Chapter 86
<86> Whitefield (3)
Ramswick breathed a sigh of relief. But soon, he looked distressed.
"Why doesn't the master ever tell me about such important matters? If a lady who might soon become the mistress of this mansion were coming, I could have cleaned even more meticulously than usual and shown her at least a dozen more of the most beautiful rooms in this mansion."
"Hmm, I guess he didn't want you to make a fuss. Besides, you're too honest to lie. Just pretend you didn't hear anything I said. By the way, when will the lawyer's meeting be over?"
"It's almost finished, Miss."
Olivia clicked her tongue.
"He insisted on bringing the teacher today, so why is he working at this hour of all times?"
"Was it a promise?"
"Absolutely. Do you know how much my mother and I racked our brains to bring her here because of that?"
"It must have been an unavoidable meeting. Lately, lawyers and property managers have been visiting frequently. And they spend hours talking."
"What about?"
"I don't know, Miss. Perhaps business matters?"
Olivia, uninterested in business, turned to look at the teacher. The teacher was engrossed in her book, as if she had forgotten their existence.
"By the way, did the teacher like Whitefield Hall?"
"Yes. She seemed particularly impressed by the paintings in the Long Gallery. She seems to have an eye for art."
Olivia's shoulders lifted with pride.
"Of course. She received the best education at the best girls' school since she was young. Besides, she's been a Lady in London society for 12 years. It's only natural that she has high standards."
Ramswick was surprised.
"Then why is someone like that working as a governess?"
Olivia sighed heavily.
"If you heard, you'd shed a bucket of tears."
Ramswick looked at Olivia with a puzzled expression. Olivia gestured for Ramswick to come closer again. When Ramswick leaned in, Olivia began to whisper.
Meanwhile, Laura, lost in her book and oblivious to their presence, closed the book she had been holding with a fluttering heart. It was Thomas Hobbes's Leviathan. She had read it on the recommendation of her headmistress in her school days, and it was a new experience to see it again after more than a decade.
'I should read it slowly at home.'
She hugged the book in her arms and slowly walked along the bookshelf.
There was a library at Dunville Park, but it had few books and their condition was poor. Pages were falling out, covers were coming off, and some were even moldy. Even when Laura found a book she wanted to read, she hesitated to open it fully, fearing she would damage it further.
She walked around, looking for a book that Olivia needed. Surprisingly, she was able to find the book in less than five minutes among the tens of thousands of books. This was because the books were systematically categorized by field and author's name.
The condition of the books was also excellent. Although the paper of the old books was yellowed, they were all clean and free of dust. It was clear that they were being carefully maintained by the servants.
Collecting so many books would be difficult, but keeping them clean would require a great deal of attention. As a bibliophile, she felt immense respect for the Dalton ancestors who had collected the books and for Mr. Dalton, who was keeping them clean.
Laura walked along the bookshelf as if strolling through a garden and picked out two or three books. Goethe's Faust in the original German and Jane Austen's Mansfield Park.
After selecting all the books, Laura approached Olivia again.
Ramswick and Olivia were huddled together, deep in conversation. But when they heard Laura's footsteps, they stopped talking. And Ramswick, with his usual kind demeanor, pulled out a chair for Laura to sit on and poured tea into a rose-patterned teacup, placing it beside her.
Ramswick left the library to check on the preparations for the Formal dinner for the guests.
Laura drank her tea and showed Olivia the books she had found. Olivia was curious about the books the teacher had brought to read, in addition to the book she needed. Laura readily showed her the books she had brought.
"Leviathan? I've never heard of that book. Hmm, is this Italian...? Mansfield Park? A Jane Austen novel?"
"That's right. Jane Austen is my favorite novelist."
"I enjoyed Pride and Prejudice too. But I didn't like the others as much. Persuasion was boring, and I couldn't even finish Mansfield Park. I prefer novels like Jane Eyre or Tess of the d'Urbervilles."
"Persuasion will feel different when you read it as an adult. But I don't think Miss Fairfax's feelings about Mansfield Park will be different even when she grows up. But I like Mansfield Park the most among Austen's novels."
Olivia stared intently at Mansfield Park, bound in leather. The teacher's favorite novel by her favorite author. She felt like she had to read it again. She felt like there was something special hidden in the novel that she hadn't discovered.
"Teacher, I, at Dunville Park, this..."
"Ladies, are you having a pleasant time?"
The two ladies turned their heads to the entrance of the library at once.
There stood Ian Dalton, the owner of this library, the owner of this mansion, and the owner of every white birch tree they had passed.
He was dressed in a navy suit and tie. His jet-black eyes, like the black knots of Whitefield's birch trees, looked at the ladies with a gentle gaze, and he wore a beautiful smile that could not be found in any painting in the Long Gallery.
He strode towards the ladies. The two ladies smiled at the welcome appearance of the man and curtsied slightly before him.
"Miss Pendleton, I thought inviting you would be harder than turning coal into obsidian."
"Mrs. Fairfax said she couldn't let her daughter come alone."
"It seems my sister and Olivia have granted my wish."
Mr. Dalton said in a light tone and smiled brightly at Olivia.
"It's good to see you at Whitefield after a long time, Olivia. How is your mother?"
"She's fine. Oh, but the number of logs in the fireplace has increased."
"I'm worried it will get colder soon."
He murmured quietly and glanced at the desk.
"I'm curious what books the ladies have chosen?"
Laura showed him the books. Ian, smiling faintly, glanced over the books she had chosen, and his eyes turned questioning when he saw the cover of Mansfield Park.
"Did you choose this for Olivia?"
"No. I'm going to read it."
"Would you not be offended if I actively discouraged you?"
"I wouldn't be offended, but I'm curious why you would discourage me?"
"Because it's the most boring novel among Austen's novels. Something unpleasant must have happened to Austen's surroundings in succession when she was writing this novel. Otherwise, she couldn't have created such a thing with the skill she used to write Emma."
Laura chuckled, and Olivia turned pale.
"Uncle. That novel is..."
Olivia tried to stop her uncle's blunt words, fearing that Laura would be offended. But Laura quietly stopped Olivia.
"Mr. Dalton's opinion of Mansfield Park is like that. I haven't read any of Austen's novels yet, so would you recommend another of Austen's works?"
Mr. Dalton stroked his chin with his fingers and thought for a moment before shaking his head.
"It's not easy. The protagonists are all foolish, and the endings are all the same. Still, Persuasion, that one is okay."
"Ah, Persuasion is the better novel among Jane Austen's."
"That's right. Anne Elliot is the most mature person Austen has created. The rest are all stupid and dull..."
"Uncle!"
Olivia, unable to bear it any longer, interrupted Mr. Dalton's words. He looked at his niece with a puzzled expression. Olivia explained the situation in a rapid voice.
Mr. Dalton's face was filled with embarrassment.
"Miss Pendleton, I apologize. Please forgive me."
Laura shook her head with a smiling face.
"I was the one who deceived you first, so why are you apologizing, Mr. Dalton? I didn't say anything because I wanted to hear everything as it is, whether it's praise or criticism. Tell me more about why you dislike Austen's protagonists so much. I really want to hear it."
Mr. Dalton narrowed his brow and smiled.
"Sometimes Miss Pendleton makes people feel embarrassed. All right, since my opinion of Austen has been revealed, I'll tell you without embellishment. However, let's have lunch first. It's lunchtime."
The three ladies and gentlemen moved to the dining room.
The dining room of Whitefield Hall was a space that gleamed like freshly polished porcelain. Silverware was placed on the ten-person dining table covered with a white cloth, and fresh summer flowers in pure white porcelain vases placed throughout the room emitted a fresh fragrance. A large window was open, and beyond it was a view of the beautiful Whitefield landscape.
As the three people sat at the table, food was served one after another. Hot mushroom soup and cold salad. Pheasant and flounder dishes, bird pie, rice pudding.
Laura was very hungry from walking around Whitefield Hall, so she welcomed the food. While Mr. Dalton asked Olivia in detail about the Fairfax family, from her brother-in-law's back pain that flared up whenever it rained to little Ian's progress in learning to walk, Laura filled her hunger without feeling burdened.
Laura tasted the food and realized that Whitefield's chef was a skilled person. The sauce was sophisticated, and the degree of baking was just right.
"Miss Pendleton, is the meal to your liking?"
Mr. Dalton, having heard all the news of the Fairfax family, from the story of his brother-in-law whose back pain flared up whenever it rained to little Ian's progress in learning to walk, finally turned his attention to Laura.
