The next morning, Laura Pendleton had breakfast with two ladies. While Miss Mary Lotis read the newspaper and smoked a cigar, Laura was led by Jane Hyde’s hand to explore the rooms used by the two ladies.

Miss Mary Lotis’s room had doors that slid open to either side. When Laura grasped the golden handle and pushed, the scenery of a room filled with dark tones was revealed. A large bed adorned with red damask fabric and black velvet, copper candlesticks, a desk crafted from the finest oak, and walls covered with ukiyo-e prints.

As Laura admired the mysterious scenery, her gaze stopped at one point.

And she let out a far-from-quiet scream.

“Oh my, I should have warned you! I’m sorry, Miss Pendleton.”

Realizing what had startled Laura, Jane Hyde hurriedly apologized. But Laura was too shocked to respond. Fear had frozen her tongue to its roots.

Instead of curtains, a large lion’s hide hung over the wide glass door leading to the veranda. Its four legs were spread wide, its jaws gaping open.

The mane gleamed like that of a living animal, and the teeth shimmered sharply, as if ready to tear into a freshly hunted deer.

“W-what… is that… it’s fake, right? It has to be, doesn’t it?”

“It’s real. Miss Lotis hunted it herself in Africa and skinned it.”

“She hunted it herself?”

“Yes. Miss Lotis is an expert marksman, especially skilled at hunting large animals. Buffalo, leopards, elephants—there’s hardly an animal she hasn’t hunted. And she skinned them all herself, of course. But since it’s impractical to carry them all while traveling, she gave most of them away as gifts to those around her, keeping only her favorite lion hide.”

It was hard to imagine. Miss Lotis was petite and limped on one leg. Could such a woman have hunted a buffalo?

Jane Hyde led Laura by the hand toward the lion hide. She reached out and stroked its head as if petting a beloved shepherd dog.

“There’s nothing to fear. Look, it’s completely dead.”

Indeed, the lion showed no reaction to Jane Hyde’s touch. But to Laura, whether it was dead or alive didn’t matter.

Laura had been terrified of large animals since childhood. That was why she had never learned to ride horses, a common pastime for ladies.

“Oh, if only I could hunt a lion…” Jane Hyde murmured a wish Laura could never relate to.

Come to think of it, Jane Hyde was an exceptional rider. During fox-hunting season, she occasionally carried a rifle and roamed the hunting grounds with her brother. William Fairfax had been so smitten by her that he followed her around for months.

“Doesn’t Miss Lotis plan to return to Africa? I bet she’d take you to where the lions are,” Laura said.

“She’s not going back to Africa. She’s spent so much time there already. Her next destination is probably Japan.”

Jane Hyde’s voice carried a hint of anticipation.

“Are you going with her, Miss Hyde?”

“Yes, as long as Miss Lotis doesn’t dismiss me.”

The two then explored Jane Hyde’s room. It was as spacious and charming as Miss Lotis’s.

As Laura looked around, she suddenly noticed a pile of papers scattered on the desk. Ink stains marred the pages, filled with Jane Hyde’s lively handwriting.

Noticing Laura’s gaze on the papers, Jane Hyde quickly stepped between the desk and Laura.

“Your diary?” Laura asked.

Blushing furiously, Jane Hyde shook her head.

“…It’s a novel.”

Laura was taken aback.

“You’re writing a novel, Miss Hyde?”

“I started jotting things down when I began boarding. But I only started working on it seriously after coming here…”

“Can I read it?”

“No!”

Jane Hyde shook her head vigorously.

“Later, when it’s more polished, I’ll show it to you.”

With that, she turned to the desk and hurriedly began organizing the manuscript.

Laura didn’t press further. Jane Hyde’s ears had turned as red as glowing coals.

Instead, while Jane tidied her manuscript, Laura slowly surveyed the room, lost in thought.

She recalled the boarding house where she had stayed with Jane Hyde a few months ago. It was practical and tidy, perfect for a single lady, but compared to the hotel room she now occupied, it seemed rather modest.

Jane Hyde had mustered the courage to leave the cramped townhouse room. She had moved from a ladies’ boarding house in a commuter town to this splendid hotel room. And with each change of residence, she grew closer to her dreams.

Laura found Jane Hyde’s steady growth inspiring.

It was true that Laura had helped her at the starting point. But it was Jane who had made the decisions and acted on them. Laura believed Jane’s growth was just beginning. She would stretch further and further.

Like a stone Jane Hyde had once skipped across a river, far beyond the horizon.

At noon, the ladies headed to a French restaurant.

The reserved table was for two, but adding one more person didn’t mean there wasn’t enough room for plates. The waiter brought an extra chair, and Laura naturally sat between Jane Hyde and Miss Mary Lotis.

“I was so shocked to see the lion hide in your room, Miss Lotis. You hunted it yourself?” Laura asked while they waited for their food.

Miss Lotis, who had hung her cane on the side of her chair and was sipping pre-ordered wine, nodded.

“It was my fourth year in Africa. I was feeling restless, and it was a good change of pace.”

“Was something troubling you then?” Laura asked.

Miss Lotis chuckled.

“My coffee plantation had burned down, ruining the entire land. It was complete bankruptcy.”

Laura, surprised, glanced at Jane Hyde. Jane, as if already familiar with the story, gave a wry smile and subtly nodded toward Miss Lotis, urging Laura to listen on.

“When I was eighteen, I inherited two hundred thousand pounds as my great-aunt’s sole heir. Everyone around me was certain I’d use that money to dive into London’s social scene and hunt for a husband. No one imagined I’d board a ship to Africa, limping with my cane.”

“But you did, Miss Lotis,” Jane Hyde interjected.

“Yes, I did. I grew coffee there and, during the off-season, hunted animals in the true wilderness, not some quaint English hunting ground. I’ve never felt more alive. If I had stayed on the plantation, blaming my leg, I’d have become a wreck after the bankruptcy.”

Miss Lotis continued calmly.

“I kept the hides of the animals I hunted in my lodging. Seeing them gave me confidence in my strength. I may have failed as a farmer, but my life wasn’t a failure. So I started writing. At first, I wrote about coffee cultivation, but the results were mediocre, and publishers rejected them. But my travelogue, weaving together my experiences in Africa, was accepted and became a bestseller in England upon publication.”

Laura was in awe.

“That’s incredible. So, you decided to become a travel writer?”

“Yes. I traveled to Egypt, India, the Qing Dynasty, writing tirelessly. In carriages, on ships, sometimes on camels. Losing the farm was a stroke of luck. Africa is a fascinating land, but a farmer isn’t as free as a travel writer. I finally grasped the windswept life I vaguely dreamed of when I left for Africa.”

The ordered scallop dish, veal roast, and shrimp dish arrived.

Laura ate but couldn’t taste the food. The astonishing adventure story she’d just heard had left her mind numb, dulling even her sense of taste.

“Is the food not to your liking?” Jane Hyde asked.

Laura shook her head and turned her gaze back to Miss Lotis.

“You’ve lived an extraordinary life, Miss Lotis.”

“And a dangerous one. I nearly died several times.”

“How so?”

“A ship almost sank in a typhoon, and I encountered bandits in Egypt. In the Qing Dynasty, right after their war with France, they seemed ready to kill any Westerner on sight. I carried a gun throughout my travels. Even when I slept.”

She chuckled.

“In England, I don’t need to carry a gun to survive, which is nice. Otherwise, it’s not much better than other places.”

Miss Lotis focused on her meal after that. The veal seemed to suit her taste. Not wanting to disturb her, Laura focused on her shrimp dish.

They parted in front of the restaurant after the meal. Miss Lotis had a two o’clock appointment for tea with a publisher staying in Bath, and Jane Hyde, her secretary, needed to attend. The two took a hired carriage.

Leaning against the carriage window with a roguish yet charming air, Miss Lotis smiled at Laura Pendleton.

“Enjoy Bath to the fullest, Miss Pendleton.”

Jane Hyde, seated beside her, poked her face out the window.

“Everything you could want is here!”

Laura grinned.

“Goodness, it sounds like paradise. Will I find the peace and stability I’ve always wanted?”

“If you look hard enough!”

The carriage pulled away from Laura Pendleton.

Laura began walking the streets of Bath for a stroll.

Marble architecture in the style of the 16th century, fountains at the center of intersections, shop windows displaying goods as beautifully as paintings, and fashionably dressed gentlemen and ladies. Walking among them, Laura thought Bath was indeed a city that captivated the soul.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling, just as she had in London’s social scene, that she was like oil floating on water. Peace and stability? Those didn’t seem to exist in this luxurious resort city. Perhaps in Dunville Park or the woods of Whitefield, but not here.

Laura’s mind drifted from the uninteresting street scenery to the lunch she’d just had.

She had never met a woman like Miss Lotis. So brave, so progressive. She was surely born with a spark in her heart.

Miss Mary Lotis was a woman destined to expand the possibilities for women and inspire lives with her extraordinary fate.

“Unlike me,” Laura thought calmly, without much self-pity.