Microscopes and Canvases - Chapter 16

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 16
Patrick turned his back on the ballroom’s clamor and slipped away to the empty terrace.
He leaned against the stone railing, fished a cigarette from his jacket pocket, and lit it. As he drew in the first long drag, the tightness that had constricted his chest all evening finally began to ease.
Ordinarily he barely touched cigarettes, but at social gatherings like this one, Patrick made it a point to bring a pack.
For moments like this—to ease the suffocating sensation, or simply to fabricate an excuse to slip away from the crowd.
When Dominic had led him into the private room just moments earlier, Patrick had recognized Eugenia Norton at once and immediately wanted to leave.
The memory of their last tea time surfaced unbidden, and the mere sight of her face brought a wave of exhaustion.
And yet….
“Ah.”
Dominic pressed a champagne glass into his hand and murmured softly.
“That’s Beatrice Somerset. Looks like she ducked in here to escape the reporters.”
“Somerset?”
Patrick’s gaze fixed on the blonde young lady seated directly beside Eugenia Norton. Learning that she was none other than Mr. Greenleaf’s niece, his curiosity stirred.
“Extraordinarily beautiful, but her temperament leaves something to be desired. See how she can’t hide her expression? Not much of a lady about her.”
While Dominic rambled on with his unnecessary commentary, Patrick observed her with careful attention.
Well, to say her nature was wanting….
“…I’d probably make that same face if I were in Eugenia Norton’s company.”
Eugenia Norton’s ostentatious manner didn’t sit well with him. Beatrice Somerset, by contrast, looked genuinely uncomfortable.
“In any case, it’s been ages since I’ve seen her. I heard she graduated from art school and came back.”
Dominic chuckled and leaned in close.
“The two of you ought to get along. She’s famous for being unconventional.”
“Unconventional, is she.”
Patrick offered a wry smile and lifted his champagne glass.
…And then, not long after, the incident occurred.
Patrick brought the cigarette back to his lips. As he inhaled deeply, the glowing ember flared bright against the darkness for a moment before white smoke drifted away on the wind and dissipated into nothing.
Whether he had done right, he couldn’t say.
He couldn’t be certain his actions had been correct. By leaving his seat and departing in that manner, hadn’t he simply made things more difficult for her?
It hadn’t been for her sake—his words had simply tumbled out because he couldn’t endure the atmosphere. Had he possessed even a fraction less patience, he might have thrown a punch.
“Sigh.”
Patrick extinguished the barely smoked cigarette with a firm press and exhaled a low, weary breath.
It was tiresome. Contemptible people.
Yet on the other hand, there was a curious comfort in knowing that he wasn’t the only one who drifted like an outsider in this hollow, superficial society.
Was that why?
When his mother heard of this tomorrow, he would likely endure quite the lecture, but he found he harbored no regret.
Yes, it would work out somehow.
His heated mind had cooled considerably, and Patrick straightened his clothes before stepping back inside. Dominic would be waiting in the ballroom, and it was time to check whether the crowd around the director had thinned.
He had just entered the corridor and turned the corner when it happened.
“Oh,”
He nearly collided with someone coming from the opposite direction. The person seemed to recognize him as well, coming to an abrupt halt.
A blue dress and an ostrich feather fan. Large green eyes and blonde hair that gleamed softly even in the dimness….
“Oh, my lord? Good evening?”
When Beatrice looked up at him with a blink, Patrick found himself inadvertently holding his breath.
The eyes gazing up at him were a deep, vivid green. That color—like damp moss—was what Patrick Bennett loved most in the world.
“Patrick Bennett. I must apologize for my conduct just now.”
Heat crept up the back of his neck, and Patrick stumbled through his greeting.
“Please don’t say such a thing. I’m the one who should be grateful.”
She smiled softly, veiling her lips with the tip of her fan. His gaze lingered briefly on the graceful crescent curve of her eye corners.
“It was nothing extraordinary. I simply… empathized with your position.”
“It was a great comfort to me. Thank you.”
Unlike Beatrice, who answered without hesitation, Patrick found his words catching awkwardly in his throat.
This was strange. The ballroom’s noise had receded into distant unreality, and he could almost feel the yellow gaslight on the walls settling gently into his awareness.
And the breath itself—the silence in the narrow corridor had become so profound that he could hear their breathing, the two of them standing face to face.
“Well, then,”
Beatrice broke the silence first, and Patrick awoke from his peculiar spell, gathering his senses.
“I hope you have a pleasant evening, my lord. I do hope we shall meet again.”
She offered her farewell with a smile and turned to pass him.
It was at that moment Patrick’s gaze suddenly shifted toward the ballroom. She was Beatrice—Lady Somerset—and Edward’s niece as well. If that were so….
“Lady Somerset, I… might I impose upon you with a request?”
“Yes?”
The words had tumbled from his lips unbidden, stopping her in her tracks. Beatrice turned slowly back to face him directly.
“What’s the matter?”
“Ah, well.”
His mind went scrambled. Patrick steadied his thoughts quickly, clearing his throat.
“I actually….”
“Please, go on.”
It was simply because he wanted it so desperately.
He hadn’t meant to resort to tricks. What he’d done in the Private Room moments ago had nothing to do with the fact that Beatrice was Greenleaf’s niece, nor was he drawn by the striking beauty of her features.
It was only the hope of meeting Greenleaf, even just once….
Yes, he would ask.
Patrick summoned his courage, steeling himself against the embarrassment.
“If I may be so bold, would you introduce me to Edward Rockwell?”
“My uncle?”
Her eyes held a mixture of caution and curiosity. Patrick drew a deep breath and spoke with care.
“I’m actually conducting research of this sort.”
Patrick withdrew the Research Paper he’d been carrying at his side and offered it forward. Rather than expecting her to read it on the spot, he simply felt the need to prove he wasn’t up to any tricks.
“What is this?”
Beatrice examined the densely packed charts and forms with curious eyes. Her fingertips, gloved in white lace, traced lightly across the neat leather cover, and the first page of his research proposal turned smoothly.
He had handed it over almost as a business card, something light and casual, but Beatrice surprised him by opening the proposal seriously and beginning to read through it in earnest.
What on earth was happening?
His heart hammered away of its own accord. Patrick stared intently at her face as she reviewed the documents, struggling to contain his excitement.
No matter how he looked at it, he saw neither boredom nor mockery—only a deep, genuine interest.
“Oh my.”
Soon a soft exclamation escaped Beatrice’s lips. Did she understand the content? Patrick watched her reaction carefully, skeptical yet hopeful.
“Hmm.”
The paper kept slipping under her white gloves that extended to her elbows, so Patrick quickly reached out to take back the proposal. But she paid no mind, turning page after page, absorbed in his work—his research plan filled with Latin nomenclature, cellular cross-sections, and densely packed charts.
“So you’ve discovered a novel plant species, then?”
“Yes… that’s correct.”
“How remarkable. My uncle will certainly be delighted.”
When she finally smiled warmly and returned the proposal to him, Patrick felt the wind knocked out of him as he asked in a daze.
“Do you… have some expertise in plants yourself?”
“Of course! I love them! Come with me. I was actually on my way to see my uncle as well. Let me introduce you right now.”
Beatrice answered without hesitation and gave him a warm, knowing glance, and Patrick’s chest swelled so suddenly that he found himself momentarily at a loss for words.
Every time he’d presented this research proposal before, the only responses he’d received were puzzled looks asking “Why on earth this subject?” brief ridicule, or thinly veiled contempt suggesting this hardly qualified as research at all.
Still in a daze, Patrick followed close behind Beatrice as she led the way, repeating his thanks over and over.
“Thank you so much. Truly, from the bottom of my heart.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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