A lady, dressed in a velvet coat with her hair elegantly styled, walked into the café.

There was something distinctly unique about her. It was a charm that could not be captured by mundane words like “pretty” or “refined.”

She was intellectual yet wild, sharp yet sensual. It was a rare allure, one not easily found among others. For this reason, no one who saw her could forget her.

Taking off her stifling kidskin gloves, she scanned the tables. The café was half-filled, but the person she was looking for was nowhere to be seen.

“Not here yet,” she thought.

She slowly took a seat at an empty table. When a uniformed waiter approached, she ordered a cup of coffee.

Lately, she had been favoring coffee over tea, influenced by someone she lived with.

When the coffee arrived, she sipped the dark, bitter liquid without adding sugar, her eyes fixed on the entrance, waiting for the person she was meeting.

A gentleman approached her table.

“Good day, Miss Hyde.”

Miss Hyde looked up at the gentleman. He was the same man who had been sitting in a corner of the café, sipping tea, dressed in an early autumn frock coat. Blinking in surprise, she quickly stood up.

“Mr. Dalton, I didn’t recognize you at all! What on earth has happened since last summer?”

Mr. Dalton gave a wry smile without responding.

They shook hands and sat down. The waiter brought over the tea Mr. Dalton had been drinking at his previous table.

That morning, Miss Hyde had received a note. Surprisingly, it was from Mr. Dalton, proposing they meet for tea at three o’clock at Morrison’s, a café two blocks from the Lorelia Hotel.

At the end of the note, he had asked her to keep it a secret from Laura. She had told Miss Pendleton and Miss Lotis she was stepping out briefly and left the hotel.

Sipping her coffee, Miss Hyde stared at Mr. Dalton across the table. His face looked unwell.

When she first met him in London, he had been quite a striking man. His face was like a sculpture meticulously crafted by an aesthetic artist who spared no time for sleep.

Though Miss Hyde wasn’t particularly interested in men’s appearances, she could understand why every maiden in London was smitten with him. She wasn’t devoid of aesthetic appreciation, after all.

But the Mr. Dalton before her now was a stark contrast to that time. His complexion was alarmingly pale, and dark shadows, like those of a corpse, lay beneath his eyes.

Though this appearance wasn’t without its own charm, Miss Hyde was primarily concerned for his health.

“You look completely different from when we played skimming stones in the countryside. Have you been ill recently?”

Mr. Dalton shook his head.

“No need to worry about my health, Miss Hyde. I don’t get sick easily, even if I skip meals or sleep.”

“That sounds like you haven’t been eating or sleeping lately.”

He lowered his eyes in silence, staring at the table. His long eyelashes cast a shadow, making the dark circles under his eyes even more pronounced.

She decided to get to the point.

“Why did you ask me to come here?”

“You must know I’m the man who caused a stir among our group at the mineral spring hall two months ago.”

“Yes. And that you followed Miss Pendleton when she was alone and led her to meet her old love. Why did you do that? Miss Pendleton rarely goes out except for our group’s plans, so the chances of her running into that man were practically zero.”

“I wish I could go back and trip over my own feet.”

He furrowed his brow.

“After that mistake, I resolved not to follow her around recklessly. Because of that, I have no way of knowing if she’s still meeting John Ashton. Miss Hyde, is Miss Pendleton seeing John Ashton?”

Miss Hyde had sensed Mr. Dalton’s feelings since their days in London, where he ran a publishing house. After Lady Abigail’s passing, he had searched every lodging in London for Miss Pendleton, informed Miss Hyde of her whereabouts, and ensured she was brought to a safe boarding house.

For that reason, she hesitated briefly before telling the truth, knowing it would pain him.

But her inclination was to prioritize truth over consideration.

“She visits Mr. Ashton once a week to check on his health. She stays there for over three hours each time.”

Mr. Dalton’s face crumbled rapidly. Grimacing as if struck by a headache, he clutched his head with both hands and bowed over the table.

Miss Hyde now understood why he looked so sickly. What man could maintain proper habits of eating and sleeping when the woman he loved was spending time with her first love?

“Does it seem like her love for him has been rekindled?”

“Well, she’s always been reserved in expressing emotions. She did mention a few things about Mr. Ashton’s daughter, though. She said she’s bright and lovely, and it pains her to see such a frail child.”

Her words seemed to deepen his anguish, and he let out a faint groan.

“A kind soul. Miss Pendleton is already feeling maternal affection for his daughter.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions. She’s always been fond of children and full of compassion.”

“That’s the problem.”

He gritted his teeth in distress.

“For two months, she’s been visiting a bedridden patient and his young daughter once a week. The patient is her first love, and he still loves her. What situation could be more perfect for a compassionate lady to fall in love?”

Miss Hyde tilted her head.

“Mr. Dalton, why are you so anxious? She’s someone who can distinguish between compassion and love. Your biggest problem seems to be your lack of trust in Miss Pendleton.”

He sighed.

“I admit it. I can barely keep calm when it comes to Miss Pendleton. She’s an independent, resolute woman. That’s one of the reasons I love her, but it’s also what makes me afraid.”

He looked up at Miss Hyde.

“I heard she’s started working as a translator. Is that true?”

“Yes. She recently finished a book and earned a hundred pounds. She says it feels like she’s found another calling besides teaching.”

“She’ll be wealthy soon.”

“Indeed. She works quickly and accurately, so she’s already getting offers for more projects.”

Miss Hyde spoke plainly, delivering only the truth. It was what Mr. Dalton wanted, yet each word struck him like a dagger.

Watching his pain, she clicked her tongue inwardly. She rather liked Mr. Dalton. After all, no one could skim stones as well as he did. He was also a friend of Mr. Fairfax.

Seeing him stumble and suffer in love was almost pitiful to watch.

“Mr. Dalton, don’t be so frantic. It only makes things worse. Let Miss Pendleton decide her own future—whether it’s with you, Mr. Ashton, or as a single translator.”

“If that were possible, I wouldn’t have spent the last two months glued to my window, waiting for a glimpse of her. I love her. This love is driving me to my death. If I’d known love was this painful, I would’ve handed Whitefield to one of my cousins long ago and sworn to stay a bachelor.”

In Miss Hyde’s eyes, there wasn’t pity—she wasn’t an overly compassionate person—but neither was there disdain. If anything, it was a kind of empathy.

However, she revered Miss Pendleton like a spiritual mother. She couldn’t tolerate his love obstructing Miss Pendleton’s path.

“Mr. Dalton, you’re slowly burning to death in love. It’s very romantic. Tragic and beautiful, like Romeo and Juliet. But we live in reality. Remember that Miss Pendleton is her own master.”

Miss Hyde continued coolly.

“She’ll decide her own path. Even if you waste away from love, she bears no responsibility for it. If you truly love her, tell her you’ll respect her decisions. That’s far more admirable than begging for her love.”

Finishing her words, Miss Hyde signaled the waiter to pay for her coffee and leave a tip.

“By the way, Miss Pendleton won’t be leaving the hotel for a while. She’s caught a cold.”

Mr. Dalton, who had been staring at his teacup with a troubled expression, looked up sharply.

“How did that happen?”

“Yesterday, she walked home for an hour in a silk dress. She lost her overcoat outside. It’s unlike her to make such a mistake—quite odd.”

“Is it serious?”

“She’s feeling under the weather, but it’s not too bad. The doctor said a week of rest should do the trick.”

But Mr. Dalton’s face looked as if Laura had received a terminal diagnosis.

“Is there a nurse?”

“Yes. There’s a nurse, myself, and Miss Lotis. We’re a team looking after Miss Pendleton. She’s our dear friend.”

He exhaled, seemingly relieved.

“Miss Hyde.”

As they left the café, Mr. Dalton spoke, his hands in his frock coat pockets.

“I’ve been worried about how Miss Pendleton is faring in Bath. Is she comfortable? Is she struggling among difficult people? Meeting you has put my mind at ease. I’m glad she has someone like you by her side.”

Miss Hyde gave a faint smile.

“The kindness I show Miss Pendleton doesn’t amount to a hundredth of what she’s done for me.”

Mr. Dalton extended his hand. Miss Hyde placed hers in it.

“Please continue to look after Miss Pendleton. Goodbye.”

He formally kissed the back of her hand.

“It’s always the routine when parting with gentlemen, but it feels so contrived,” she thought.

Miss Hyde nodded lightly, turned, and began walking in the opposite direction.

She wanted to get away from Mr. Dalton quickly. Meeting someone from her old socialite days made her feel as if she’d been transported back to that time. An unhappy, stifling time, like a bird trapped in a cage.

It was Miss Pendleton who had freed her from that cage. Now, she was soaring with her wings spread wide in the open sky.