Microscopes and Canvases - Chapter 6

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

Chapter 6
The next morning.
Before Patrick had even shaken off the previous night’s hangover, Mrs. Bennett swept into his room like a storm.
“Up with you, Patrick. We’re going out, so dress yourself properly.”
“Mother. I only arrived yesterday….”
A sharp rebuke flew at Patrick, who was groaning with his face buried in his pillow.
“Didn’t you yourself promise yesterday that you’d attend the tea party and the ball? You must keep your word like a gentleman.”
Under his mother’s insistence, Patrick finally dragged himself out of bed.
Mrs. Bennett practically yanked him by the collar into the carriage, and Patrick pressed his forehead against the window glass, fighting the nausea churning in his stomach. Whether his eyes were open or shut, the world wouldn’t stop spinning.
“I reek of alcohol.”
“My nose detects only pleasant scents. The servants pressed your clothes well, and you’re clean enough. Just keep whatever’s rising in your throat under control.”
Sigh….
How on earth was he supposed to manage a tea party in this state….
Patrick, half-unconscious until then, only managed to open his eyes as they passed through the gates of Norton Manor.
“Wait—isn’t this… Norton Manor?”
“It is.”
“If I recall correctly, you said everyone in this household was dreadfully vulgar….”
Mrs. Bennett shot a sharp look at her grumbling son.
“Who said anything about you marrying Lady Norton? This estate hosts the largest tea party of the season, so we’re attending. It means there will be many respectable young ladies present. You’ll have pleasant conversation, take walks together, and meet various eligible ladies.”
“What woman would want a man reeking of drink? I might actually damage the family’s reputation….”
“Patrick William Bennett. Be silent.”
Patrick clamped his mouth shut and sank deeper into the seat.
Indeed, upon arrival, the gathering at Norton Manor was every bit as grand as his mother had promised—hardly less splendid than court itself.
Noblewomen and well-dressed gentlemen were everywhere, gracefully tilting teacups and engaged in endless whispered conversation.
Round tables draped in pristine white cloth were scattered throughout the space, and three-tiered trays overflowed with freshly baked scones, clotted cream, cucumber sandwiches, and macarons in every shade imaginable.
“Patrick!”
Dominic, already present, nodded to him from across the room. The moment he did, every young lady in his vicinity fixed her gaze squarely on Patrick.
Mrs. Bennett tugged gently at her son’s collar and whispered with a knowing smile.
“A man reeking of drink, you said? Look—every single lady here has eyes only for you.”
“Tiresome.”
Patrick sighed quietly and took a seat among the gathering.
Every moment counted when there was so much to do. He had no time for leisure at a place like this. The Natural History Museum opening was approaching, and he needed to have all his materials properly organized….
“My goodness, you must be Baron Patrick.”
“You’re even more beautiful than they say.”
“Do you remember me? We met at a ball when we were children….”
The ladies edged closer, showing their interest. Though deeply uncomfortable, Patrick maintained his composure out of deference to his mother, offering a polite nod and brief replies to their questions.
“I hear you studied Biology!”
“So you research animals, then?”
“Have you ever done taxidermy? I’ve heard it involves touching dead animals!”
“Oh my!”
Yes, no, yes, yes….
I actually prefer plants….
Despite his obvious discomfort, the young ladies surrounding him pressed on relentlessly, punctuating his every brief answer with exaggerated laughter.
These affairs typically worked a certain way: mothers watching their daughters’ prospects rose and fell in their estimation by the minute. Mrs. Bennett’s lips curved upward as she observed her son’s popularity.
At least until Lady Norton, the tea party’s hostess, approached.
“Baron Patrick, I understand you have quite an expertise with plants? How fortunate. Would you mind examining our garden?”
Wielding her prerogative as hostess to smoothly dismiss the competition, Lady Norton beckoned her daughter forward with a subtle gesture and ventured delicately forward.
“My daughter has quite a passion for flowers, and it would be an honor if you might offer her some instruction.”
“Ah… yes.”
All of it felt like an exaggerated theatrical performance, and Patrick found his interest waning further. His nausea had subsided somewhat, but the headache pounding mercilessly at his temples was only intensifying.
“Good afternoon, Baron.”
Lady Norton appeared at his side with a bright smile, sticking close to him. Despite her gaunt frame and pointed chin, she was quite pretty, though her eyes lacked any real sparkle and carried a somewhat nervous quality.
“Will you come with me?”
Patrick found himself following Lady Norton and her mother into the garden.
Perhaps a respite in the verdant greenery might offer some solace in this personal hell, he thought.
* * *
The vast greenhouse at Norton Manor was filled with rare potted flowers and carefully manicured trees.
“After my husband passed, tending the garden became my sole source of joy. Last year, I even won an award at the Horticultural Society exhibition,” Lady Norton said.
She prattled on about where this rose had been laboriously procured from some distant land, how three gardeners had spent years training that tree, barely pausing for breath. Lady Norton moved alongside Patrick like his shadow, walking at his side.
“Yes, quite remarkable indeed.”
As Patrick repeated similar answers again and again, boredom crept over him. He’d found nothing of genuine appeal anywhere in Norton Manor’s gardens.
Branches pruned as if by ruler, flowers arranged in neat rows of color—like this Tea Party itself, the artificially contrived beauty grated against him unbearably.
“This way, please, Baron.”
At a gesture from the Baroness, the gardeners absorbed in their pruning quietly stepped aside.
“Exquisite, isn’t it? Whenever the plants dare to grow wild, we trim them back, and with a competent gardener overseeing everything, the plants seem to grow docile. It’s rather like training them, wouldn’t you say?”
Patrick gazed at the plants she pointed out with pride, feeling nothing. They were all mere artifacts, over-manicured by human hands. He would have preferred not to see them at all.
Yet Lady Norton, oblivious to the chill emanating from her companion, pressed forward with mounting enthusiasm, eager to display her carefully sculpted boxwood hedges and the pansies arranged in matching hues around the fountains.
Patrick lowered his eyes and slowed his pace.
With each step, his skull throbs. As though someone had wedged his head inside a massive bell and was striking it with a hammer.
And crushed beneath this merciless headache, Patrick had entirely forgotten about the lady walking at his side.
The presence of Lady Norton, daughter, who had been gazing at him with rapt fascination since they entered the garden.
* * *
Patrick William Bennett.
A strikingly handsome young man of marriageable age. The only son of the Bennett family, destined to inherit the clan’s vast fortune single-handedly!
Admittedly, he was perhaps a touch above what the Norton household could reasonably aspire to, but one never knows what might come to pass, does one?
As the saying goes, in matters of matrimonial alliance between houses, results matter far more than process. Even if one must set aside propriety for a moment—if only their daughter could be matched with the Bennett heir!
And yet, before Patrick Bennett’s return, the marriage market had been rather barren. Mothers with daughters of marriageable age descended like hawks upon any man of even modest means, squabbling over precedence.
Sir Ashworth, the renowned eldest son of a distinguished house, had long been the object of every eligible young lady’s ardent attention, and the remaining candidate, Baron Fitzroy, was simply too advanced in years. As for the other gentlemen, none met the exacting standards of Lady Norton’s considerable pride.
It was precisely when the Baroness had grown most impatient that word reached her ears: Patrick Bennett had returned to the Capital.
Thereupon Lady Norton lavished even greater care upon her already cherished gardens and arranged a grander Tea Party than ever before, extending an invitation to Mrs. Bennett.
‘I hear the Baron Bennett has considerable expertise in cultivating plants? Then do whatever it takes today—bring out potted flowers, anything—and thrust them upon him. We must capture his interest by any means, mustn’t we?’
‘I’m not certain he’ll even remember my name.’
Unlike her mother, brimming with hope, her daughter was thoroughly dispirited. Years ago, she had been soundly rebuffed by the haughty Patrick Bennett.
Though they were of similar age and had crossed paths several times within their narrow circle of High Society, Patrick had consistently failed to remember Lady Norton, daughter.
Whether she approached him to speak or not, he had always been absorbed in a book or distracted by catching insects in the grass—that cold, indifferent boy had left no impression upon her whatsoever.
“There’s no need for despair yet, daughter. If you make a proper good impression today, that will suffice.”
And so the Baroness, her eyes bright with ambition, had positioned Patrick Bennett and her daughter together, utterly certain that she would succeed in arranging this Marriage Proposal.

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