“I’m hearing from you the words that men who’ve been rejected in their proposals always say. Well, alright. In fact, it’s not uncommon for gentlemen or ladies to test the waters with marriage talk. But that’s just a shallow trick, and Miss Pendleton is not a lady who would test the heart of the man she loves in such a way. She doesn’t have you in her heart, Ian.”

“I know that. It’s obvious since she won’t meet me at all after that incident.”

William sighed.

So that’s why Miss Pendleton has been smiling awkwardly and trying to change the subject whenever Ian’s name comes up lately.

“I think your priority should be to restore your friendship with Miss Pendleton first. If you start over as friends, you might get a chance to win her heart.”

“I agree, William. But I can’t leave that old man alone. I have to get rid of him somehow. If not with a gun, then by some other means.”

“Ian, it’s true that the current situation is unpleasant for Miss Pendleton. However, I think we should let Miss Pendleton resolve things with that man on her own.”

“What?”

Ian looked at his friend with fierce eyes again. But William remained calm.

“Miss Pendleton is an excellent lady, but objectively speaking, she lacks in birth and fortune. In a position without the protection of a family head, it seems like one could trifle with her without much consequence. It’s unfortunate, but most people see it that way.”

“…”

“I heard that after her debut, numerous unworthy men flocked around her. They kept coming even after she passed the prime marriage age. Some, like Mr. Price, wanting to make her their second wife might even be considered decent, while others wanted to make her their mistress or just play around with her as a lover. Disgusting creatures.”

As he listened, a thin vein bulged on Ian’s forehead.

“But Miss Pendleton has never once fallen for such temptations. She’s always cut them off so cleanly that these unworthy men have retreated, crawling away. I think this time will be the same; she won’t succumb to external pressure and accept Mr. Price’s proposal. Ian, Miss Pendleton will be able to handle Mr. Price on her own.”

“…So you’re saying I should do nothing and just watch from the sidelines.”

“My only intention is to increase your chances of marrying Miss Pendleton. If you interfere now, it will only worsen the relationship. She liked you very much as a friend, and even after rejecting you, she regrets losing your friendship. But if you cause trouble for Mr. Price, who is a friend of Mr. Pendleton, in this situation where there might still be a slight chance, you’ll be completely ruined in Miss Pendleton’s eyes. Forget marriage, she won’t even exchange a word with you.”

Ian stubbed out the cigar he was smoking in the ashtray and stood up from the desk he was leaning on. Then he walked to the fireplace on one side of the study. He stood there in front of the fireplace with his hands in his pockets.

William, who had spent more time with Ian than alone throughout his life, sensed a precarious atmosphere on the verge of explosion in Ian’s state.

From his footsteps towards the fireplace, from Ian’s rigid back standing motionless by the fire, from the suppressed sound of his breathing, William Fairfax could feel his friend’s anger that had no outlet.

William felt quite uncomfortable, as if he was seeing himself when he once courted Miss Hyde. The heart of a man who cannot save the woman he loves from difficulties is a battleground of anger and misery.

Moreover, Ian (though he would certainly rage if told this to his face) was a man of much more romantic and sensitive temperament than himself. He was a person who didn’t give his love easily, but once he did, he was devoted and blind. For such a man, the fact that he couldn’t save the woman he loved from humiliation must be an unbearable pain.

Ian stood frozen in place. After about five minutes, William cautiously approached Ian’s side. Ian was glaring at the flames with a pale face. His eyes were shining brightly with anger and even greater pain.

William carefully began to speak.

“I thought earlier, if your feelings are reciprocated, it would be a happy ending for both of you. I believe this not out of friendship, but from an objective standpoint. You are a man who can make Miss Pendleton happy in every way.”

Ian remained silent.

“If you could just win Miss Pendleton’s love, you could protect her for life. She could wear Ian Dalton as armor forever. So please be careful. You mustn’t give in to this anger now.”

Ian continued to stare at the flames. His jaw trembled slightly, and his eyes burned as if the firelight had caught in them. He stood there, suppressing his ragged breathing.

After a while, Ian muttered quietly.

“I feel like finding each of those who insulted her and giving them a good thrashing. Starting with that old man, one by one.”

William, alarmed, put his hand on Ian’s shoulder.

“Ian, calm down…”

“William.”

Ian took out the gun from inside his jacket and held it out to him.

“If I try to do anything like that, shoot me with this gun immediately.”

William took the gun. Ian turned and left the study. Soon, the sound of a door closing was heard from the guest room across from the study.

William felt greatly relieved. He had at least prevented Ian from engaging in a duel of honor. He had done the best he could as a friend to both Ian and Miss Pendleton.

Ian entered the guest room. His luggage was neatly placed on the small side table in the room. Instead of going to the bed, he sat in the chair next to the side table.

Then he took out a silver cigarette case from his bag and lit one. The strong cigar smoke circled his lungs once before escaping. But it was still not enough to subdue the anger that was licking at his insides.

The anger that had surged since receiving William’s letter in Whitefield showed no signs of cooling, burning in his stomach. He wanted to kick away the fellow hovering around her and drive him out of London, out of England for good.

But if he did that, he would sever all ties with Miss Pendleton forever. He would never be able to see her smile again. No, he wouldn’t be able to see her at all.

Rather than that, it was better to let his insides burn black with anger that had nowhere to go.

As he smoked, he recalled her again. The place by the fire where he always sat across from her. The deep shadows cast on her face near the fireplace. Her clear and gentle expression. Her elegant and intelligent voice.

The image of her that had gripped his heart throughout his stay in Whitefield tormented him again. He squeezed his eyes shut. His heart fluttered and he felt breathless. He wanted to see her. He wanted to face her again. It felt like he could pay any price if he could see her again.

His directionless anger, combined with longing for the woman he loved, was agonizing to the point of death. He sat there at the side table, eyes closed, holding the burned-out cigarette.

She was much closer than Whitefield. But he still couldn’t approach her. Could there be a more terrible torture than this? He exhaled softly, biting his lip. He missed her. So much…

He paced around the room, having smoked all his cigarettes but still feeling unsettled. Though he hadn’t slept properly for days and was in no condition, he wasn’t in the mood to sleep. He sat at the desk in one corner of the room and started writing a letter to Miss Pendleton, but soon crumpled up the paper. Then he took out another piece of paper, scribbled on it, and discarded it again.

Even if he let her know he had arrived in London, she wouldn’t meet him. She would be on guard, just like before. So what was the point of writing a letter? He leaned on the desk, holding his head, and pondered ways to meet her again. But nothing came to mind. No way to break through her wariness.

A few hours might have passed like this. There was a knock at the door. When he answered, the face of William’s sister Janet peeked in through the door. Janet’s cheeks were flushed as if she had been drinking in the afternoon.

“Brother Ian, are you busy?”

Ian looked at Janet with a tired face.

“Why?”

“Well, Miss Lance has visited and heard that you’re in London. She says she really wants to meet you.”

“Miss Lance? Who’s that?”

Miss Janet looked at Ian with wide eyes.

“Dora Lance. Don’t you remember? You even had dinner at the Lance house!”

He tried to recall his memories of London for a moment. Dora Lance. He couldn’t remember at all. Since he didn’t think anything in London besides his time with Miss Pendleton was worth remembering, he had quickly forgotten.

He rummaged through the album of memories related to Miss Pendleton and soon found one lady.

Ah, the friend Miss Pendleton introduced at that ball?

Now he remembered her clearly. Her face that smiled excessively at him, her unremarkable opinions, and her attitude that clung to him strangely, embarrassing people. Ian had seen so many such young ladies that if Miss Lance hadn’t been Miss Pendleton’s friend, he wouldn’t have remembered even her face, let alone her name.

“Miss Lance wants to see me? Why?”

Janet fumbled for words, not knowing what to say. Ian flatly refused to go down. He didn’t want to spend time with a lady like Miss Lance, nor was he in the mood to meet guests.

But Janet, having boasted that she would bring Ian down right away, didn’t have the courage to go down to the drawing room and disappoint Miss Lance. She mumbled to the cold Ian.

“But, Brother Ian. I told her you were home…”

“Tell her I’m sleeping, Janet.”

“At this hour? It would make you look very lazy.”

“Just say I came on the night train.”

Janet mumbled.

“Still, we even went on a picnic together last time…”

“What do I care…”

Ian, who had been speaking indifferently, suddenly stopped.

He remembered the expression Miss Pendleton had worn when they were returning from a walk in Hyde Park in London. The face that had blushed with joy when he had praised her friend to please Miss Pendleton.