“Say it quickly. That you will accept the proposal. Hurry!”

The anger that had flared like fire in her heart dissipated helplessly in the face of fear. What if she became disabled like this? How would she live from now on? Her insides shrank in terror.

“Uncle! Please…… *sob*…… Yes, I understand. I’ll do as you wish, uncle! So please……”

Soon, the foot crushing her fingers lifted. Miss Pendleton clutched her hand and trembled violently as if convulsing. Apart from the tingling and stiff sensation as blood rushed back, she felt nothing in her hand. The crushed part felt like it had turned into a block of wood.

Gerald Pendleton went to sit in his chair and took out a new cigar from the cigarette box to smoke.

“Make sure to dress up well tomorrow. You may leave now.”

Miss Pendleton staggered out of the study. Her crushed hand was stained bright red with shoe marks. Miss Pendleton went straight to her room and threw herself on the bed. She buried her face in the pillow and sobbed.

A wave of misery washed over her. What had just happened opened the floodgates to memories of the past. How harsh her uncle’s mistreatment had been in her childhood, and how powerless she herself had been. For the dozens of years since leaving the Pendleton household, she had lived trying to escape the past.

As a top student who never missed first place in seven years at boarding school. As a proper lady and helpful friend in 12 years in society, she had strived to prove herself. To prove how useful a person she was, contrary to Gerald Pendleton’s contempt.

But the violence just now had merged her childhood and present that she had desperately tried to separate.

She felt like she was eight years old again, hit with an ashtray and running crying to the nursery.

She felt like she was nine, unjustly accused of stealing her uncle’s porcelain ornament and beaten unfairly.

She felt like she had returned to being ten, hurt by her uncle’s curses and soaking her bed with tears.

She had believed she would never submit again. She had sworn she would protect herself now. But in the end, again…… again……

She writhed. It felt like her heart would burst. She felt powerless, wronged, angry, and hated herself. The pain of not being able to save herself from the repeated abuse seemed to tear her apart.

There was a knock at the door. As if telling her to snap out of her agony.

She lifted her tear-stained face. She thought it might be her uncle, but realized he wouldn’t be so polite if he were coming in. She staggered to the door. She undid the latch and opened it to find Anne standing there with a worried expression, holding a small tray with a bowl of soup.

Anne spoke with a dejected look.

“I’m sorry…… I eavesdropped outside the study door.”

Miss Pendleton forced a smile on her pale face.

“Thank you, Anne.”

“Um, may I come in for a moment?”

“No, I’d like to be alone.”

As Miss Pendleton gently pushed her away, Anne nodded and held out the tray. Miss Pendleton felt she couldn’t swallow even a sip of water, let alone soup, but she didn’t want to refuse Anne’s kindness.

Miss Pendleton took the tray. But as soon as she grasped it, a sharp pain shot through all the fingers of her right hand.

“Ah!”

She reflexively let go of the tray.

Crash-

The soup bowl rolled on the floor.

Startled, Anne saw Miss Pendleton clutching her right hand. She quickly pulled Miss Pendleton’s arm to check. All the fingers of her right hand were swollen and bruised a dark red color.

Anne looked at Miss Pendleton with a horrified expression.

“Will you bring the first aid kit, Anne?”

Anne silently left the room and returned from downstairs with the first aid kit. When Anne returned, Miss Pendleton was cleaning up the spilled soup bowl on the floor with her uninjured hand.

Anne quickly stopped her and cleaned the floor herself before going to Miss Pendleton’s dressing table together. As Miss Pendleton sat in the dressing table chair, Anne knelt below and began applying ointment and wrapping bandages around her hand.

Anne was as careful as possible, but every time Anne’s fingers brushed against her, Miss Pendleton involuntarily flinched and let out a low groan. Anne’s heart felt like it was being torn apart at the sight of her mistress like this.

Why on earth did our young lady have to be treated this way? Why such a kind and precious young lady.

While inwardly fuming with rage, Anne’s hands ever so carefully wrapped Miss Pendleton’s hand with bandages.

“At least it seems the bones aren’t broken. That’s fortunate, I suppose.”

Anne looked up at Miss Pendleton, biting her lip. She looked like she might cry at any moment.

“How can you say that? Such a small and delicate hand subjected to such cruel treatment! Do you know how loud your scream was? I thought that scoundrel was strangling you!”

Miss Pendleton smiled faintly. After thinking for a moment, she said:

“It’s fortunate it wasn’t my neck. There aren’t many dresses that can cover the neck. With hands, I can go to the ball wearing gloves.”

Anne looked at Miss Pendleton with an incredulous expression.

“You’re going to the ball?”

“I need to see Mr. Price.”

Anne recalled the pot-bellied middle-aged gentleman Price in her mind and twisted her face in disgust.

“Surely you’re not going to follow Master Pendleton’s words? You’re not really going to accept that man’s proposal, are you?!”

Miss Pendleton stared at Anne.

“You heard everything, didn’t you?”

Anne was silent. She looked somewhat guilty. Miss Pendleton chuckled.

“It’s a good thing uncle didn’t catch you. You would have been in big trouble.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Even after seeing my hand?”

“If it were me, I would have thrown back whatever that scoundrel threw, I don’t know what he threw, but I would have smashed his face so badly he wouldn’t even know where his hand was attached.”

Miss Pendleton laughed out loud. Talking with Anne gradually lifted her spirits that had hit rock bottom.

But Anne’s heart ached even more at the sight of Miss Pendleton laughing weakly. She had served this young lady for 8 years. To her, who had suffered all sorts of humiliation from stingy and ill-tempered masters, Miss Pendleton was the best mistress. There was no mistress as kind and compassionate as her.

Anne stroked Miss Pendleton’s bandaged hand.

“Young lady. You’re not going to accept Mr. Price’s proposal, are you? You have the ability to live on your own, after all. You’re not like me who’s never even been near a school, you know Latin and Greek. You’ll leave the Pendleton household and become a governess as planned, right? Right?”

Miss Pendleton looked in the mirror. In the mirror, a face with bloodshot eyes and swollen features stared back at her.

“Anne, pick out a dress for me. One with a design flashy enough to cover this unsightly face for tomorrow.”

“Young lady, really……!”

Miss Pendleton turned from the mirror and smiled at Anne.

“Don’t worry. I won’t be changing my name to Laura Price. I just want to look perfect tomorrow. It will be my last ball in high society after all.”

“Your last…… ball?”

“Yes. I can no longer live as Laura Pendleton. Perhaps as Laura Sheldon though.”

Laura Sheldon? Anne looked at her mistress quizzically.

“Sheldon is my father’s surname.”

“Your father’s surname…… Then, young lady, with Mr. Price……”

“I won’t. That kind of marriage.”

Miss Pendleton turned to look in the mirror.

“From now on, I’m going to live proudly and freely. As Laura Sheldon.”

The next day, Miss Pendleton left the mansion looking completely different from usual. It wasn’t the silver silk dress or navy muslin dress she usually wore to balls. It was a dress she had worn only once at her society debut and never again.

A sky blue high-quality silk dress embroidered with silver thread and white flowers. A sapphire bracelet wrapped around her wrist over snow-white silk gloves sparkled dazzlingly. Her hair was not tied up in a hairnet as usual, but adorned with beautiful lilies, daffodils, and pearl ornaments.

Miss Pendleton rode in a white four-wheeled carriage engraved with the family crest to the ball. She first politely greeted Mrs. Lance who was welcoming guests at the entrance before entering the hall.

As she entered, people’s gazes turned to her. It was the first time they had seen Miss Pendleton, who had always been inconspicuous in her modest appearance, dressed up so elaborately. Some of them, not recognizing her as Miss Pendleton, even approached to ask her for a dance.

Miss Pendleton’s plan worked. Distracted by her radiant attire, her bloodshot eyes and dark under-eye circles were less noticeable. No one realized that she had barely slept, applying cold compresses all night to her swollen face.

Miss Pendleton declined all the gentlemen who asked her to dance. She slowly walked to one side of the ballroom, looking for Mr. Price and Miss Jensen.

“Miss Pendleton!”

Miss Pendleton turned at the voice coming from one side. Miss Lance was waving at her, surrounded by her friends. Miss Pendleton approached them.

Miss Lance and her friends were surprised by Miss Pendleton’s appearance as she drew closer. They had always thought her beautiful, but dressed up so radiantly like this, she looked as if she had just made her society debut.

Miss Lance’s friends looked at Miss Pendleton’s appearance with displeased expressions. It was because Miss Pendleton was too beautiful. As beautiful as, or perhaps even more than Dora Lance, who was supposed to be their pride and today’s main character. Miss Lance was supposed to be the most beautiful at today’s ball.

They whispered to each other nervously, worried that people’s attention on Miss Lance might lessen because of Miss Pendleton’s beauty.

But unlike her friends, Miss Lance was genuinely impressed by Miss Pendleton’s appearance.

“How did you dress up so beautifully? My goodness. I almost didn’t recognize you!”

“Of course I had to make an effort for the Lance family’s ball. By the way, Miss Lance, you look exceptionally beautiful too. Truly befitting the main character of today.”

Miss Lance, in a voluminous green dress with her hair adorned with fresh roses, laughed softly.

“I’ve been so busy with preparations since this morning. All day long, curling my hair, braiding and pinning it up, inserting flowers, tightening my corset, putting on the dress, applying perfume! I really couldn’t do this twice!”

Miss Lance shook her head as if overwhelmed. She exuded pride as the only daughter of one of the families hosting today’s ball. Miss Pendleton gave her the words that please a lady the most – asking detailed questions about the effort put into her appearance.

“This dress is one I haven’t seen before, it’s beautiful. It suits Miss Lance’s eye color well. Did you perhaps import it from abroad?”

Sure enough, Miss Lance’s face brightened.

“I’m glad you noticed. It’s a dress made by the most famous tailor in France. I sent the pattern separately for this embroidery though.”

Miss Lance looked down at the skirt of her dress. On the green dress background, intricate leaf patterns were embroidered in gold thread. It was beautifully matched to the material of the dress.

“It’s truly lovely. Miss Lance certainly has discerning taste and sensibility.”

“Oh my, you flatter me.”

Miss Lance blushed but couldn’t hide her joy at the compliment. After a few more praises, she soon began twirling in place as if showing off her dress.