class difference..."

"No, the problem is you. It's you, Ian Dalton. You should have approached Miss Pendleton more cautiously. Until she was convinced that you needed her and that you would gain a lot through her. But you went crazy and acted like a child."

He paced frantically around the room.

"I followed Mrs. Fairfax's advice! She told me to befriend other women to lower her guard, and I did. Laura was disappointed in me because of that. That's definitely why she left!"

"Blaming your ancestors when things don't work out. No woman leaves a man she loves for such a trivial reason."

"Then why?"

"Because she knows that love alone can't overcome everything. She's probably afraid that her existence will be a flaw for you."

He stopped abruptly and ruffled his hair wildly. His neatly combed hair became a mess.

"Damn it! Damn it! Why is such a smart woman thinking such foolish things! Damn it all!"

"It's all because you didn't give her enough reassurance."

Ian turned sharply to his sister.

"Where did Laura go?"

"Tear my mouth apart. Do you think I'll tell you?"

"Should I threaten you like I threatened Laura?"

"There are guns all over Gerald's room. Should I pull the trigger for you?"

Ian grabbed his hair and screamed. He looked like a madman.

Mrs. Fairfax, with a nonchalant expression, pondered what love must be like for the animal called man. Judging from her younger brother's state, it seemed to be a kind of black magic that drove one insane.

Ian alternated between getting angry at his sister and begging her to reveal Laura's whereabouts. But Mrs. Fairfax kept her mouth shut like a flower bud waiting for May, merely watching her younger brother go crazy.

"She'll be back. I told her to stay away from Dunville Park until your feelings cool down. When she comes back in the spring, start over."

"What if her feelings cool down in the meantime? What if she meets another man and falls in love?"

"A woman's love isn't a barbecue that you can't eat unless you cover it with a silver lid. How can you have so little trust in women? You're just asking to become a jealous husband."

Mrs. Fairfax clicked her tongue.

"Because you're so emotional, you couldn't win Miss Sheldon's love, even though you're handsome and have such good prospects. Until spring comes, reflect on yourself and rework your plan to win her heart back. And here."

Mrs. Fairfax handed Ian a paper bag placed on the side table.

"It's a letter Miss Pendleton left for you."

Ian quickly snatched the letter and unfolded it.

--------

To Mr. Dalton,

By the time you read this letter, I will have left for a place you don't know. If you try to find me and chase after me, I will cross the channel to a place you can't reach.

I have one confession to make. You said you were my first love. But you are not my first love. The kisses we shared, you may be the first, but they are not my first.

I was not the chaste woman you thought I was. I hope you wake up from your fantasy about me.

Laura Pendleton.

--------

Ian dropped the arm holding the letter.

"What does it say?"

"She tells you to forget her."

That was all he could say.

He moved his leaden legs and left his sister's room. He heard a clicking of the tongue behind him, but he didn't register it.

He slumped down on the steps connecting the mansion's exit and the garden. And he read the letter once more.

Even after rereading it, his mind was still numb. Each letter seemed to slap him in the face.

He wasn't Laura's first love. Moreover, she says that even the kisses weren't her first.

That fact itself was shocking, but what was even more terrible was that Laura herself had conveyed it directly.

It was as if she had deliberately tried to make him lose interest. How can she confess her past with another man while loving me?

If he had heard about her past through someone else, he would have quickly recovered from the shock. He would have been jealous inwardly, but it was before he met her. His feelings weren't so shallow that they would cool down over such a trivial matter.

'She doesn't love me. I misunderstood what was just a slight liking.'

The bouquet and the set of keys he had prepared for her had become ridiculous. The person who was supposed to receive them was so indifferent.

'I'd rather die.'

He buried his face in his knees and sank to the bottom of an abyss of despair.

"Uncle. What are you doing?"

He slowly raised his head. Olivia, wearing a light purple dress, was looking down at him.

He forced a smile.

"How have you been, Olivia?"

"Fine. Although I'm a little sad about parting with Miss Pendleton."

Olivia smiled regretfully.

"Your proposal failed, didn't it?"

His smile turned into a bitter one.

"So what? You can try again. If she refuses, try again, and try again. A lady I know rejected her husband's proposal five times and accepted it on the sixth. The man was a widower with nine children and pockmarks. But Uncle, you're so handsome. You'll probably succeed within three tries!"

"Thank you for the hopeful story. It's a great comfort."

He got up from his seat. He should be wallowing in frustration at his own house, not at his sister's house swarming with nieces and nephews.

He ordered a servant to prepare a carriage. Olivia stood by his side to see her uncle off.

"Uncle, I heard you told Miss Pendleton that if she didn't accept your proposal, you would shoot yourself in the head with a gun?"

"Who did you hear that from?"

"Just here and there. How romantic! I have a new respect for you, Uncle. You're just like the male lead in a melodrama!"

"I'm grateful that even you see me that way, Olivia."

"I wish I could receive such a proposal once! Anyway, Uncle, if you have business in London, stop by Bath while you're at it."

"Why Bath?"

"Because your jewel will be spending the winter in Bath."

He looked down at Olivia. Olivia covered her mouth and chuckled.

The carriage stopped in front of them. He stepped on the footstool, got into the carriage, and closed the door.

"Uncle, it's a secret that I blabbed."

"Yes. Farewell, Olivia."

The carriage departed. He leaned back against the carriage seat and closed his eyes.

She had left for Bath.

If it had been before reading the letter, he would have packed his bags immediately and searched the area thoroughly. But he had no motivation. What would he do if he met Laura again?

To a woman, a man who doesn't want to hide his past is a man who means nothing. He was nothing to her.

He arrived at the mansion and trudged inside.

The butler, Ramswick, approached.

"Master. A guest has arrived and is waiting."

He moved to his study. The Dalton family's legal representative was sitting inside the study.

He bowed politely. As Ian sat down opposite him, the representative respectfully handed him some documents.

"Embezzlement has been detected in the Pendleton Estate's business you invested in. It seems that Charles Pendleton's gambling debts have reached their limit, and he has dipped into his brother's business funds."

Ian skimmed through the documents and gave a bitter smile.

"Charles Pendleton is quite the man. To blow Lady Abigail's enormous inheritance in an instant and even dip into his brother's business funds. Did the eldest son allow it?"

"Yes. Gerald Pendleton allowed it. The eldest son, John Pendleton, is a petty man who takes his father's words like the oracle of God and is an ignorant country gentleman. All the failed businesses so far were started because he couldn't resist his father's pressure, and he has never even recovered the principal, let alone succeeded. The general opinion is that his temperament is that of an incompetent human being."

Ian puffed out cigarette smoke and fell into thought.

Things were going more smoothly than he had expected. The Pendleton Estate's shipbuilding business was a large-scale merchant ship order. Originally, shipbuilding was a complex task that took years, from blueprint creation to material selection.

However, after Ian stepped in as an investor and other financiers gathered, trusting in his investment, a huge amount of investment money was collected, and within a month, the blueprints were released, and material purchase and construction were proceeding smoothly.

It would take longer than this to make a child's toy.

Even before investing, Ian was convinced. There would definitely be unclean transactions in the material purchase.

They would use cheap wood to embezzle the material costs or buy wood through solicitations. Then Ian would claim to have received an anonymous tip and withdraw his investment, and other investors would surely follow him and withdraw their funds.

Since it was a clear business fault, the Pendleton Estate would have nothing to say. The Pendleton Estate would have to cover all the blueprint creation costs and material purchase costs, and the Pendleton Estate would face complete bankruptcy.

But even before that, they were embezzling funds like this. Gerald Pendleton himself had created an opportunity to dramatically accelerate the process that would have dragged on for years in court.

'The Pendleton Estate is about to collapse thanks to the sons he chose after rejecting his wise niece.'

He laughed at the thought alone. He was about to bring down with his own hands the beastly man who had not only inflicted indelible wounds on Laura's childhood but also cruelly abused and expelled his niece, who had become a lady.

How delightful, it was a feeling that even momentarily forgot the sadness of being dumped by Laura.

"Is Gerald Pendleton in London?"

"Yes. He is said to be staying with his sons at a Townhouse in Grosvenor Square."

"The circumstances are clear, so there's no need to drag this out any longer. Notify them immediately that we will withdraw the investment."

"Yes. Then I will depart for London right away. As soon as the results come out, I will send a telegram..."

"I'll go with you."

"Yes?"

Ian put the documents down on the table and put a cigar in his mouth. He struck a match on the ignition surface, lit the end, and smiled, raising the corners of his mouth.

"I want to see with my own eyes what kind of expression Gerald Pendleton will make at the moment when the great Pendleton Estate crumbles like a sandcastle."