Sensing something, he quickly urged his horse toward the source of the sound.

Ian quietly passed between the oak trees and entered the dense forest. Soon, he discovered two well-built boys standing by a secluded pond.

At a glance, he recognized them as his nephews Daniel and George Fairfax. Ten-year-old Daniel was aiming something in his hand toward a tree, while eight-year-old George stood beside him, anxiously tugging at his brother’s clothes and muttering incomprehensibly.

He slowly rode his horse towards them.

“Uncle Ian!”

George noticed him first and called out. Daniel quickly hid what he was holding behind his back. Without a word, Ian swiftly dismounted and approached them.

“How have you been?”

Ian silently held out his palm to Daniel. Knowing what this meant, Daniel desperately tried to defend what he had hidden behind his back.

“U-Uncle, this is just a wooden gun. We were just practicing target shooting among ourselves.”

“A wooden gun that makes the same sound as a regular rifle?”

“Yeah… We find it really strange too… Hehe…”

Daniel laughed awkwardly. But seeing Ian’s face, he quickly dropped his smile. His uncle was looking at him with the cold, expressionless face he usually wore when he was furious.

“Hand it over, Daniel Fairfax.”

Ian commanded sharply. Daniel looked at Ian, intending to resist a bit more, but soon placed what he had hidden behind his back into his uncle’s hand with a crestfallen expression.

A vein bulged slightly on Ian’s forehead. It was a hunting pistol. Not a toy, but a real pistol. He immediately removed all the bullets from the gun and put them in his pocket.

“Where did you get this?”

“F-Father said that since I’m ten now, I could play with… Ouch!”

Daniel cried out. Ian had grabbed his left ear before he could finish speaking.

“I’ll give you one more chance. Where did you get this?”

“I-I’m telling you, Father really gave it to me!”

“No, Uncle. That’s a lie. Brother stole it from Father’s gun bag!”

At George’s exclamation, Daniel glared at him with a terrifying look.

“You little snitch! You said you’d even lick my shoes if I let you shoot it once!”

George stuck out his tongue.

“That’s what you get for hogging it all to yourself!”

“Damn it…!”

“Shut your mouth, Daniel. This is entirely your fault. Not only did you disobey adults’ orders not to touch firearms until you’re fifteen, but you also stole and lied on top of that? It seems you’ve become quite undisciplined while I was away?”

Ian shook the ear he was holding.

“Ah, Uncle! Uncle! I’m sorry! Please, just…!”

He began to walk around the pond, dragging Daniel along. Daniel pleaded, sobbing, but Ian continued to pull him along expressionlessly. By the time they had made a full circle, Daniel’s face was bright red and covered in tears. Ian returned to where they had started and released his ear.

Daniel sniffled and glanced at his uncle. The uncle he knew was generally strict and unyielding. Completely different from his lenient and easygoing parents, and particularly terrifying when angry.

“I told you clearly. When you turn exactly fifteen, I’ll teach you how to shoot, and when you’re eighteen, I’ll persuade your mother to let you enlist in the navy instead of going to university. Everything will happen when the time comes, yet you couldn’t wait and did this already.”

Daniel hung his head low.

“I’m starting to think that putting you in the navy might weaken Britain’s forces. Perhaps I should somehow get you into university and make you a pastor instead?”

As Ian brought up the threat he often used when disciplining his mischievous nephew, Daniel jumped up.

“No, Uncle! I’d rather die than be cooped up in a parsonage reciting the Bible! I’m going to be a soldier!”

“If you want to be a soldier, first learn self-control. For a soldier, knowing when not to shoot is more important than being a good shot. If this happens again, I’ll move you to my mansion and thoroughly fix that mindset of yours.”

Daniel nodded, suddenly very disciplined. Ian mounted his tethered horse. Then he spoke to his nephew.

“Your punishment is cleaning the stables for a week.”

“Uncle!”

Ian silently stared at Daniel, and Daniel lowered his head again. George, who had been watching his brother getting scolded by their uncle, giggled. Ian sternly ordered George as well.

“George, you help your brother for a week.”

George jumped up in protest.

“Uncle, I didn’t steal anything! I didn’t even touch the gun!”

“Cleaning horse manure together will teach you not to tag along next time your brother is up to no good.”

With that, Ian pulled on the reins. He heard the two boys wailing behind him, but it was none of his concern.

His heart, which had gone cold since discovering Daniel with the gun earlier, remained chilled even now after retrieving it. What if they had been horsing around with that gun and accidentally fired it at themselves?

He imagined his troublemaker nephew rolling on the ground, bleeding from a gunshot wound. It was a chilling thought.

As his horse emerged from the forest, a neatly maintained park spread out in contrast to the dense hunting grounds. It was Dunville Park, famous for its pristine riding paths and beautiful garden walkways.

He galloped across the lawn towards the majestic mansion visible in the distance. Upon reaching the front of the mansion, he pulled the reins to stop his horse and lightly jumped down from the saddle. He then handed the horse to a servant who quickly approached and headed for the entrance.

He entered the mansion and climbed the stairs to the second floor. Then he knocked on the room located at the far end of the second floor. Soon, a woman’s voice was heard from inside, telling him to enter.

As soon as he entered, he saw his sister, Mrs. Robert Fairfax, sitting in front of the fireplace at the far end of the room. A middle-aged lady with a small frame, graying hair, and a sickly complexion. Seated at a small table, she exclaimed with a beaming face upon seeing her younger brother.

“Oh, Ian! Come in!”

But Ian’s expression didn’t brighten at all. He walked resolutely to his sister and stood in front of the table. Then he took out the gun that Daniel had been playing with earlier from his pocket and placed it on the table.

“What’s this?”

“Your two sons were playing with it.”

“So you made them clean the stables again?”

“Yes.”

“They’ll be smelling of horse manure for a while. By the way, Ian, look at this card reading.”

Ian glanced at the table. Colorful cards were scattered across the velvet-covered table.

“Your sons were playing with live ammunition, and you want me to look at cards now?”

“Well, they didn’t shoot each other to death, did they?”

She looked at her younger brother with an expression that suggested he was making a fuss over nothing, then turned her attention back to the cards. It was exactly the reaction he had expected.

He thought it would be better to have a proper conversation with his brother-in-law later. He would surely laugh it off, saying boys will be boys as they grow up, but at least he might become more vigilant about someone stealing his precious gun.

“Hey, look at this, will you?”

His sister pestered him once more. Ian scanned the cards with disinterested curiosity, wondering what celestial secrets this card reading his sister was so fond of might reveal this time.

One card showed a naked woman drawing water from a lake, another depicted a man lying down, butchered by a sword, and yet another showed Adam and Eve holding hands before God.

“Ian, you’ve met someone in London, haven’t you? The cards say you’ll be married within the year. Oh my, Ian. Tell me quickly. Who is it, hmm?”

“There’s no such person.”

“That’s impossible. Surely women must have swarmed around you like bees, not letting you go. Are you saying you still haven’t chosen one of them?”

“I’m not popular among ladies.”

Mrs. Fairfax clearly didn’t believe him.

“Then young Master William must have lied to me. He told me all about how popular you were in London. He filled the entire back of the letter telling me about it.”

‘That unhelpful fellow,’ Dalton sighed inwardly.

“Besides, I heard you were quite receptive. Accepting invitations from ladies, attending formal dinners, frequently going to tea parties, and even picnics?”

“I just attended when invited.”

“Since when did you start accepting invitations?”

“Do I appear to be such an ill-mannered ruffian in your eyes, Sister?”

Mrs. Fairfax snorted.

“Of course. You, having manners? The horse you rode in on would laugh at that. You, who reprimanded the Sheffield district judge, a man old enough to be your father, telling him to go home quietly when he was drunk?”

Mr. Dalton frowned at the memory of that magistrate.

“Was it wrong to point out that someone who doesn’t realize their own vulgarity was inviting disgrace upon themselves?”

“Well, yes, he was drunk and compared parts of his wife’s body to certain animal parts, so of course you could. But because of that, he won’t dine with you or anyone close to you ever again. Thanks to you, I haven’t seen his face in five years.”

Mrs. Fairfax waved her hand dismissively.

“Anyway, that’s not important. There’s no way you suddenly developed social skills you never had before in London, right? Hmm? Be honest. There was a lady you fancied at those gatherings you attended, wasn’t there? Right?”

Mr. Dalton remained silent.

“Could it be Miss Pendleton, who appeared frequently in young Master William’s letters? The one who danced with you and often hosted the tea parties you frequented?”