Chapter 2

<2> Miss Laura Pendleton (1)

Edward turned his gaze and scanned the banquet hall.

Finding Miss Pendleton among the numerous wives and ladies was no easy task, especially for Edward, a sailor unfamiliar with the elaborate attire of women. However, he had to find Miss Pendleton, if only for his anxious wife's sake.

He recalled Miss Pendleton's usual characteristics. Auburn hair neatly fixed in a hairnet, skin as white as his wife's, and modest, simple clothing.

Always, at all times, a pearl pendant necklace around her neck. Always in a corner, either talking with a friend or quietly observing people.

He carefully looked at the less conspicuous places in the banquet hall, and soon Miss Pendleton came into view. As usual, her hair was neatly styled with a hairnet, and she was wearing a silk dress with few embellishments. She was talking earnestly with a young lady dressed as plainly as herself.

Edward soon led Elizabeth to their table.

Noticing the couple approaching, the two ladies stopped talking and stood up. The ladies curtsied. A few formal greetings and well wishes were exchanged.

However, as the lady beside Miss Pendleton cleverly excused herself to fetch some food from the buffet, Elizabeth immediately abandoned formality and rushed to hug her tightly.

"Sister, why didn't you come to the waiting room! You were supposed to check my dress!"

Miss Pendleton gently stroked Elizabeth's hair.

"I'm sorry. Grandmother had severe dizziness, so I had to stay by her side all morning."

Elizabeth broke the hug and looked at Miss Pendleton with a worried expression.

"Is she very ill?"

"No, it's not serious. She just needs rest. The doctor told her to rest, and she got very angry. Why did this have to happen on our Bess's wedding day?"

"Oh dear. Should I stop by briefly before leaving today?"

"No, don't. Absolutely not. She'll be even angrier if your schedule is delayed because of her. And all that frustration will fall on the poor doctor."

"Hmm, then I should refrain for Dr. Webster's sake. Okay, I'll send her my regards instead. And tell her I'll write as soon as I arrive in Italy. Oh, I should buy Grandmother a gift. Sister, what kind of gift would be good?"

"Grandmother always has the same preferences. The latest Italian sheet music and novels."

"Great. Then what about you, Sister?"

"Stories from Italy and a hairpin."

Elizabeth shook her head as if she expected that answer.

"No, no, you need something. You need a snow-white lace shawl. The most expensive and most extravagant shawl in Italy."

Miss Pendleton chuckled.

"What, was my answer already decided?"

"Of course."

Miss Pendleton looked at Elizabeth warmly with her deep gray eyes.

"You'll already have a mountain of gifts to buy for other people, don't bother adding to the burden."

"Nonsense. I can skip gifts for other people, but I can't skip a gift for you. If it weren't for you, Edward and I wouldn't be going on a honeymoon. Right, Edward?"

Elizabeth turned to Edward, asking for his agreement, and Edward nodded with as much agreement as his usual dry expression allowed.

"That's right, Bess. We should give Miss Pendleton a gift, even if we don't give gifts to others."

"See, Sister? Even my husband says so."

Miss Pendleton smiled, looking embarrassed.

"If that's the case, Bess, just a small hairpin will do."

"No way. The shawl you wear is yellowish and doesn't suit your skin tone at all. If you keep refusing, I'll bribe your house servant and sew the shawl onto your favorite green tartan dress?"

Miss Pendleton burst into laughter. Her cheeks, usually pale, flushed slightly. She looked at Elizabeth with affectionate eyes and kissed her neat, clean forehead.

"Alright, Bess. I'll gladly accept it."

Elizabeth returned the kiss to Miss Pendleton. Then, she hugged her tightly and buried her face in her neck for a moment. Elizabeth felt as comforted as she did when she buried her face in her deceased mother's lap as a child.

Soon, Mrs. Morton, having left her sister's embrace and stood beside her husband, told Miss Pendleton about her future plans. From the near-term plans of where to spend her honeymoon in Italy to the long-term life plans of how many children to have and how to raise them.

Miss Pendleton, as always, listened intently, looking at her with clear, focused gray eyes, and encouraged her with warm words. After several tens of minutes, the couple, aware that staying at one table for too long was not proper, bid farewell to Miss Pendleton with hugs and handshakes and left her seat.

Miss Pendleton watched the Mortons walk away arm in arm for a long time. A sense of fulfillment blossomed in her heart. Just like when she saw Elizabeth walking down the wedding aisle with Viscount Deayer's arm at the ceremony earlier.

Why wouldn't she feel fulfilled? It had already been twelve years since she first met Bess. Twelve years ago, when she had just graduated from boarding school and visited Viscount Deayer's Country house with her grandmother, Bess was only seven years old.

Bess had taken her to the playroom, introduced her to all her dolls, and served her sugar tea that she had made herself.

Since then, Bess and Miss Pendleton had been friends. Closer than friends, like sisters. And now that child had grown up, met a wonderful husband, and changed her family name. She felt a new wave of emotion and, strangely, sadness.

She shook her head, feeling like she was about to cry, and sat down. Then, she took a few sips of the coffee she had left beside her. It was cold and had no flavor. Just then, Miss Jane Hyde, the lady who had excused herself earlier, returned to the table with a cup of hot coffee and a plate of cake.

Miss Pendleton noticed an unknown stain on Miss Hyde's skirt that hadn't been there before, and she instinctively knew that Miss Hyde had spilled something again, but she said nothing.

Miss Hyde replaced Miss Pendleton's cold coffee with hot coffee and placed the cake between Miss Pendleton and herself. Miss Hyde still had the troubled expression she had when she was talking to Miss Pendleton earlier.

Miss Pendleton sighed inwardly and continued the interrupted conversation.

"So, Mr. Fairfax is likely to propose sometime this week?"

"Yes."

Miss Hyde nodded and touched her forehead with her hand.

"He'll probably visit the day after tomorrow. He'll kneel in our drawing room, take my hand, and say it directly. He'll ask me to marry him. He's not one to beat around the bush. This is such a difficult situation. To think that he liked me. Who would have imagined..."

Miss Pendleton didn't bother to mention that everyone in London who knew them had imagined it.

"Yes, I can see how that would be disconcerting for you, Miss Hyde. In fact, a proposal is something that the person making it has thought about and prepared for dozens of times, but for the person receiving it, it's like a sudden accident. Still, it's fortunate that Mr. Fairfax gave you a warning by writing a letter. But Miss Hyde, it seems to me that you're troubled by something other than surprise. May I ask what the problem is?"

Miss Hyde bit her lip and looked at Miss Pendleton.

"I don't know what to do."

"You don't know?"

Miss Hyde took a fork and stabbed the cake.

"Mr. Fairfax is a wonderful man. He listens to everything I say, pays attention to me, and never frowns even when I make silly mistakes. The other day, when I fell off my horse and my riding clothes were covered in mud, Mr. Fairfax didn't flinch at all and treated me like a duchess."

"That's right. He's a very good man. And?"

"And..."

Miss Hyde rolled her hazel eyes, trying hard to find the words. But in the end, she just chewed on her lip and mashed the cake without saying anything.

Miss Pendleton couldn't help but feel puzzled by Miss Hyde's attitude.

Mr. Fairfax was an excellent suitor. He was the second son of a well-established gentry family, a self-made businessman who had made his fortune in trade, and he had a tall stature, a handsome face, and his own land and Country house.

For an unmarried lady living in London to be so troubled by being courted by a man as well-off as Mr. Fairfax, there was only one possibility. She was already engaged to someone else. And the new suitor was in better condition than the engaged man.

In such cases, women struggle fiercely between loyalty to their fiancé and the temptation to switch studs to a new suitor. Sometimes, the struggle is so deep that it leads to death.

However, Miss Pendleton could say with certainty that Miss Hyde would never have that kind of trouble. It wasn't a matter of morality.

Miss Hyde had absolutely no interest in romance. Her interests were only in cricket, horseback riding, and thick, bound books. Miss Pendleton, who had known her for over ten years, could testify before God that the objects of her passion had always been consistent.

Miss Pendleton quietly sipped her coffee and waited for Miss Hyde to say something on her own. But Miss Hyde was only focused on mashing the cake with her fork, turning it into a hideous lump.

Some unknown thought was still going through her head. She was clearly struggling to identify the nature of some emotion that she couldn't understand but couldn't ignore, an emotion that was impossible to ignore.

It was a rare sight to see Miss Hyde, who usually had an excellent vocabulary and could come up with any words she needed, in such a state.

Miss Hyde stabbed the lump with her fork as if planting a flag on her territory and muttered.

"Miss Pendleton, if I reject the proposal, will Mr. Fairfax be very sad?"

Miss Pendleton almost dropped the cup she was holding.

"You're thinking of rejecting it?"