Chapter 92
<92> The Curtain Rises (2)
Soon, Mr. Dalton entered the drawing room. He was neatly dressed in a black suit with a dark green Frock coat for autumn. In his large hands, covered with brown leather gloves, he held several simple bouquets of flowers.
He took off his hat and bowed to the hostess, Mrs. Star. Mrs. Star, who had returned from a playful retriever to a dignified Parsonage wife, greeted him with a graceful smile. He asked after her well-being and then turned his gaze to Laura.
"Miss Pendleton is here as well."
Laura smiled brightly at him as usual. Seeing his face, the sadness from before faded, and her mood brightened.
"You were invited to the Formal dinner by Mrs. Star last time, weren't you? She said she would let you taste the famous apple pie of Yorkshire. You were there, did you forget?"
"I am sorry. I forgot."
"You are still indifferent to ladies."
"I am more special to you than other ladies. Mrs. Star, isn't that so?"
Mrs. Star nodded.
"It's surprising."
Laura's gaze shifted to the bouquets.
"You look like a flower-selling girl in Covent Garden. Are those flowers from the Whitefield Hall greenhouse? Where are you taking so many bouquets?"
"I am going to meet my relatives."
"Relatives?"
Mrs. Star chimed in from the side.
"Those who have passed away. There is a cemetery behind the Parsonage."
"Ah."
Laura nodded.
"I would like to give you a bouquet, but it is unlucky to offer flowers picked for the deceased to a living lady. Next time you come to Whitefield Hall, I will make a bouquet for Olivia and Miss Pendleton. Then."
He took off his hat, bowed slightly, and left the drawing room.
His footsteps faded away. Mrs. Star tilted her head.
"That's strange."
"Why?"
"Mr. Dalton's days for placing flowers at the cemetery are fixed. It's the last Sunday of every month. Why did he come on a weekday?"
Mrs. Star slowly rose from the sofa and walked towards the window. She stood by the window and quietly looked outside. Laura followed her and stood by the window. Below the window, the Parsonage's simple backyard was visible. The backyard faced the cemetery across an iron fence.
Various tombstones stood in the wide cemetery covered with dry grass. Cross-shaped, rectangular, square with a roof. Arched.
Soon, Mr. Dalton appeared among the tombstones. He stopped in front of the cross-shaped tombstones standing side by side. He placed one of the bouquets he was holding between the two tombstones, took off his hat, and bowed his head. He was praying.
"Those tombstones are for Mr. Eric Dalton and Mrs. Patricia Dalton, Mr. Dalton's parents."
After a short prayer of about two minutes, he placed another bouquet on another tombstone next to it and prayed again. Mrs. Star told her about the owner of each tombstone.
Mr. Dalton's grandparents, Mr. Thomas Dalton and Mrs. Ilusha Dalton. Reverend Jenfield, who had watched over the Parsonage for a long time. Mrs. Martha, the housekeeper who had taken care of the household in his childhood. Mitchell Dunn, a farmer and friend who died young.
Eventually, he walked towards a rectangular marble tombstone. He placed a bouquet there.
"That tombstone is... um, I can't remember the name, but it's the tombstone of Mr. Dalton's childhood painting teacher. Ah, why can't I remember? It was a very wonderful name..."
His prayer lasted a little longer than in front of the other tombstones.
"They must have been special."
"They were like family beyond just a teacher. His sister got married when he was eight years old. Mr. Dalton was very lonely after his sister left. He cried every day and couldn't eat. His father couldn't bear to see his son like that, so he hired a portrait painter who visited the house as a painting teacher."
"It must have been comforting to have a teacher by his side who could understand his lonely situation."
"Yes. I heard he was as kind as an angel. Mr. Dalton sometimes says that he was one of the few respectable people he met in his life. He learned not only painting from him but also how to endure sadness and become an adult."
His prayer was over. He knelt in front of the tombstone and kissed it briefly. Laura quietly watched his back. She couldn't see his expression, but she could feel the love.
"Mr. Dalton pays special attention to that tombstone. He feels sorry that he is buried in a foreign country because his hometown is America. He thinks of himself as his family."
Mr. Dalton slowly rose from the tombstone. And he turned away from the tombstone. A beautiful bouquet of red lilac flowers remained where he had been.
As he turned around, the two ladies also stepped away from the window.
Mrs. Star clasped Laura's hand.
"Teacher, have dinner with us. I want to hear the stories of London society that you tell."
It was a voice mixed with coquetry and whining. Laura thought about how lucky Reverend Oliver Star was to hear this voice every day.
"I don't think I can today."
"Hmph, why?"
"It's Daniel's birthday. We're having a Formal dinner tonight."
Mrs. Star sighed. The twenty-eight-year-old wife, who was both a playful retriever and self-aware, nodded.
"Then there's nothing I can do. I have a lot of apple pies baked in the oven. I'll put them in a basket for you to take to Dunville Park."
"Thank you. That would be a good gift for Daniel."
The two linked arms and headed to the kitchen. However, just as they were leaving the drawing room, Mrs. Star stood still with a cry of, "Ah!"
"I remembered. The painter's name! Oh, why couldn't I remember this name? Really, my memory is only half of what it used to be after giving birth to Harry."
Laura laughed as she watched Mrs. Star hitting her head.
"So, what's his name?"
Mrs. Star smiled brightly.
"Louis. Louis Sheldon."
Louis, Sheldon.
At that moment, the smile disappeared from Laura's lips.
"Louis, Sheldon...?"
"Yes. It's a very artistic name, isn't it? If he had lived longer, he would have become a painter known all over Europe. I heard his painting skills were genius-level..."
Mrs. Star continued to chatter. But Laura couldn't hear anything.
In Laura's mind, the curtains of memory, layered upon layered, fluttered and opened. A presence that could barely be traced back to its form, only after going back a very long time, resurfaced in her mind.
The one who put a pendant around her neck and cried, who swore he would come back for her, but in the end, left forever.
Her young and beautiful father.
Laura ran madly out of the Parsonage. She heard Mrs. Star's cries calling her from behind, but they were just meaningless wind to her.
She ran through the gate and onto the sidewalk. Laura ran on the dry grass lined with tombstones and soon stopped in front of the marble tombstone with the lilac flowers.
"Louis Sheldon.
7 ~ 1876. 2. 1
A talent that could not fully blossom on earth will be used preciously in heaven."
She traced the spelling of the name and the dates of birth and death with her eyes. It was no different from the name she knew. It was exactly the same as the birth date she remembered.
"Ah, ah..."
Laura felt as if all the blood was draining from her body. She felt dizzy and lightheaded. She staggered.
Someone grabbed her shoulder tightly. A hand large enough to cover her entire shoulder.
"Miss Pendleton."
She turned her head. Mr. Dalton was standing behind her.
"What's wrong?"
Laura turned her body. And she looked up at him with a dazed gaze. Black eyes and hair. Pure white skin. Black and white forming a stark contrast.
'Like a birch tree.'
The birch forest surrounding Whitefield Hall flashed before her eyes. As if under a dreamy spell, her eyes became even more blurred. And her heart was racing like crazy.
"Mr. Dalton..."
She moved her bloodless lips. Her last bit of judgment squeezed out.
"...It might be heavy, but hold me."
Laura's body tilted backward. His arm wrapped around Laura's back. He pulled Laura into a tight embrace. Her cheek bumped against his chest, as hard as a stone, and her body was completely enveloped in his large embrace.
His large hand, covered in a glove, wrapped around Laura's small head.
"Laura, Laura...!"
Even as her consciousness flickered, Laura felt a sense of stability in his arms. She fainted without any worries.
* * *
What Laura saw when she opened her eyes was an unfamiliar white ceiling. Laura just stared blankly at the ceiling. Her mind was hazy. If she closed her eyes, she felt like she could be sucked back into sleep again. The direction of falling back asleep was quite tempting.
But there was something disturbing Laura. Whispering voices lowered. Sighs exhaled low as if worried.
Laura finally opened her eyes.
The place where she was lying was the guest room of the Parsonage, where she and Olivia had stayed before. The protagonists of the whispers and sighs were standing on one side of the room. It was Mrs. Star and Mr. Dalton. The two were facing each other, with Mr. Dalton sighing repeatedly and Mrs. Star whispering.
The wife, who was talking to Mr. Dalton and turning her gaze towards the bed, met Laura's eyes.
"Oh, you're awake!"
Mr. Dalton hurriedly ran to the bed. He checked Laura's face, and then he sighed as if he had put down a heavy burden. And he took off the leather gloves on his hand and stroked her forehead.
It was the first time their bare skin had touched.
His fingers, sliding over her skin, were warm and firm. The temptation that had been sprouting inside her, the desire to fall asleep again, disappeared completely.
"Are you hurting anywhere?"
"No."
He said, fixing his gaze on Laura.
"Madam, would you bring a glass of wine?"
The wife immediately went out and came in with a small glass filled with about half wine.
Mr. Dalton supported the back of Laura's head and brought the glass to her mouth. Laura opened her mouth and obediently drank the wine. A metallic, bitter, and fragrant fruit wine flowed down her throat. Soon her body warmed up, and strength returned to her limbs. Her dazed mind also returned.
He put away the glass and slowly sat her up. And he put a pillow behind her back to lean on.
"The doctor will be here soon."
Laura nodded.
"I heard you're eating well and living well at Dunville Park? I heard you're so swollen that you have to have your clothes remade? Is that all a lie? Are my sister and brother-in-law giving you the side-eye at the table?"
He was so serious that Laura laughed.
