“I’m sorry to hear that. Mrs. Lance must be quite upset. Miss Dora Lance is a precious daughter.”

“She’s taken to her bed with hysterics. Father has gone off to Italy to escape Mother’s fits. He’ll probably return with a heap of intriguing sculptures and paintings, which will only worsen her condition.”

Dora Lance spoke lightly, as if joking.

Mr. Fairfax was surprised. The situation must feel like a bolt from the blue for Dora Lance, yet she was casually making jests.

“She’s pretending to be unaffected,” he thought.

From what he had observed, Dora Lance was neither particularly resilient nor insensitive to others’ opinions. Surely, her heart was torn into a thousand pieces, yet her pride compelled her to act as usual.

“How hard it must be for her,” he thought.

He wanted to say that she didn’t need to pretend, that she could express her struggles freely. But he swallowed his words. Such kindness might be freely offered between friends of the same sex, but between a gentleman and a lady, it crossed a line.

Hiding his thoughts, he asked gently, “Even if tea time has been paused, you’re still meeting with friends regularly, I presume? How are Miss Victoria Wilkes, Miss Susan Donovan, and Miss Daisy Orson doing?”

“They’re terribly busy. You know that Miss Victoria Wilkes is engaged to Mr. George Orson, don’t you? They’re so caught up preparing for the engagement party that they haven’t had time to visit me.”

“What a pity. Your excellent taste would have been a great help with the preparations.”

Dora Lance gave an ambiguous smile.

“My friends seem to think associating with me brings more harm than good. Or rather, their mothers seem to think so. They send letters saying they miss me, but their mothers always forbid them from visiting.”

“Why on earth…”

“Mothers with daughters fear their girls associating with a friend of tarnished reputation as much as they fear consorting with the devil himself.”

A servant entered, pushing a tea cart with strong-brewed black tea, lemon cake, and madeleines.

Dora Lance offered him some refreshments. He sampled the desserts and complimented the chef’s skill, but it was merely a mechanical act of etiquette. The fact that Dora Lance had no friends to console her in her sadness weighed heavily on him, like a knot in his chest.

He set his teacup down after drinking half of it.

“If it’s not too forward, would you consider teaching my sister the harp, Miss Lance?”

Dora Lance, who had been sipping her tea, looked at him with a puzzled expression.

“She’s been learning the harp lately but isn’t improving much. If she could visit you two or three times a week to listen to your playing and receive some advice, I think it would greatly benefit her.”

“Well, it’s possible, but… would Miss Janet want that?”

“You know she adores you.”

“Still?”

“Of course.”

Dora Lance lowered her eyes, thinking for a moment before speaking.

“Do you think it would truly help Miss Janet?”

“What do you mean?”

“Would associating with someone like me be beneficial for Miss Janet?”

Mr. Fairfax’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Miss Janet is a young lady of the social season, looking for a suitable gentleman to marry. If she continues to associate with a lady of diminished value like me, her own value will inevitably decline. You care deeply for your sister, Mr. Fairfax. You should stop her from getting close to me, just as my friends’ mothers do.”

“That’s wrong. I don’t wish to speak ill of the ladies, but I believe it’s cruel to prevent daughters from visiting a friend in distress based solely on rumors.”

“It’s also a clever move, though.”

Dora Lance gave a faint smile.

“Besides, I don’t exactly welcome their visits either. In their letters, they always pity me and disparage Miss Abigail Pendleton. If they visited, it would only be worse. I don’t want to hear slander about Miss Pendleton, and I don’t want their pity.”

Dora Lance paused, seeming to reflect, then set her teacup down.

“You know everything, Mr. Fairfax. You know where Mr. Ian Dalton’s heart lies, the misconceptions I had, and how I crumbled when I learned the truth. You’re the only person I can bare my heart to right now. So, may I set aside the delicate boundaries of a gentleman and lady and be honest with you?”

Mr. Fairfax nodded. Dora Lance thanked him and slowly walked to the window. She gazed out at the lonely autumn scenery and began to speak.

“After returning from Whitefield, I cried terribly for days. I barely ate and slept only fitfully. If it had been purely the sorrow of lost love, it might have been rather romantic, but it was really the dread of an uncertain future. I’m not a foolish woman. The rumors have already spread far and wide, so I could see what was coming as clearly as day. I’ll be labeled as damaged goods. And by the time that label fades, I’ll be an old maid.”

She continued in a low voice.

“I thought I loved Mr. Dalton madly. I never seriously imagined it, but I thought I’d die if I lost him, like some abandoned heroine in an opera. But when I realized he didn’t love me, those feelings vanished as if washed away. All that remained was self-loathing.”

Mr. Fairfax rose and stood by Dora Lance’s side.

“Don’t blame yourself. Not everything is your fault. I, Mr. Dalton, your friends, and many others contributed to this situation.”

“But the greatest fault lies with me. When my mother and friends speculated recklessly about Mr. Dalton’s feelings, I let myself be swept along. I didn’t stop them when they spread rumors either. I placed too much value on my pretty face and thought I deserved the love of a great man like Mr. Dalton. My vanity blinded me and dulled my judgment. In the end, all the fault lies with me for not staying grounded.”

Mr. Fairfax was at a loss for words. He had never heard a lady confess her vanity so openly. Women typically refined their inner thoughts before expressing them, and for good reason—honesty came at a cost, one that women paid more harshly.

He found Dora Lance’s honesty courageous.

“Looking back, I realized how arrogant and immature I was. I fell for flattery and believed a man who had no interest in me was in love with me.”

“I should have noticed sooner. If I had given you proper advice, you might not have…”

“Don’t shield me, Mr. Fairfax. It only makes me more ashamed. I already received the realistic advice you’re talking about, but I misunderstood and dismissed it.”

“Who gave you that advice?”

“Miss Abigail Pendleton.”

Mr. Fairfax stared at Dora Lance in shock.

“She pointed out sharply that I was mistaken and that my misconceptions could lead to hardship. But I ignored her. If I had taken her words seriously back then, my reputation wouldn’t be as ruined as it is now.”

“…It seems Miss Pendleton had some inkling of Mr. Dalton’s feelings.”

“Perhaps. At the spring picnic, Miss Pendleton once hurriedly returned home to avoid Mr. Dalton. Thinking back, she might have been trying to evade his advances. I assumed the opposite, though.”

“At that time, Mr. Dalton intended to propose to Miss Pendleton, but she left for home before he could. Afterward, he kept his feelings hidden, so even Miss Pendleton likely didn’t know exactly where his heart lay.”

Mr. Fairfax added, wary of any misunderstanding. Dora Lance smiled.

“Don’t worry. I don’t think Miss Pendleton stood by and watched me falter while knowing everything. She went to great lengths for my sake.”

Dora Lance furrowed her brow and let out a sigh.

“I should open the window. Is that alright, Mr. Fairfax?”

He answered by opening the window himself. Cool autumn air rushed into the parlor, which had grown stuffy from the fireplace’s heat.

Dora Lance closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh air. Her glossy light brown hair fluttered in the breeze.

“Is Miss Pendleton still at Dunville Park?”

“No, she’s gone to Bath for a rest. She’s staying with Miss Jane Hyde and the travel writer Miss Mary Lotis at their residence. I hear she’s enjoying time with friends and has been introduced to more promising job opportunities.”

“That’s good to hear. I sincerely hope she’s doing well.”

A trace of complexity flickered in Dora Lance’s light blue eyes.

“The most shameful thing, looking back, is that I subtly looked down on Miss Pendleton. I thought of her as someone I needed to bestow charity upon, judging her solely by her lineage. But now, abandoned by everyone, I realize how remarkable she is. Despite being scorned by society, she never lost her dignity. She was always selfless and kind. There’s no finer lady than her.”

Mr. Fairfax gazed quietly at Dora Lance. Speaking so humbly and without resentment about Miss Pendleton, who had taken her love, she was remarkable.

“Perhaps I misjudged her,” he thought.

He had considered Dora Lance a naive young lady who still had growing to do. But the Dora Lance before him was more mature than anyone he had ever met. Her willingness to acknowledge her mistakes and learn from them was a strength even he, at thirty, found difficult to muster.

For the first time, he felt respect for Dora Lance.

Meanwhile, Dora Lance felt an overwhelming warmth from Mr. Fairfax’s presence. In her state of being shunned by all, he had visited her and listened patiently to her endless ramblings.

“Mr. Fairfax is a true gentleman, worth more than ten millionaires with ducal titles,” she thought.

She looked at him with eyes warmer than usual.