Chapter 4

<Episode 4> Miss Laura Pendleton (3)

At those words, Mr. Fairfax smiled more happily than ever. He took Miss Pendleton's hand, shook it vigorously, and repeatedly expressed his gratitude. Then, he asked Miss Hyde if she needed any further assistance.

Miss Hyde committed the rudeness of not even looking at him, simply shaking her head. However, Mr. Fairfax, unperturbed, kindly bid her farewell, mentioning that he would stop by the day after tomorrow to return the Mary Shelley novel he had borrowed last time.

Miss Pendleton couldn't help but feel a pang of regret as she watched Mr. Fairfax's face, which she had always considered handsome, now glowing with the radiant expectation of love.

As Mr. Fairfax left the table, Miss Hyde sat down, her complexion pale. Miss Pendleton sat beside her, warmly holding her ice-cold hand.

All traces of the earlier inappropriate expression had vanished from Miss Hyde's face, replaced only by guilt. Miss Pendleton realized that her heart had been completely decided by just a few words of conversation with her.

She would reject Mr. Fairfax's proposal the day after tomorrow.

* * *

After seeing off the Mortons, who were leaving for Italy immediately after the wedding ceremony, Miss Pendleton settled her weary body into the carriage. The carriage slowly departed.

Miss Pendleton leaned her head against the window, gazing blankly outside.

As they left the tranquil park surrounding the wedding venue, the bustling evening streets of London unfolded.

Workers wearing flat caps and smoking pipes walked purposefully, middle-aged women in worn capes hurried home,

Young boys eagerly peered into gun shops, and young laborers carried ladders to light the gas lamps.

Street vendors piled high with various fruits and vegetables seemed on the verge of collapse, and young girls approached well-dressed passersby to sell flowers.

It was London, as busy and noisy as ever.

The scenery gradually changed as the carriage approached its destination.

The street vendors transformed into handmade hat shops and lace shops with beautiful display windows. The passersby became gentlemen in silk hats and ladies in dresses with puffed-out bustles.

The only people hurrying were young maids rushing to their respective mansions with urgent errands.

Finally, they entered Grosvenor Street, the wealthiest residential area in Mayfair.

Miss Pendleton straightened up and smoothed her hair. Soon, the carriage stopped, and the coachman quickly got down to open the door. Miss Pendleton took the coachman's hand and lightly stepped out of the carriage. After thanking the coachman, she went straight into her house.

The Pendleton family's Townhouse, familiar to Miss Pendleton, was, in fact, quite astonishing to most people.

Most visitors froze upon entering, confronted by the enormous Impressionist painting hanging directly in front of them.

And then, they felt dizzy from the rows of flamboyant and provocative oil paintings lining the hallway connected to the drawing room, the red tapestries imported from China, and the ceramic vases adorned with serpent designs.

But for Miss Pendleton, who had lived here for over a decade, it was nothing new. She paid no attention to any of it and hurried upstairs to the second floor. She knocked on the middle door of the three rooms.

"Laura?"

"Yes, it's Laura. I'm coming in."

Miss Pendleton opened the door and entered the room. The room was dimly lit, with the only bright light emanating from the blazing fireplace.

Ms. Abigail Pendleton, sitting by the fire, had Anne the cat on her lap and was intently studying a stack of papers, relying on the firelight and a small gas lamp beside her. Miss Pendleton approached Ms. Abigail and sat on a small stool beside her.

"Grandmother, are you feeling alright?"

Ms. Abigail rubbed her tired eyes and replied lightly.

"I'm feeling a bit better than before. Though this wretched manuscript is about to make me relapse."

"Ah, is that Mr. Nayes's manuscript? I heard he's rewritten it five times. Is it that bad?"

"I don't understand why he won't listen to the advice not to repeat the same adjective more than three times in a paragraph. And why does he repeat the story of the protagonist's childhood kidney problems every five pages? Does he think the necklace they're chasing is hidden in this person's kidney or something? Ugh, even my perfectly healthy kidneys are throbbing."

Ms. Abigail threw the stack of manuscripts onto the side table and turned to Miss Pendleton with a curious gaze.

"So, my dear, how was Elizabeth and Edward's wedding today? Tell me everything from beginning to end."

Miss Pendleton recounted the sweet details of the wedding, scene by scene, which she had carefully stored in her mind for this moment. The decorations of the venue and the faces of the invited guests. The wedding attire of the bride and groom and the pitch of their voices when they made their vows. The size of the reception hall and the variety of foods served at the buffet.

The sweetest part of all was the single tear that fell from Edward Morton's eye immediately after he kissed the bride. It was undoubtedly the highlight of the wedding event and a moment to be remembered for a long time.

Ms. Abigail was as surprised as the guests at the venue at that part and burst into laughter. She seemed to have forgotten even the gout that always plagued her and the bitterness she had felt from reading the third-rate novel just now, she was so delighted.

"I knew it. Edward Morton. Didn't I tell you that friend of his was soft on the inside? But I didn't expect him to shed a tear. I'm sorry I didn't see it in person. I'll have to tease him mercilessly when he returns from his honeymoon."

"Grandmother, really."

Miss Pendleton burst out laughing.

"Beth promised to buy sheet music and books for you in Italy."

"Oh, really? I'm looking forward to it. Then what did she promise to buy for you?"

"A lace shawl. A pure white lace shawl."

"Excellent. The one you're using now is over ten years old, isn't it? I was thinking of buying you one soon. Beth has a good eye for that."

"She's been a clever girl since she was young."

"Yes, that's why she ended up with a man like Edward. If she were an ordinary woman, she wouldn't have been able to say a word, even if she just went near Edward. Actually, Beth was like that at first too. Do you remember the Formal dinner we had at our house for the first time? That friend Morton was as stiff as a post, and he glared at Beth so coldly that Beth, who usually has a good appetite, only nibbled on a few pieces of salad and ran away, complaining of a headache."

Ms. Abigail clicked her tongue.

"Honestly, even if someone is bad at socializing, there's no gentleman who would treat a lady like that. And then, a few months later, they're getting married. It's amazing. It probably wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been the bridge between them."

Miss Pendleton didn't reply, but her complexion turned slightly red.

"Beth ran away in a hurry, and you were the first to talk to Edward, who was despondent and drowning his sorrows in a corner. You talked for almost two hours and figured out how good a friend Morton was. And that he liked Beth too."

"……."

"From then on, you often invited Beth and Edward to Tea party, and the three of you often went for walks in Hyde Park. Before long, Beth came to like Edward, and you gave a lot of courage to Beth, who was tormented by the thought that such a wooden man like Edward could never like her. That masterpiece of a wedding today is all thanks to you. No, why are you shaking your head?"

Miss Pendleton gave an embarrassed smile and held her grandmother's hand tightly.

"It's hard to listen to, Grandmother. Their marriage was made by the two of them, and I hardly intervened. Please don't say that in front of anyone."

"Is there any need to say it out loud? All of London already knows. That you connected the eldest son of the Morton family and the precious only daughter of Viscount Deayer. How many times is this now? The number of happy couples you've brought together. Your friend Rosemary and Judge MacLean, Olive of Baron Lowe's family and the eldest son of the Viscount Raven, and……."

"Grandmother, stop!"

Miss Pendleton's face turned bright red, and she shook her grandmother's hand wildly. Ms. Abigail, as always, enjoyed teasing her shy granddaughter and laughed gleefully.

"You're so cute when you blush like that whenever someone praises you, it makes me want to tease you even more. Today's wedding that you brought together is exactly the tenth couple. Goodness, our Laura is the best matchmaker in London. Our capable Laura Pendleton!"

Miss Pendleton didn't reply and lowered her reddened face. Ms. Abigail chuckled and stroked Miss Pendleton's beautiful auburn hair, which was tightly bound in a net. Then, she gently cupped her granddaughter's chin and lifted it up.

Miss Pendleton's face was revealed in front of the blazing fireplace. Reddened cheeks and shiny, deep gray eyes. Neat and delicate features and white skin.

Ms. Abigail gazed at her granddaughter's face for a moment. In the slender face, she could always find her daughter. Her beautiful and intelligent daughter, Dolores Pendleton, who had left too soon.

Ms. Abigail's cheerful smile soon turned into a bitter one. She stroked her granddaughter's face.

"Laura, please answer my question honestly."

Miss Pendleton stared intently at Ms. Abigail's serious face.

"You're so beautiful, even at twenty-nine. As if you've avoided the passage of time. And you were even more beautiful ten years ago. Then and now, you've been a wise and kind young lady. I've never seen a young lady as outstanding both inside and out as you. But why, why do you use everything you have for others? Hmm? Why haven't you found your love?"