Microscopes and Canvases - Chapter 18

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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 18
Is this what it feels like when ten years of longing comes true in a single night?
Patrick needed time to return to reality. His flushed face burning, he stepped into the Garden to cool down, and walked slowly around its perimeter, breathing in the crisp night air.
The Fountain’s refreshing cascade mingled with the lingering strains of lively music drifting from the ballroom. As he turned to retrace his steps, he noticed something—or rather, someone.
A familiar blonde head, perched on the edge of the Fountain’s rim, gave him a small start.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone, should you?”
“What does it matter? I can brush off any tedious man who approaches, and honestly, it’s a relief.”
Beatrice sat with her chin propped on her hand, gazing toward the ballroom, her nose wrinkled in an expression of distaste. Patrick couldn’t help but smile softly at her mischievous demeanor.
“Do sit. Were you able to meet with your uncle?”
“Thanks to you, I had a truly wonderful time.”
As Patrick settled beside Beatrice, he spoke as though still half-dreaming, his voice soft and wondering.
“How fortunate for me.”
Beatrice’s eyes lingered on him for a moment. Even in the darkness, she could sense the warmth lingering on his cheeks. The man was breathing deeply, as if recovering from something profound—his hand pressed to his chest as he exhaled in a long, shuddering sigh.
“It still feels like a dream, to be honest.”
This was so different from the cool, distant bearing she’d glimpsed in the Separate Room that Beatrice found herself studying him more closely.
For a moment, she could almost see Edward’s reflection in his face.
‘Beatrice. You see, I’m rather fond of people who carry a burning passion in their hearts. When I see them, my own heart stirs in response. How should I put it? Happiness is contagious.’
Yes. He was absolutely right.
Beatrice couldn’t help but agree. The man beside her now, eyes luminous with joy and heart brimming over, was truly remarkable—not merely in his physical beauty, but in the profound emotion radiating from his very core.
And that passionate warmth was now flowing into her as well.
“You know,” she said quietly.
Beatrice spoke softly.
“When I saw all those people crowding around my uncle today, I felt spiteful. He was always mine—someone who understood my heart completely—and suddenly it felt as though everyone else was taking him away. Childish, isn’t it?”
Someone who understood my heart. Someone precious, all my own.
Patrick turned the words over in his mind. Yes, Mr. Greenleaf would have been exactly that—a steadfast adult who supported his niece’s dreams.
“Still, I suppose I could share him for a time. If you were to take a position at the Museum, that is.”
“…That is precisely what I hope for. I wish you the best of fortune.”
Patrick straightened his posture and looked away. There was something about her that had been distracting him since the dance.
Each time she smiled, those eyes would curve in the most disarming way, and he found himself unable to look elsewhere.
“I’ve been wondering…”
Suppressing the urge to examine more closely those luminous green eyes, Patrick changed the subject.
“Since Mr. Edward is unmarried, I’d assumed your family would be less insistent about your marriage prospects. But I gather that’s not the case?”
“Oh, don’t even mention it.”
Beatrice waved her hand dismissively, her expression one of deep exasperation.
“My brothers still haven’t married either, yet somehow everyone descends on me. They keep saying that for women, one’s value in the marriage market diminishes with age, and all such nonsense.”
Patrick nodded ruefully.
“So your plan to go to Berkyon…?”
“Fell through spectacularly.”
“Forgive me for smiling.”
Hearing such candid language from the lips of a well-bred lady, Patrick found himself laughing despite himself.
“And what of you? Are you delaying marriage simply to devote yourself to your research?”
Beatrice looked at him with renewed interest. Patrick, feeling slightly abashed, reached up to stroke his chin.
“Well, I’ve secured a reprieve for this year, at least… but fundamentally, my situation mirrors yours.”
“My, my.”
“So here I am on this night, sitting by the Fountain, conversing with a lady who holds marriage in as little regard as I do.”
“Ha ha.”
Beatrice burst into laughter, and soon Patrick found himself laughing alongside her.
“You know, Patrick.”
She gazed up at the star-studded sky as she spoke, her voice thoughtful.
“Once I marry, I’ll become someone’s wife. But I’m not ready for that yet—I want to keep living as Beatrice Somerset.”
“I understand perfectly.”
Patrick smiled as well. How wonderful it would be if others saw him the way she did.
“Mm.”
Beatrice tapped her Fan gently against the Fountain’s edge, then asked suddenly.
“If you do end up working at the Museum, perhaps I could visit sometime. Should we form some sort of group with your uncle?”
“That would be wonderful.”
At Patrick’s ready agreement, Beatrice’s voice grew even more animated.
“We could gather to have tea. As the Unmarried Alliance.”
“The Unmarried Alliance. I rather like it.”
“It’s for everyone who’s nagged about marriage despite having no inclination toward it—people with dreams still left to pursue. Those who don’t want to be pushed into marriage, but wish to decide for themselves through careful consideration. People like us.”
Beatrice chattered on with unrestrained delight, then suddenly spun toward Patrick.
“You will, won’t you?”
Patrick, who had been watching her with an affectionate gaze, found himself reaching out his hand without thinking, matching her cadence.
“If you speak of qualifications, I have them in abundance. Do accept.”
“Excellent. Contract sealed!”
Again, Beatrice grasped his hand without hesitation. The handshake lingered longer than usual, and Patrick felt a subtle warmth gathering in his palm.
He had never imagined spending such an intimate time with a woman he’d only just met tonight. In the span of a single evening, he had somehow gained a new friend—perhaps the most kindred spirit in the world.
“Well, I should return inside now. We can’t have people talking if we’re together too long.”
Beatrice released his hand with a satisfied exhale and jumped down from the fountain’s edge. Her dress swayed with fluid grace, rippling like water as she moved.
“Wait—Beatrice?”
Patrick turned toward the hall. The party was still in full swing, silhouettes of dancers still visible behind the drawn curtains.
“Shall we dance together?”
“…Dance? With me?”
Patrick’s proposal had caught her off guard, and Beatrice hesitated for a moment.
Patrick gestured to the small Dance Card dangling from her wrist.
“You, too, will find the journey home with your parents exhausting tonight. But if you can say you’ve danced at least once, it might ease the burden somewhat.”
What an extraordinary night this is. It’s as though I’m under a spell—my body moves of its own accord, and words I never meant to speak keep pouring out.
“I promise you. Even if the world split in two, I would never propose to Lady Somerset.”
Patrick stepped closer to Beatrice and extended his arm naturally.
“Tonight, we’re simply creating a brief refuge. Think of it that way.”
“Yes.”
Patrick watched as Beatrice’s eyes blazed with radiance.
It was the joy of having found someone who shared the same heart, a luminous gaze trembling with something almost like reverence.
“Patrick. Do you know something?”
Beatrice laughed openly, linking her arm through his.
“Of all the things a man has ever said to me, that’s the most thrilling.”

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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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