2. Olivia Jennings’ Standards

“So—you don’t really know what happened that day?”

The small commotion that occurred at Viscount Wickham’s party didn’t remain confined to the party hall. The fact that Ronald Collins had been beaten by someone and left spread secretly, reaching even those who hadn’t been invited to the party that day.

Opinions were divided on whether it was his lip or nose that was split, but in every embellished version, the story ended with Ronald Collins leaving the mansion with a resentful face, and Viscount and Viscountess Wickham showing expressions closer to satisfaction than concern about him by the end of the party.

Richard Dalton didn’t hide that he was the instigator of that commotion. However, he didn’t leak to anyone the fact that Olivia Jennings was at the root of the disturbance. Richard simply offered a gentlemanly explanation that Ronald Collins seemed quite drunk, along with an apology for disrupting the party’s mood.

Of course, he didn’t forget to promise that he would soon invite them to a party he would host as an apology for ruining Viscount and Viscountess Wickham’s wonderful party. It was a passage that made the satisfaction discovered on the Wickham couple’s faces that day understandable.

Ronald Collins failed to gain sympathy or understanding from others due to his usual conduct, so he couldn’t win the compassion or understanding of those around him.

Even those who expressed regret in a dignified and refined manner were mostly pleased that what should have come had finally arrived, and seeing that even the Duchess of Cavendish, who rarely commented on others’ affairs, showed considerable interest in the incident, it was certain that the event at the party that day was quite an interesting topic of conversation for everyone.

Olivia Jennings, who had no particular connection with the duchess, could be invited to this refined tea party because she was a witness to that night.

More precisely, it was because someone who had discovered that Olivia was close to Richard Dalton, who had thrown the punch at Ronald Collins, had leaked this fact to the duchess, though it was impossible to know who the informant was.

Olivia, unable to know exactly what the duchess knew and to what extent, was struggling to endure the subtle gazes of the ladies pouring toward her while swallowing jam-spread scones with tea.

“I merely happened to discover a gentleman fleeing the scene……”

She didn’t want to dig up what Richard Dalton had tried to cover. As he had said, these were matters that would only harm her own reputation.

If that foolish Ronald Collins were to go around blabbing about it everywhere, she couldn’t prevent that, but it was questionable whether it was something he could be proud of. If he had any brains, he wouldn’t do such a thing, but… he was someone she couldn’t feel at ease about.

“I heard you were with Count Dalton when returning to the dance hall……”

I wish you’d clarify whether you heard it or saw it. Olivia raised the corners of her mouth as she set her teacup down on the saucer. It felt as if she might have convulsions from her lips to her eyes.

“Lord Dalton is a gentleman. He couldn’t have sent me back alone. He merely accompanied me briefly.”

At her retreating manner of speech, as if she knew nothing more, the ladies also leaned back and watched for their moment. In any case, their eyes showed they had no intention of ending their inquiry so meekly.

Sally, who sat beside Olivia, merely watched silently as her sister struggled among the ladies whose skill in handling people was extraordinary. In fact, she was also curious about this matter and was hoping that the ladies present today would demonstrate their abilities without reservation.

“Gentleman, indeed.”

These were the first words from a lady who had remained upright and alone without exchanging a word with anyone until now. Everyone’s heads turned not so much because these words denied that Richard Dalton was a gentleman, but because they came from Richard Dalton’s aunt.

While no one at the table could easily add to her words, Marchioness Avery, who broke the silence with a smile, placed her teacup on the table and looked intently at Olivia.

“You seem quite ignorant of rumors, Miss Jennings.”

Rumors? Olivia, along with everyone else present, looked at the marchioness with puzzled faces.

“There’s been quite a lot of talk until recently. That ‘Dickson’ in 「The Last Lover」 is actually ‘Dalton.'”

Olivia’s hands holding the teacup saucer and teacup collided. The marchioness’s sharp gaze lingered around Olivia’s hands as they returned these items to the table, as if scanning them, before turning away.

Except for that moment, fortunately, no one seemed to notice that brief disturbance. Not only Olivia but everyone present was watching the marchioness’s expression with somewhat surprised eyes.

Among the ladies enjoying an elegant teatime, no one had failed to read that novel. However, none of the people present had ever connected Richard Dalton with the character in the novel. At least, not in front of Marchioness Avery.

Olivia had never imagined that her own writing would return to her in this way. Though she had pictured standing before an angry Richard Dalton, she had never dared to think that a day would come when she would have to express her opinion about it in front of his aunt—that is, in front of Marchioness Avery’s all-seeing eyes.

According to Richard Dalton’s explanation last time, the marchioness had found that story quite amusing, but now she wondered what kind of ‘amusement’ the marchioness had felt. Whether it was really ‘amusement’ at all.

“That’s…… just a story.”

One she had written with her own hands.

A strange tension circulated along her cool spine. Sally, sitting beside her, was also carefully observing the unfolding situation more as a spectator than as a sister. No one touched the biscuits they had been praising anymore. Olivia keenly felt that she had no one to take her side at this moment.

“To have used such a similar face and name without any basis. There must be something that only a woman named Vivian Bennett knows.”

Olivia, who confirmed with her own eyes why Richard Dalton had said his fault was very great in appearing at social events he didn’t want to attend, felt sorry for him for the first time.

Would it be possible to keep secrets in front of such an experienced marchioness? And if so, how long could that last? Naturally, going against the marchioness’s will wouldn’t be easy either.

“But doesn’t the marchioness know well about his character? That such things are merely baseless rumors—”

“Miss.”

The marchioness, wearing a gentle smile, met Olivia’s eyes. For some reason, Olivia, who had been listing excuses for him, swallowed and waited for the marchioness’s next words.

“What I see is only Richard when he’s in front of me. As for what Richard is like as a man, I know less than you, who were only briefly with him that day.”

It was a gentle but powerful tone. Olivia, who couldn’t find more words to say, quietly closed her mouth.

“So—at least the Richard that you ‘briefly’ met seemed more like a gentleman than a scoundrel?”

Those eyes that forced one to speak only the truth. Those eyes tightened around Olivia like a snare.

“……Yes, I don’t think you need to worry too much.”

“Oh my. Did I seem to be worrying?”

“Pardon?”

“That fellow was always a bit rotten to begin with. Well, people born with that family’s blood are all a little like that. Still, it’s fortunate that you found that rotten fellow to your liking.”

Strictly speaking, she had never said she found him to her liking, but she couldn’t bring herself to contradict.

So Richard Dalton had been dealing with someone like this all along. Olivia couldn’t help but respect his brilliant eloquence and his attitude of never being intimidated. Those traces that were surely the result of training. There had been such a background to why she could hardly match him. It felt like her understanding of the character was deepening.

“Setting aside the rotten fellow, let’s talk more about you, Miss.”

Although the Duchess of Cavendish had clearly hosted today’s gathering, no one questioned that natural change of topic. Considering the subject and content they had been discussing until just before, and the marchioness’s relationship with him, no one could easily do so.

Thanks to probably the only person who could call Richard Dalton a rotten fellow, it seemed obvious that it would be difficult to utter ominous words about him in the future. Additionally, the fact that the end of this teatime, which was like sitting on a bed of thorns, wouldn’t come for a while.

***

Richard Dalton wasn’t a particularly devout believer. Given his usual conduct, he seemed closer to an atheist, but he attended church regularly only when he couldn’t escape Marchioness’s stern surveillance. Just like these days.

Recently, there was even added subtle pressure to show sincerity to the church for Iris’s wedding next summer, so there weren’t many places to hide.

Richard, who had inevitably become a faithful believer attending worship, entered the church late this Sunday as well, and after spotting the back of the marchioness sitting in her seat with her usual upright posture, he stopped in his tracks.

He, who withdrew his approaching steps and hurriedly took a seat in the back row, began observing the unfamiliar ladies creating a harmonious atmosphere sitting beside his aunt. Though he couldn’t see their faces, he seemed to know who the owner of the brown curls falling here and there was.

Why are those two……