“Well then.”

Her uncle raised the corner of his mouth and spoke confidently.

“Anyone who visits Whitefield more than once can’t help but fall in love with this land. It’s the most beautiful place in the world. And if you come to love this land, naturally, you’ll come to love its master, me, as well.”

Olivia looked at her uncle with clear suspicion.

“I’ve visited Whitefield often, but I don’t love you.”

“Then who was it that proposed to me when they were seven years old?”

Olivia’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Ian chuckled softly.

“Don’t be nervous, Olivia. All you need to do is bring your teacher to Whitefield often. The more time she spends here, the more her heart will open without her realizing it. With you around, her guard will naturally lower. After a month or two like that, there might come a day when she stays overnight due to the weather, or perhaps she’ll act as hostess for a dinner party at my request, or even nurse me when I catch the flu.”

Olivia tilted her head.

“Dinner parties aside, haven’t you always boasted that you never get sick, not even a mild cold, thanks to your constitution? How am I supposed to nurse you?”

“I’ll pretend to be sick.”

Olivia thought for a moment, then clapped her hands as if she understood.

“Uncle, you’re a genius.”

Olivia looked at her uncle with a gaze mixed with awe.

“It’s a perfect plan. Someone as kind as Teacher would feel protective seeing you suffer. She’ll sympathize deeply, realizing how lonely you are. That sympathy could easily turn into love. By the time you’re ‘recovered,’ she won’t want to leave you. And at just the right moment, if you say, ‘During your care, love found its way into my heart. Please stay by my side,’ and propose, she’ll surely accept.”

“You got it exactly right.”

Ian smiled at his clever niece.

“This winter, I plan to be sick for over ten days. Too weak to move, lingering near death, but not so much as to overly burden my caregiver. When I’m nearly recovered, I’ll take your teacher’s hand and stand by the bedroom window. The snow-covered Whitefield scenery will be quite romantic. I’ll kneel before her and ask her to be my wife. She won’t be able to refuse. I’ll be haggard from skipping meals, and I plan to shed a few tears.”

Impressed, Olivia silently gave a thumbs-up.

Laura’s performance ended. Olivia and Ian clapped enthusiastically for her. Unaware of the conversation between them, Laura happily expressed her gratitude. She soon led Olivia to the piano. The two sat side by side and played a duet by Johann Strauss.

The grand golden grandfather clock at the end of Whitefield Hall’s corridor struck five. Laura finished playing and closed the piano lid.

“It’s time to go.”

Olivia, who had been singing along to the accompaniment, reluctantly sat closer to her teacher.

“Teacher, can’t you play one more piece before you go?”

“I promised your mother I’d be back before dinner.”

“It’s only an hour to get there. Dinner’s at six-thirty, so you have thirty minutes to spare.”

Laura gently smoothed Olivia’s blonde hair.

“It’s true it takes an hour from Whitefield to Dunville Park. But saying goodbye to your uncle, arriving home, greeting your mother, changing clothes, and washing up will take at least thirty minutes, Miss Fairfax.”

She was right. Olivia reluctantly got up from the piano bench.

Mr. Dalton came out to see the ladies off. He smiled kindly at Miss Pendleton, seated by the carriage window.

“Miss Pendleton, thank you for visiting. It’s been quite lonely here, but thanks to you, it was a delightful day.”

“I’m the one who should thank you for your generous hospitality. Whitefield was truly impressive. I’m sure I’ll dream of strolling through its white birch forest tonight.”

“Praise from you, Miss Pendleton, is always precious. Though, with your warm nature, you rarely fail to praise anything.”

Laura shook her head earnestly.

“You may doubt other things, but don’t doubt my praise for Whitefield. I was truly moved by it.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’d heard so much praise and seen it in paintings, so I worried the real thing might disappoint. But I was wrong. Mr. Dalton, I was captivated the moment I arrived. And…”

Laura’s breathing grew slightly uneven.

“I felt this land is as beautiful and pure as its master.”

Laura said this and looked embarrassed, feeling she’d made a mistake.

He was equally flustered. Her praise was directed at both Whitefield and himself. Pure and beautiful. Whitefield, and him.

His heart pounded.

Mr. Dalton extended his hand to her. Laura cautiously placed her hand on his. He bowed and gently kissed her small hand.

After an unusually long moment for a formal kiss, he lifted his lips. He gazed intently at Miss Pendleton.

“In my dreams tonight, you’ll appear adorned in ruby and silk. Please return safely.”

Laura’s face flushed faintly. She smiled awkwardly and withdrew her hand.

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

The carriage departed.

The one leaving and the one staying behind had different roles, but their thoughts were the same.

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

Less than a week after visiting Whitefield, Laura found herself in a carriage heading back with Olivia, thanks to an invitation from Mrs. Starr, the pastor’s wife.

In a cheerful, almost musical tone, Mrs. Starr had invited her to visit their humble parsonage for tea. Laura, dressed in lace and silk alongside Olga, went to the Whitefield church parsonage for tea.

The parsonage was bustling with ladies, all girls aged twelve to eighteen. They were choir members, daughters of farmers or prominent shopkeepers.

Laura had prepared herself, expecting her acquaintance with Mr. Dalton to be mentioned at least once during tea. But she was mistaken. Even before she stepped into the parsonage, they had heard from Mrs. Starr that Laura was a friend of the Whitefield estate’s master.

Laura spent an uncomfortable afternoon caught between Mrs. Starr eagerly offering tea and cake, innocent choir girls gazing at her with starry eyes, too shy to speak, and Olivia boasting excessively about her teacher’s language and piano skills.

Mrs. Starr’s invitations continued. Laura wasn’t entirely keen on attending, but out of courtesy to Mrs. Starr and consideration for her friendship with Mr. Dalton, she accepted.

At the parsonage, Laura met farmers’ wives with rough hands and warm eyes, diligent merchants’ wives from the ladies’ group, and children aged nine to eleven who gathered weekly to study the Bible. They all knew Laura was Mr. Dalton’s friend, which alone made her a figure of respect.

Hospitality and smiles abounded. Friendly middle-aged women asked about her well-being, ensuring her comfort, while children sat close, asking about London. When Laura left, her arms were full of simple gifts they gave her.

Laura soon realized they were all kind and warm people. She also noticed that everyone, from children to gray-haired locals, respected Mr. Dalton. A diligent, fair, and courteous landlord—that was his reputation.

Laura gradually lost her reluctance to visit the parsonage. She grew fond of Whitefield’s residents, became accustomed to Mrs. Starr’s cheerfulness, and felt grateful rather than awkward for the respect she received thanks to Mr. Dalton.

Laura strove to act properly to avoid tarnishing Mr. Dalton’s reputation. She minded her manners and responded to kindness with courtesy and humility.

Her demeanor was impeccable. The expectations that Whitefield’s residents, who loved Mr. Dalton, had of his friend were always met with admiration and approval.

After several visits to the parsonage, the next stop was naturally Whitefield Hall, just a fifteen-minute carriage ride away, making it a reasonable detour with Olivia.

Passing through the enchanting birch forest to reach Whitefield, Laura always met Mr. Dalton. Hearing his positive reputation at the parsonage made her admire the Mr. Dalton standing before her. She already knew he was a responsible landlord, but experiencing it firsthand in his domain made him seem incomparably admirable.

He always treated Olivia and Laura generously, granting them full access to the library, showing them beautiful flowers in the greenhouse, or, on pleasant days, guiding them through the maze garden and manicured trees. Sometimes, he’d pick ripe apples from his hobby orchard, filling the ladies’ skirts with them.

Laura cherished every moment at Whitefield. The manor’s dignified beauty stirred her sensibilities, and the vast library was paradise for a book lover like her. The servants were always kind, and the meals and desserts were exquisite.

But the main reason she loved Whitefield Hall was that she could meet Mr. Dalton there. Sitting and talking with him was her happiest and most fulfilling time.