Chapter 42
<42> The American Lady (1)
"I heard you've been acting as the lady of the house next to my mother for 12 years? Managing all the big and small affairs of this Estate?"
"Yes, that's right."
Gerald Pendleton seemed even more displeased by the docile answer, glaring at his niece.
"Your housekeeping skills must be quite useful, so why haven't you married yet?"
"I think I've just been unlucky in many ways. I'm also lacking."
Miss Pendleton answered as politely as possible to avoid creating a fight.
"Ah, so you mean a suitable match hasn't appeared yet?"
"I don't have such presumptuous thoughts, Uncle."
Gerald Pendleton chuckled lowly. He put on his outdoor hat and said,
"I don't know what your intentions are, but you should give up on the idea of receiving anything from my mother or continuing to live in this house. When my mother passes away, this house belongs to our Charles. After the funeral, you'll have to pack your bags and leave immediately. Figure out how to survive on your own."
He passed Miss Pendleton and disappeared downstairs. Miss Pendleton stood silently on the stairs. Except for the fact that he didn't resort to violence, her uncle's attitude was the same as it had been 20 years ago. Twenty years had not erased his contempt and hatred for his niece at all.
Miss Pendleton looked in the direction her uncle had disappeared. And she cast a cold gaze that she would never reveal under the light.
'It's the same as before. The same as when he hurled unspeakable insults at me, accused me of being a thief, beat me, and threw things at me, leaving me bruised.'
To her uncle, she was still an unwanted hanger-on, no different from a sewer rat worthy of contempt. Perhaps the fact that she bore the Pendleton name had long fueled that hatred.
But she didn't want to argue or be angry at her uncle's gaze. She simply sneered calmly.
Her uncle didn't know what his niece was thinking. He didn't know that 'Pendleton,' which he considered the source of his identity and pride, was a shackle she had always wanted to shed.
She didn't want to be bound by this shackle forever. Someday, she would be free. She would abandon the Pendleton Estate as her uncle wished. Not now, but someday soon.
She stood there for a moment before hurrying up the stairs. And as usual, she went up to her grandmother's room to give her a goodnight kiss.
* * *
The next morning, Miss Jenson paid a surprise visit to the Pendleton Estate. Her reason was that she wanted to see the house. To visit without an invitation, especially not during tea time, was a very rude act in British society. But Miss Pendleton didn't show any particular reaction and slowly showed her around the house.
Miss Jenson liked the interior of the Townhouse and was even impressed. In fact, with her abilities, she could have easily acquired a splendid Townhouse in any central location in England.
However, Grosvenor Street was an exception. As befitting its image as a wealthy neighborhood representing London, Grosvenor Street carefully considered lineage, connections, and family status before selling properties. It would be difficult for a woman of purely American origin like Miss Jenson to squeeze in without means such as marriage.
It was understandable why Miss Jenson was so interested in this house.
While Miss Jenson looked around the house, Miss Pendleton did her best to satisfy her frank interest in her future assets. She faithfully answered questions about the size of the rooms, the history of the furniture, and the scale of the household.
As Charles's fiancée, Miss Jenson had every right to know all of that. Even if the day she took over this house was the day Lady Abigail passed away and Miss Pendleton was kicked out empty-handed.
After the house tour, the two had a meal together and sat facing each other in the drawing room, drinking tea. Miss Jenson picked up the black tea and apricot cake that Miss Pendleton offered and began to ask her in detail about London society: the most popular Balls, dress trends, the most successful ladies, and the tea times they gathered for.
Miss Pendleton had all the right answers to those trivial questions. Miss Pendleton answered richly and in detail enough to satisfy her curiosity.
After listening to all her stories, Miss Jenson was impressed.
"Miss Pendleton is really well-versed in this neighborhood. Well, you debuted at seventeen, so you've been in this neighborhood for almost 12 years. There's no way you wouldn't know."
Miss Pendleton smiled softly and drank her tea.
Miss Jenson looked at Miss Pendleton, who neatly held the steaming teacup and moistened her lips. It was an elegant and clean face with simple gestures.
How admirable. She secretly smiled as she looked at Miss Pendleton, who was almost five years older than her.
"It's only natural for a fish to know its lake well. I don't know anything about the world outside of London society. Grosvenor Street, a few places in London, and the boarding school I attended as a child are my whole world. But Miss Jenson, you decided to take a big adventure across the sea at a young age. You're planning to enter British society, aren't you?"
"Oh my, who told you?"
"Yesterday, Mr. Price stopped by to pick up his gloves. He asked me to take care of Miss Jenson then."
"My uncle? I was going to formally ask him, but he snatched it away so quickly."
Miss Jenson giggled.
"Miss Pendleton, I plan to stay in England with my uncle, Tom Price, my godfather, for a while. Maybe I'll never go back to America. If I marry Charles, I'll settle down here. I'm going to enter London society right after I marry Charles."
"It must be quite busy to juggle the rectory and London life."
"I'm not going down to the rectory, Miss Pendleton. And maybe Charles won't either. We both love London."
Miss Pendleton, who was stirring the teacup with a teaspoon, stopped moving.
"...Oh, is that so? There's no law that a pastor has to live with his parishioners. I know there are many pastors who have their own homes far away and commute to services. But London and the Pendleton Estate are too far away."
"I don't think Charles cares about the distance. I distinctly heard him say, 'I'm too lively a person to be stuck in a rural rectory with nothing to see just because it's far away.'"
"When did he say that?"
"When he proposed to me. When I asked if I had to live in the rectory, he said that right away. Instead of the rectory, he offered me a Townhouse on Grosvenor Street. Right here."
Miss Jenson looked around the drawing room she was sitting in with a satisfied expression.
"It's much better than the picture he showed me. It would be hard to get anything better than this with any marriage."
Miss Pendleton's heart grew complicated as she looked at Miss Jenson, who was talking as if it were already hers. She must know what her fate will be after this house becomes Miss Jenson's, but she's so openly excited.
However, her actions didn't feel like snobbish superiority. Judging from her attitude at the Formal dinner yesterday, she wasn't someone who was oblivious to other people's feelings.
'Maybe she heard a fabricated story about my future. Maybe my uncle lied because he was afraid Miss Jenson would hesitate to marry out of guilt. But what kind of lie did he tell?'
Laura was curious, but she swallowed the question, thinking it wasn't a topic she could openly ask about.
"A good lady of the house will be coming in, so this quiet Townhouse will be lively. The servants and cooks in this Townhouse are all diligent and excellent employees. Especially the cook."
"Oh, that's right. The barbecue yesterday was excellent. Is he French?"
"Yes. He's worth every penny of his high salary."
"Good. The food provided at the Estate is very important in society. I think I'm lucky to be coming to this Townhouse. But Miss Pendleton, I have a favor to ask."
Miss Pendleton looked at her. Miss Jenson leaned towards her, unlike usual, and lowered her voice as if whispering.
"Before Charles completely inherits this place, could you send the young maids away in advance?"
Miss Pendleton immediately understood her intentions. This morning, Miss Pendleton had discovered Charles trying to grope a sixteen-year-old maid he had been eyeing yesterday. Miss Pendleton quickly made an excuse and took the maid, who was on the verge of tears, away and reassigned her to the kitchen, where she wouldn't run into Charles.
"Write them letters of recommendation and help them move to good places. We've promised not to care about how each other lives, but I don't want his illegitimate child to be born in my house."
Miss Pendleton nodded silently. And she racked her brains to get away from this topic. Miss Jenson was so honest that she was revealing not only the bottom of her fiancé but also her own self-serving marriage intentions without any hesitation, which was hard for her to handle.
"Miss Jenson, how many outfits did you prepare when you came from America?"
"One trunk. Originally, there were three, but I lost two on the way."
"Oh, dear. How did that happen?"
"The name tag on the cargo hold must have fallen off, and when the servant went to pick it up after arriving in London, someone had already taken it, so I couldn't find it. In the end, I lost all the picnic dresses and Formal dinner dresses that I had carefully chosen."
"Oh, dear."
"But well, I'm not going to worry about it. It'll be easier to keep up with the trends if I have them made in London."
"But now it's the peak of the social season, so all the dress shops are fully booked with dress reservations."
"By any chance, do you have a personal dressmaker?"
Miss Pendleton shook her head. Miss Jenson became gloomy for the first time since entering the Townhouse.
"Then what should I do? The only trunk left has a few everyday clothes and a Ball dress."
Miss Pendleton pondered for a moment and then said,
"How about getting one at Harrods?"
"At a department store?"
"Yes. I went there with other ladies last time. All the products are ready-made, but the quality is good and they're right on trend. You can ask the servant at home to fix anything that doesn't fit perfectly."
"Wow, that sounds good. Let's go together sometime."
"Anytime."
At Miss Pendleton's cool answer, Miss Jenson stared at her face.
"What's wrong, Miss Jenson?"
"You're really kind, Miss Pendleton."
Miss Pendleton skillfully hid her embarrassment by picking up the teacup she had put down and wetting her throat.
"I've heard a lot of praise from Gerald Pendleton, but I didn't know you were this nice."
Miss Pendleton was surprised that her uncle had praised her. Come to think of it, Mr. Price had also said that he had praised her through her uncle.
