Microscopes and Canvases - Chapter 43

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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 43
The chatter that had filled the carriage all the way until dawn fell silent the moment they sat facing each other in the narrow space, and an awkwardness settled in.
The melody of the Waltz still hummed in her ears, yet the air inside the carriage was utterly still—nothing like the Ball Hall.
Between their knees, barely a hand’s breadth of distance, it felt far closer than that vast ballroom had been. A slight stretch of her feet would have bridged it entirely.
The sound of wheels on gravel, the coachman’s soft cough, the occasional glow of a streetlamp brushing past the window—every sound and current of air seemed magnified. Perhaps it was because Patrick’s long legs kept brushing against the hem of her dress.
It was around then that Patrick, who had been resting his chin against the window frame, began to study Beatrice intently—not the view outside, but fixing his gaze entirely on Beatrice Somerset. She found herself shrinking back without meaning to.
Each time a streetlamp passed, his blue eyes appeared and disappeared in the darkness. Silent, merely staring. Patrick seemed absorbed in some thought.
“Patrick. Do I have something on my face?”
Beatrice, unable to bear his unbroken stare, asked with a hint of complaint. Her heart was hammering, and her voice had grown quieter without her realizing it.
“Ah.”
He gave an unexplained laugh. Yet his eyes, fixed on her, showed no sign of wavering.
“Just thinking that my Unmarried Alliance friend is very lovely.”
Patrick answered with remarkable composure and turned his gaze back to the window as though nothing had happened.
What…what was that?
Beatrice, flustered, could only fidget with the fabric of her skirt. Her body felt creaky, as though her limbs were operating independently of one another.
Heat rushed to her cheeks. Thank goodness the carriage was dark—if it had been any brighter, her burning face would have been completely exposed.
Did that side of him exist?
He had always seemed utterly indifferent to women. How could he say such a thing so casually? Could he actually be a rake?
No, that couldn’t be.
He was not the sort to toy with another’s heart. And that was precisely the problem. After hearing words she couldn’t tell were genuine or jest, her heart had begun moving of its own accord.
Now that Patrick Bennett had stirred up her mind, she didn’t know where to put her hands, where to look, how to breathe—nothing made sense. The carriage was simply too narrow, too dark, and terribly, terribly silent. Her heartbeat was louder than the wheels. Beatrice clenched her gloved hands so tightly that her palms grew damp beneath the thin silk.
In that instant, she was seized by worry: what if Patrick noticed the state she was in?
Patrick Bennett could remain at ease with her only because he knew that Beatrice Somerset was ‘a comfortable companion he would never marry.’ That was the foundation of their relationship.
But if I now, suddenly, act strangely…
It was painfully obvious that the already-guarded Patrick Bennett would immediately draw a line and become wary of her.
She had finally found the one person in her entire life with whom she could bare her heart. The thought that she might lose her most dependable friend filled her with sudden dread.
Steady yourself. This feeling is only temporary. It’s just confusion because we’re man and woman. If you pass through this stage, you can become his true friend….
As Beatrice repeated this to herself again and again, her eyes met Patrick’s once more. She expelled this sticky, peculiar atmosphere with a brightness that made Patrick start.
“Today, thanks to you, I was able to avoid those bothersome suitors! Long live the Alliance, as they say. Let’s continue to use each other comfortably.”
“…I was grateful too, Beatrice.”
A brief silence fell, but he soon answered with a faint smile. In that moment of relief at his seemingly normal demeanor, Patrick added slowly, his eyes still on the window.
“Marriage really is… tiresome, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Tiresome.”
She replied without hesitation, mechanically, because she believed it necessary. Yet her own voice sounded oddly unfamiliar to her ears, slightly hollow.
Patrick said nothing for a time. His profile, reflected in the carriage window, was half-erased by shadow—unreadable.
Fatigue settling over her, Beatrice too turned her gaze outside. The cool night air seeping through the window frame gradually cooled the pleasant flush lingering on her cheeks.
‘Marriage really is tiresome, isn’t it?’
As she quietly turned his words over in her mind, the landscape beyond the window passed by with indifference—the street asleep like death, the stone shops with their doors sealed shut, the river mist rising along the embankment and wrapping the lane in hazy white.
Of course this man had no interest in marriage whatsoever. How reassuring that certainty was. Beatrice reassured herself again and again, keeping her gaze fixed on the yellow gaslight flowing past the window.
“Beatrice.”
As familiar streets came into view and they drew near the Somerset Estate, Patrick spoke again.
“Was there any other reason you wanted to go to Belkyon? Besides wanting to study painting?”
The carriage passed slowly through the black iron gates and entered the estate’s vast gardens. The crunch of wheels on gravel filled the long silence, and even as they drew near the moment of departure, Beatrice could not bring herself to answer.
Within her gloves, her fingers curled and uncurled slowly. The scales in her heart tipped and righted themselves as she weighed how much she could safely tell.
“I’m not sure….”
Beatrice opened her mouth at last, gazing at the increasingly near Somerset Estate. Her parents’ bedroom lights were still on—they had stayed awake waiting for their daughter’s late return.
“I wanted to go somewhere no one knew me. I wanted to begin my life completely anew. There was something that happened long ago… something that made me decide that.”
The carriage’s speed gradually decreased. Whoa, whoa. As the coachman drew tight the reins, the slowly turning wooden wheels finally came to rest on solid ground.
“…That story is for another time. I still can’t speak of it easily.”
As Beatrice grew quiet, Patrick did not press further. He alighted from the carriage first and offered his hand so she could step down safely, then escorted her to the entrance.
The predawn air was filled with the cry of night insects and the fresh scent of grass. The footsteps of the two figures walking quietly along the gravel path toward the entrance were the only sound to break the night.
At the entrance, they paused facing each other.
Beatrice lowered her gaze. Perhaps, she thought, if they were formally betrothed, they might exchange a light kiss at the door. No one had taught her, but some instinctive knowing reached her through her skin.
Patrick, fortunately, seemed entirely at ease. With a faint smile, he bade his farewell and withdrew with perfect propriety.
“It was a pleasure today, Beatrice. I’ll see you when I come to the office tomorrow.”
“Likewise.”
It was a clean parting.
Like any nobleman, Patrick did not press an unnecessary kiss to her gloved hand to secure future meetings, nor did he utter a single superfluous word laden with sentiment.
After watching Beatrice disappear inside the entrance, he turned quietly and made his way back to the carriage that awaited him.

Though the alcohol had warmed his veins, his gait remained as measured and steady as ever—each step perfectly calibrated, betraying nothing of the turbulent emotions churning beneath his surface.
Patrick climbed into the carriage with practiced ease, then sat rigidly, his gaze fixed out the window until the Somerset Estate disappeared from view entirely.
Only when the carriage had finally crossed beyond the estate’s boundaries did he exhale slowly, releasing the breath he’d been holding back in the darkness.

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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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