But her aunt was not comforting her.

“Does she feel disappointed in me?”

As this suspicion arose, Olivia Fairfax’s heart sank heavily.

She glanced sideways at her aunt from behind the handkerchief. Her aunt, with eyes cast downward, seemed lost in thought.

“What should I do? She must be angry.”

Olivia Fairfax’s tears dried up instantly.

“Was I acting too childishly? Or did she think it was presumptuous of me to assume my cousin would be named Olivia? Or perhaps she finds it deplorable that I tried to compete with that Hyde woman or whatever her name is. If she truly cares for Miss Hyde, that would make sense.”

At this last possibility, tears welled up again, but she quickly suppressed them. She couldn’t bear to soil the handkerchief her aunt had given her, so she sniffed deeply, swallowing her tears.

The mere thought of losing her aunt’s affection made Olivia Fairfax overwhelmingly anxious. Her earlier resolve to never see her aunt again had long since melted away.

“Olivia.”

Startled, Olivia Fairfax, who had been nervously watching her aunt, quickly nodded.

“Yes, Aunt.”

“You can’t change a name once it’s been decided. Your uncle registered it at the office yesterday. And, to be honest, I’ve always wanted to name my daughter Jane. Miss Hyde is the most courageous lady I’ve ever met. I admire her deeply. I doubt I’ll ever meet another woman as admirable as her.”

“Admire.”

Olivia Fairfax felt deflated. It was an emotion her aunt would never feel toward her. She knew herself well. She was pretty, had a fine figure, was talented, and had an excellent sense of style. She was confident that once she entered society, she could charm any man, even a prince.

But at the same time, she knew she was childish, vain, and lacked conviction. To a perfect lady like her aunt, she was merely a cute girl, a young niece full of flaws that needed correcting.

This realization was, in truth, the foundation of her love for Laura Pendleton. To someone as shallow as herself, her aunt was an admirable woman, a guiding light. Olivia Fairfax longed to have the same depth of character as her aunt—thoughtful, prudent, disciplined, rational, and kind, a near-perfect inner self.

“What kind of woman is this Miss Hyde to earn the admiration of someone like my aunt?”

Olivia Fairfax felt intense jealousy toward this lady named Jane Hyde, though she had never seen her face or knew what about her had so captivated Laura Pendleton.

While Olivia Fairfax wrestled with these emotions, Laura Pendleton calmly continued her prepared words.

“But Olivia, I love you dearly. In the last month of my pregnancy, you came to Whitefield almost every day to keep me company. No, even before that, you’ve loved me with all your heart. Your love is one of the reasons I feel I made the right choice marrying Ian Dalton.”

“Me?”

“Yes. If I hadn’t married your uncle, I wouldn’t have gained a niece like you, Olivia.”

Olivia Fairfax’s heart swelled with emotion. Laura Pendleton reached out and gently tidied her niece’s hair.

“I want you to grow up well. You’re already a kind and clever young lady. Soon, you’ll fall in love and get married. By then, my children will be boys and girls themselves. I hope they’ll look up to you, Olivia. I hope that in the not-too-distant future, you’ll become a dependable adult they can trust and follow.”

Laura Pendleton’s hand gently cupped Olivia Fairfax’s cheek.

“Can you promise to fulfill my wish?”

Olivia Fairfax hesitated. A dependable adult? If her aunt had asked her to become the queen of society or the most popular lady in London, she would have been brimming with confidence. But the expectation her aunt held now—she honestly wasn’t sure she could meet it.

Even so, Olivia Fairfax nodded. Not just because she wanted to hold on to her aunt’s affection.

She wanted it too. To become a more mature lady. To be someone others could rely on.

Just like her aunt Laura Pendleton.

Laura Pendleton smiled softly, an elegant and refined smile, the perfect smile of a true lady.

“Then, Olivia, will you grant me one more request?”

“What… what is it?”

Olivia Fairfax asked, tense with anticipation. The promise she had just made felt so weighty that the idea of another request filled her with apprehension.

“Be the godmother to Louis and Jane.”

Olivia Fairfax’s eyes widened as large as saucers.

“Me? How could I…?”

Laura Pendleton chuckled softly.

“You promised to become a dependable adult, didn’t you?”

“But a godmother to the twins? Surely among your friends, there are titled, wealthy, and famous ladies who would be more suitable.”

“I want you. I don’t think there’s anyone who could love our twins as much as you will, Olivia.”

Olivia Fairfax’s lips trembled. Becoming a godmother meant sharing responsibility for the children’s future alongside her aunt. It was a trust far greater than naming a child after her.

“She loves me. She believes in my future.”

Olivia Fairfax flung her arms around her aunt’s neck.

“Yes, Aunt! I’ll be a good godmother. I’ll become an adult the children can look up to!”

Sobbing, Olivia Fairfax cried out.

Laura Pendleton gently stroked her niece’s small back.

“Our Olivia will surely become just that. Yes, absolutely.”

Olivia Fairfax clung to her aunt and wept for a long time. Though it was a tearful moment, she had never felt so happy.

By the time for the formal meal arrived, the two held hands and descended to the lower floor. Laura Pendleton introduced Louis and Jane to her niece. Just as her uncle had said, they were angelic babies with black hair and gray eyes. Though Jane’s face was puffy from crying, it only made her more adorable.

Olivia Fairfax kissed each child’s cheek in turn. Alongside her affection for these lovable beings, she felt a heavy sense of responsibility. In the future, she would need to be a sturdy tree trunk for these two children to lean on. It was a promise to her aunt Laura Pendleton, one she absolutely had to keep.

That day, Olivia Fairfax took two steps closer to maturity. It was a kind of growth that neither a glamorous debut in society nor hundreds of books could achieve.

The day of Louis and Jane’s baptism arrived.

Whitefield Church, typically one of the more populous parishes in the area, was especially crowded that day. With Laura Pendleton’s friends and a few of Ian Dalton’s acquaintances who had received invitations, there were over thirty out-of-town guests alone.

The ground floor, which usually accommodated the regular parishioners with room to spare, was completely full. Eventually, the second-floor pews, usually kept locked, were opened. The out-of-town guests giggled, saying it felt like the terrace seats of an opera house. In truth, the second-floor seats offered a prime view of the church’s interior.

As the congregation and guests settled into their places, Pastor Star, dressed in a white robe, appeared. His entrance hushed the church.

The aura of his beautiful face combined with the white robe spread a sacred atmosphere throughout the church.

The service began. After five or six hymns, Pastor Star delivered a sermon. As his instructive commentary on the Sermon on the Mount from the Gospel of Matthew concluded, he turned his gaze toward the Dalton family pew.

The seat, usually occupied solely by the Dalton couple, was unusually crowded. The Fairfax family was in attendance. The head of the family, Robert Fairfax, along with George Fairfax, Olivia Fairfax, and Mrs. Fairfax, wrapped in a gray fox shawl, were present, as was Daniel Fairfax, who had skipped his vacation training to return home.

Among them sat the Dalton couple, each holding a child. Laura Dalton wore a calm brown dress, and Ian Dalton was dressed in a light gray suit.

Pastor Oliver Star smiled.

“Today, we welcome new members of our parish and the Anglican community. Come forward, please.”

Laura Pendleton and Ian Dalton walked to the altar. Behind them followed Olivia Fairfax, the godmother, adorned in a lace dress that trailed on the floor and sparkling with borrowed diamond jewelry from her mother, and William Fairfax, chosen as the godfather.

The assistant pastor brought the holy water vessel and the oil jar. Pastor Star, with a fond gaze, looked at the chubby-cheeked twins sleeping soundly in their parents’ arms and anointed their heads with holy water and oil.

“In the name of the Holy Spirit, I baptize you. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.”

The congregation echoed in unison, “Amen.”

The service concluded with hymns and prayers. Pastor Oliver Star prayed to heaven for the children’s healthy growth and beautiful future. It was a long and heartfelt prayer.

Thus, the service and baptism concluded. The people filling the church slowly exited. Most of them headed not to their homes but to Whitefield Hall to attend the garden party hosted by the Dalton couple.

Some went by carriage, some by horse, and others by mule-drawn cart, passing through the birch forest. It was a clear July midday, a rare sight in England.