“You’ve been the lady of the house by your grandmother’s side for 12 years? Managing all the affairs of this mansion, big and small.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Gerald Pendleton, rather displeased by the docile answer, glared at his niece.

“Your housekeeping skills must be decent, so why are you still unmarried?”

“I think I’ve been unlucky in various ways. And I’m lacking as well.”

Miss Pendleton answered as politely as possible to avoid creating a conflict.

“Ah, so you’re saying a suitable match hasn’t appeared yet?”

“I don’t have such presumptuous thoughts, uncle.”

Gerald Pendleton laughed softly. Then, putting on his hat for going out, he said:

“I don’t know what you’re scheming, but you’d better give up any thoughts of receiving anything from my mother or continuing to live in this house. When mother passes away, this house will belong to our Charles. As soon as the funeral is over, you’ll have to pack your bags and leave immediately. Figure out how to live on your own.”

He passed by Miss Pendleton and disappeared downstairs. Miss Pendleton stood still on the stairs. Her uncle’s attitude just now was the same as 20 years ago, except that he didn’t use physical violence. Twenty years had not erased his contempt and hatred for his niece at all.

Miss Pendleton looked towards where her uncle had disappeared. And she cast a cold gaze that she would never reveal in the light.

‘It’s exactly the same as before. Just like when he would curse at me unspeakably, beat me as a thief, and throw things to bruise my body.’

To her uncle, she was still just a freeloader to be removed, no different from a despicable rat worthy of contempt. Perhaps bearing the Pendleton name had long served as fertilizer for that hatred.

But she didn’t want to refute or be angry at her uncle’s gaze. She just calmly sneered.

Her uncle didn’t know what his niece was thinking. That ‘Pendleton’, which he considered the source of his identity and pride, was a shackle she had always wanted to shed.

She didn’t want to be bound by this shackle forever. Someday she would be free. She would discard Pendleton as her uncle wished. Not now, but definitely sometime soon.

She stood there for a moment, then quickly walked up the stairs. And as usual, she went up to her grandmother’s room to give her a goodnight kiss.

The next morning, Miss Jensen paid an unexpected visit to the Pendleton house. Her reason was that she wanted to see the house. Visiting like this without an invitation, and not even during tea time, was truly impolite behavior in British high society. But Miss Pendleton showed no particular reaction and slowly gave her a tour of the house.

Miss Jensen liked the interior of the townhouse and was even impressed. In fact, with her abilities, she could have acquired a splendid townhouse in any central area of England.

However, Grosvenor Street was an exception. Befitting its image as London’s representative wealthy district, properties on Grosvenor Street were carefully allocated considering bloodline, connections, and family status. It would be difficult for a woman of purely American origin like Miss Jensen to squeeze in. That is, without means such as marriage.

It was understandable why she showed such great interest in this house.

While Miss Jensen looked around the house, Miss Pendleton did her best to satisfy her frank interest in her future assets. She faithfully answered questions about the size of rooms, the history of furniture, and even the scale of housekeeping.

As Charles’s fiancée, Miss Jensen had the right to know all of that. Even if the day she took possession of this house would be the day Miss Pendleton was driven out empty-handed after Mrs. Abigail’s passing.

After finishing the house tour and having a meal together, the two sat facing each other in the drawing room drinking tea. While having the black tea and apricot cake offered by Miss Pendleton, Miss Jensen began to ask her in detail about London high society. From London’s most popular balls and dress trends to the most prominent ladies and their tea gatherings.

Miss Pendleton had appropriate answers to all those trivial questions. She provided rich and detailed answers sufficient to satisfy Miss Jensen’s curiosity.

After hearing all her explanations, Miss Jensen marveled:

“Miss Pendleton, you really know this neighborhood well. Well, you’ve been in this area for almost 12 years since your debut at seventeen. There’s probably nothing you don’t know.”

Miss Pendleton smiled gently as she drank her tea.

Miss Jensen watched Miss Pendleton bring the steaming teacup neatly to her lips. It was a graceful, clean gesture that matched her elegant face.

How proper, she thought, secretly smiling at Miss Pendleton, who was nearly five years her senior.

“It’s natural for a fish to know well the lake it lives in. I know nothing about the world outside this London society. This Grosvenor Street, a few places in London, and the boarding school where I spent my childhood are my entire world. But Miss Jensen, you made the bold decision to cross the ocean at a young age. I hear you’re planning to enter British high society?”

“Oh my, who told you that?”

“Yesterday, when Mr. Price stopped by briefly to retrieve his gloves. He asked me to look after Miss Jensen then.”

“My uncle? I was going to ask you formally, but he beat me to it.”

Miss Jensen laughed heartily.

“Miss Pendleton, I plan to stay in England with my uncle, that is, my godfather Tom Price, for a while. I might never return to America. If I marry Charles, I’ll settle down here. I’ll enter London society right after marrying Charles.”

“It will be quite busy to balance life at the vicarage and in London.”

“I’m not going down to the vicarage, Miss Pendleton. And Charles probably won’t go down either. We both love London.”

Miss Pendleton, who had been stirring inside her teacup with a teaspoon, suddenly stopped moving.

“…Oh, I see. There’s no law saying a vicar must live with his parishioners. I know many vicars who live in their own homes far away and commute for services. But London and the Pendleton estate are too far apart.”

“I don’t think Charles will be concerned about the distance. I distinctly heard him say, ‘I’m too lively a person to be stuck in a country vicarage with nothing to see just because it’s far away.'”

“When did he say such a thing?”

“When he proposed to me. When I asked if I had to live in the vicarage, he immediately said this. Instead of the vicarage, he offered me a townhouse on Grosvenor Street. This very place.”

Miss Jensen looked around the drawing room where she was sitting with a pleased expression.

“It’s much grander than the picture he showed me. It would be hard to get anything better than this through any marriage.”

Miss Pendleton felt conflicted as she watched Miss Jensen speak as if it was already hers. She must know what would become of Miss Pendleton’s fate after this house became Miss Jensen’s, yet she was so openly excited.

Yet her behavior didn’t feel like vulgar superiority. Judging by her attitude at yesterday’s dinner, she wasn’t oblivious to others’ feelings either.

‘Perhaps she’s heard some made-up story about my future. Maybe uncle lied to prevent Miss Jensen from hesitating to marry out of guilt. But what kind of lie could he have told?’

Laura was curious but swallowed her question, thinking it wasn’t a subject she could ask about directly.

“With a good mistress coming in, this gloomy townhouse will become lively. The servants and cooks of this townhouse are all diligent and excellent employees. The cook, in particular, is outstanding.”

“Ah, yes. That barbecue yesterday was really excellent. French, isn’t he?”

“Yes. His high salary is not wasted at all.”

“That’s good. The food served at a mansion is very important for socializing. It seems I’m lucky to be coming into this townhouse. But Miss Pendleton, I have one favor to ask.”

Miss Pendleton looked at her. Miss Jensen, uncharacteristically, leaned towards her and spoke in a half-lowered voice, almost whispering:

“Before Charles fully inherits this place, could you send away the young maids in advance?”

Miss Pendleton immediately grasped her intention. This morning, Miss Pendleton had caught Charles trying to harass a sixteen-year-old maid he had been eyeing yesterday. Miss Pendleton quickly made an excuse to take away the maid who was on the verge of tears, and reassigned her to the kitchen area where she wouldn’t encounter Charles.

“Write them letters of recommendation or something to help them move to good places. We’ve agreed not to care about how each other lives, but I don’t want to see his illegitimate child born in my house.”

Miss Pendleton silently nodded. And she racked her brain to move away from this topic. Miss Jensen was being uncomfortably frank, casually revealing not only her fiancé’s depravity but also her own calculated intentions for marriage.

“Miss Jensen, how many outfits did you prepare when coming from America?”

“One trunk. Originally there were three, but I lost two on the way here.”

“Oh no. How did that happen?”

“The name tags must have fallen off in the cargo hold. When the servant went to look for them upon arrival in London, someone had already taken them and they couldn’t be found. In the end, I lost all the carefully chosen picnic dresses and dinner dresses.”

“Oh dear.”

“But well, I’m trying not to worry about it. It’ll be easier to follow the trends if I have them made directly in London.”

“But it’s the peak of the social season now, so all the dressmakers will be fully booked.”

“Don’t you have a personal tailor?”

Miss Pendleton shook her head. For the first time since entering the townhouse, Miss Jensen became gloomy.

“What should I do then? The remaining trunk only has a few everyday outfits and a ball gown.”

Miss Pendleton thought for a moment and then suddenly suggested:

“How about trying Harrods department store?”

“The department store?”

“Yes. I went there once following some other ladies. Although all the items are ready-made, the quality is good and right in fashion. Anything that doesn’t fit perfectly can be adjusted by the servants at home.”

“Wow, that sounds good. Let’s go together sometime.”

“Anytime.”

At Miss Pendleton’s willing response, Miss Jensen stared intently at her face.

“Why are you looking at me like that, Miss Jensen?”

“You’re really kind, Miss Pendleton.”

Miss Pendleton skillfully hid her embarrassment by picking up her teacup and taking a sip.

“I heard a lot of praise through Gerald Pendleton, but I didn’t know you were this nice.”

Miss Pendleton was surprised by the fact that her uncle had praised her. Come to think of it, Mr. Price had also said he praised her through her uncle.