Miss Pendleton shook her head.

“Officially, it’s my grandmother who does it.”

“Then, Miss Pendleton, you must be able to skip it often?”

“No. Due to my grandmother’s health, I’m in charge of the overall proceedings. Even if I wanted to skip it, I can’t.”

“I see.”

Mr. Dalton mumbled quietly, then soon spoke in a clearer voice.

“I’ll visit you soon. Is tomorrow alright?”

Miss Pendleton was surprised by his unexpectedly proactive attitude, and shook her head.

“Ah, tomorrow my grandmother’s doctor is coming. The day after tomorrow would be better, I think.”

“Alright. I’ll visit you the day after tomorrow.”

Miss Pendleton nodded and extended her hand.

“Then, I’ll look forward to our next meeting.”

Mr. Dalton took her hand and looked down at it for a moment. Then he slowly bowed his head and kissed the back of her hand.

“Return home safely, Miss Pendleton,”

He bid farewell in a resonant voice, still holding her hand. But at the moment when he should have released her hand, he freed it two or three beats late.

Miss Pendleton was puzzled, but soon thought it was because he was unfamiliar with social etiquette, and after giving him a light smile, she set the carriage in motion.

She thought he would return to the ball immediately after her carriage departed, so as soon as it started moving, she completely averted her gaze from him. Therefore, she did not know that Mr. Dalton, left behind, stood in that spot watching the carriage until she disappeared from view.

That night, before going to bed, Miss Pendleton knelt beside her bed as usual. And she prayed in gratitude for meeting her new friend Mr. Dalton today, and that he might find a good match in London and enjoy the happiness of a family.

As always, her prayer was sincere. But she did not know how that prayer would be fulfilled in the days to come.

* * *

Thanks to Mrs. Lance’s persistent efforts, on the evening following the ball, Mr. Dalton found himself seated across from Miss Dora Lance in the dining room of the Lance family’s townhouse for dinner.

The Lance Baronet’s dinners had been famous in London for quite some time. On the surface, it was due to the advantage of being able to enjoy the lavish dinner menu and the beautiful smile of their daughter, Miss Dora Lance.

But there was a bigger reason for the widespread rumors – the Lance Baronet was notorious for being extremely selective about his guests.

The Lance Baronet was a man with an unusual attachment to his title and family name. Therefore, to share a meal with them, who bore the name Lance, one had to be at least of equal rank, a baronet or higher, and if without a title, one needed to have a family name to match.

Thus, even before the appetizers were served, Mr. Lance began to interrogate Mr. Dalton about his estate and how old his family was, completely unaware that he was violating the very etiquette he held so dear.

Thanks to his persistent efforts, before the main course was served, it was revealed that Whitefield’s original name was Bailon Abbey, and it had been in the Dalton family’s possession since the 1500s, during the time of the Reformation. Mr. Lance was finally reassured that his wife had not invited the wrong guest.

He began to tell the story of his great-grandfather’s time when their family first obtained the title of baronet, with a sense of kinship towards another head of an established family.

Miss Lance’s face flushed with embarrassment at her father’s prolonged boasting. The Lance family had obtained their title less than 200 years ago, and it wasn’t due to any great merit, but merely a stroke of luck due to political circumstances.

And yet, to dare boast about the family to the head of the Dalton family, who had been major landowners in Yorkshire for nearly 400 years. It was not just embarrassing, but even rude.

However, Mr. Dalton listened quietly no matter what he blabbered about, and behaved with appropriate respect towards Miss Lance and Mrs. Lance. That’s why when he politely declined Mr. Lance’s offer of cigars after dinner and hurried home, none of them realized that he had, in fact, fled, nauseated by the rich food and Mr. Lance’s arrogance.

After Mr. Lance happily retreated to his study, pleased to have met a young man he liked after a long time, Mrs. Lance, giddy with the thought of boasting to her peers about inviting Ian Dalton to dinner, grabbed the hand of Miss Lance, who was about to go up to her room, and led her to the living room.

She sat her beautiful daughter next to her, fiddling with her hands, and broached the subject subtly.

“Dear, wasn’t Mr. Dalton quite splendid?”

The daughter enthusiastically agreed.

“Yes, Mother. I’ve never seen such a handsome man in London!”

“Yes, I think so too. With that appearance and that wealth, there must be dozens of maidens already trying to catch him, yet he’s still unmarried. It’s truly a gift from God. Indeed, no matter how many expenses one has, one should never skip the tithe. Now, Dora, let’s see if we can get a proposal from him before this social season ends.”

Miss Lance, who hadn’t thought that far yet, looked at her mother with wide eyes.

“But I’ve only seen Mr. Dalton twice. No, more than that, he doesn’t have a title. Father might not like it.”

“Dear, do you think there are any nobles these days with good financial situations among the so-called elite? They’re all running dry in this recession. It’s hard to find an eligible bachelor in London these days who hasn’t mortgaged his land or leased out his mansion. Remember that eldest son of the Marquis of Barden who often danced with you last time? The one you said had good dance moves and was gentlemanly. Didn’t their country estate end up being auctioned off? How on earth did they manage their money to lose land passed down for generations?”

Mrs. Lance clicked her tongue.

“Compared to that, how excellent is Mr. Dalton. Whitefield itself is a genuine territory with a manor, and I hear its forest is perfect for hunting grounds. Moreover, as soon as he inherited the family after his father passed away, he sold what needed to be sold, tidied up what needed tidying, and invested in everything that could actually generate money – profitable mines, railway bonds, stocks, buildings. That’s how a family head should be to keep the family alive. If you were to name one family in England that will never go bankrupt, it would be the Dalton family.”

Miss Lance asked, half dazed:

“Mother, Mr. Dalton didn’t say a word about any of this today. Where did you get all this information?”

Mrs. Lance answered without a hint of shame:

“Your aunt who married into Yorkshire found out by asking around the neighbors. There are many maidens who need to be married off in that area too, so whenever they gather, they talk about Ian Dalton.”

Miss Lance sighed and looked at her mother’s face. If her father was a devotee of titles, her mother was a more practical worshipper of material wealth. Miss Lance, once again realizing how fortunate it was that she didn’t take after her parents, expressed her noble stance.

“Mother, I like Mr. Dalton because he’s charming and gentlemanly. I’m not thinking beyond that. Money and land, well, they’re practical matters so they can’t be completely ignored, but still, I won’t marry without genuine attraction.”

Mrs. Lance, who had lived her entire life tightening her belt due to a husband who had a penchant for waste without any ability, found her daughter’s naivety both cute and equally pathetic.

“So, when do you think you’ll feel this genuine attraction or whatever for Mr. Dalton?”

“I’ve only seen Mr. Dalton twice, I said!”

“Whether it’s twice or twenty times, the fact that he’s handsome, rich, and unmarried won’t change. Ah, one thing could change though. While you’re waiting for your genuine attraction, another maiden could become Mrs. Dalton. And let me tell you, that maiden will probably be from a duke’s, marquis’s, or earl’s family. Her dowry will be about three times yours too. In these times of drought for eligible bachelors, Mr. Dalton can choose from plenty of ladies with better conditions than us in London. There are overflowing maidens who need to marry, but only a handful of eldest sons who inherit the fortune.”

As Mrs. Lance spoke, Miss Lance’s cheeks gradually swelled. Mrs. Lance thought, ‘Oh no.’ She had forgotten that her way of thinking, always following the flow of pounds, didn’t work at all for her daughter.

She immediately changed her approach to a way that would work better for her daughter. That is, fanning her daughter’s vanity.

“Dear, don’t make that expression. It makes your face look wrinkled. A pretty maiden like you should always smile. Smile like you did at the ball yesterday. Mr. Dalton was captivated by that smile.”

“Oh, Mother. What captivation? He just treated me politely, that’s all.”

“No, dear! That fellow’s eyes sparkled several times while looking at you. At first, he was dazed by your angelic face, and every time you turned your gaze elsewhere, he would look over all your charming features. Your beautiful hair, your fair shoulder line, your small and cute hands. And when he realized that there wasn’t a single thing about you that wasn’t beautiful, he couldn’t take his eyes off you!”

As she listened to her mother’s words, Miss Lance’s expression softened. However, her judgment had not yet been completely paralyzed by vanity.

“But how could someone who was captivated by me not ask me for a waltz that day? After Miss Pendleton went home, he just greeted me and left. I even turned down requests from other gentlemen, waiting to dance with him.”

“Dear, you’re saying this even after seeing Mr. Dalton dance with Miss Pendleton.”

“Ah, true, his waltz was very clumsy. I don’t like men who can’t dance.”

“He grew up under the care of an older sister after his mother passed away early. Poor thing. He’s not used to young women, so it seems he can only relax with old maids like Miss Pendleton.”

“Mother, you said we shouldn’t call Miss Pendleton an old maid?”

“That’s only in front of others. It’s fine when it’s just us.”

Miss Lance found it quite strange that her mother, who always treated her like a child, treated her like the other ladies only when gossiping about others.

For over half an hour after that, Mrs. Lance numbed Miss Lance’s reason and fanned her emotions with words as sweet as if her tongue was coated with honey.

He’s clearly fallen for you, he’s already mentally become your slave, if you give him a few chances, you’ll become Mrs. Dalton even before this summer arrives, and so on.

It was the kind of brainwashing that could make even someone with a firm will and clear judgment feel dizzy, let alone a maiden whose vanity had already taken root here and there in her mind like weeds due to the attention she had enjoyed in society.