Salvation Equation
***
— I once thought of his life as a slow suicide. A life of separating himself from the world, abandoning others, and waiting for death comfortably in the fort. What joy is there in such a life? It was very unfortunate.
* * *
Earlier.
“Look at that woman.”
George puffed on his cigar and laughed. Ian shrugged.
“Too many women, I don’t know who you are talking about.”
It was a boring party for “prestigious” gentlemen to begin with. It was about a gathering where social newcomers could mingle with each other.
However, Ian had an obligation to protect his sister from those of lesser quality. Tonight was the time to show some family love.
There was a woman in the direction of George Colhaz’s wink. A woman leaning diagonally against a pillar with a bored expression on her face. She was sipping champagne with her blonde hair neatly raised up.
She had a very young face but a pessimistic look in her eyes as if she had realized everything in the world.
At the sight of her, Ian rubbed his cigarette out on the tray.
George began to mumble.
“I’ve been counting down the number of times that young lady has turned down the dance request.”
“No, it seems you have nothing better to do.”
William, next to him, laughed with astonishment.
“A total of six times. More than six times she refused to dance.”
“She’s just made her debut, so she’s not desperate.”
“She may already have a partner.” William casually spoke. Ian said nothing. It was only then that he remembered the woman.
The first boring encounter. The Baron of the old country house and his daughter Madeline Loenfield. It was the first impression of a typical anachronistic rural feudal aristocratic family.
Baron Loenfield was unsightly, and not an interesting man. As for his daughter…
There were obvious signs that she was blatantly avoiding Ian. It didn’t matter either way on his part. He didn’t like the shy type either.
But, why does Madeline Loenfield in a light blue dress look different to him now? She stepped back from the banquet and acted like she was watching a movie. That contemplative gaze was interesting.
“I think I’m going to talk to her.”
George murmured.
“Suddenly? That’s not very polite.”
William stopped George quickly.
“I don’t think there is such rudeness these days. This isn’t the Victorian era. Take a good look, and wait for me and learn.”
It was the moment when George was about to get up from his seat. Ian walked out before him.
“Oh. Look at this. You…”
Ian heard George’s exasperated voice from behind him. Ian Nottingham made the first move without even knowing it. It was inevitable, as he always had to get what he wanted first.
* * *
They danced. The woman’s slender body spun around in his arms.
Her face glowed colorfully under the chandelier light.
It was solemn or startlingly immature. He liked the woman who alternated between diverse faces.
The woman who mumbled things that made no sense, the woman who looked at him like she was sad, she was quite an interesting partner.
Interesting and funny was important to him. For him, many things were boring, so this little curiosity was precious.
He was young and had never experienced a serious failure in his life. Everything was on the road to success. And that too at a very rapid rate.
All things in the world were in his hands, so much so that the unpredictable – but always within controllable limits – danger was worth it. Like, for example, dancing with a woman who didn’t like him at all.
Ian danced the waltz with Madeline Loenfield several times. He could feel the eyes of the entire sitting room piercing them. Annoying, but bearable.
The woman’s hands trembled terribly throughout the dance. Her gaze blurred as she looked at him but not at him.
He gently held the woman’s hand.
Why does she tremble? It’s all right. Whatever the reason.
The fact that he was holding her hand now was what was important.
* * *
“You finally danced.”
“Yes.…”
“One after another.”
The Marchioness opened her eyes and pursued Madeline.
“Ah…yes…I’m sorry I have the amazing Master Nottingham all to myself.”
The Marchioness was always angry at Madeline for why she wore tacky clothes, why she was quiet, and was about to be scolded just by breathing.
”But…”
In the carriage, the Marchioness took a quick look at Madeline. Her expression was a half mixture of calmness and satisfaction.
“Madeline Loenfield.”
“Yes.”
“……The Nottingham family is magnificent, honorable, respectable, and wealthy.”
It was almost like “the earth is round.”
The wealth of the Nottingham family only grew stronger as time went on. In fact, it was the same then. There were other people in line wanting to marry them besides Madeline.
It was like, “I don’t care if he’s a man who can’t move himself properly.” Many of the families wanted to marry him for their daughters.
There must have been several reasons why Madeline was chosen from among many reserve brides. No family background, age, and no backbones. Etc. etc. It didn’t really matter now.
“How about….”
The Marchioness lightly pushed Madeline’s shoulder.
“What?”
“Go for it…”
The Marchioness’ words caused Madeline to look at her hurriedly. The woman fanned her hands and began to look away.
‘Ugh. It’s really ridiculous.’
“…… as I told you. We only danced a few dances.”
Madeline felt tired, thinking how much fuss her father would make if he knew this story.
She was sincerely beyond tired. Why was it so drastic just because she had danced with a man once? Ian Nottingham danced with other women besides Madeline. Nevertheless, people seemed to see only what they wanted to see.
‘From now on I must keep as much distance as possible. Somehow keep the lines of movement from overlapping.’ Madeline swore again.
* * *
How long can one’s commitment last? Madeline sighed, for the society of London was too small to keep its vows. The Nottinghams were too powerful to ignore, and it was unavoidable that she would meet the man every time she appeared in a powerful position.
Moreover, with the exception of Ian Nottingham, it was the society itself that wore her down.
There, gentlemen and ladies were like peacocks boasting their feathers to each other. They competed with each other as if to show off how much they could use and how much more exalted they were. The emerging class was the emerging class, and the declining families played their roles in their own way….
Madeline smiled mechanically as she took on the role of the daughter of a declining family. She laughed so much that her mouth twitched. The dinner party was over and everyone was gathering for after-dinner drinks.
The room was bright at night when the lights came on. People’s white teeth glistened under them.
“Art is corrupt. There is nothing left but nudity.”
The man sitting in front of her had a vein popped up on his neck.
The man named George Colhaz was a promising lawyer with brown hair. He kept his appearance, but he talked too much.
“And it’s terribly ugly. Not all women in France look like that.”
Picasso, Matisse. Madeline also knew the people George Colhaz was talking about. After the war they became very famous. Even Madeline, who was ignorant of the world, knew the price of their paintings had gone through the roof.
She thought that if she bought one of their paintings now, it would be a great investment. But she could not afford to worry about such things right now. It was hard to concentrate on George’s words because she kept glancing across the table.
There was Ian Nottingham. The man did not speak to her today. Instead, he was talking to the woman sitting next to him.
Isabel Nottingham. Ian Nottingham’s sister, ill-fated and unluckily famous in her previous life.
Isabel Nottingham was as elegant as seen in the picture of that mansion. Her eyebrows, long white neck, and a slightly husky voice, resembling her brother’s. She was a model of a well-endowed woman. Madeline could see the intelligence and stubbornness in her eyes.
As for Madeline, she couldn’t help her gaze from continually wandering in that direction. She had never seen Isabel Nottingham alive and moving before.
“Hmmm.”
After George Colhaz had coughed a few times, Madeline realized that she had not responded to his words.
“Well, I don’t know much about art.”
Madeline smiled lightly. Now it was better to let the man in front of her make as much noise as he wanted.
“But there must be at least one painting of your favorite style, right?”
“……”
Madeline hesitated a bit. She didn’t often say her preferences out loud.
“I like Edward Burne-Jones’ paintings.”
“Hmm. Is that so?”
The man smiled strangely.
It was then. Suddenly, there was a clicking sound. Madeline turned around and saw Ian’s sister, Isabel yelling at the top of her lungs. There were broken champagne glasses scattered on the floor.
The short haired woman wiped away tears and screamed.
“It’s not brother’s place to tell me what to do!”
“Isabel, keep your voice down. There are many eyes….”
“You always spend your time watching people’s eyes.”
“Isabel.”
Ian’s expression was cold. His eyes were so sharp that Madeline couldn’t believe he was someone who had danced with her before. The sight of it sent a shiver down her spine. The atmosphere of the dinner party instantly froze.
Perhaps her brother’s calm demeanor was unbearable or she was embarrassed, Isabel Nottingham hurried out of the banquet hall. She walked away, pushing past the people with large strides. Ian didn’t get out of his seat. He continued eating as if nothing had happened.
“….!”
The sight of him made Madeline suddenly feel as if her whole body were paralyzed.
‘When did Isabel die? I can’t remember.’
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Madeline got up from her seat.
“I’m sorry. Please wait a moment.”
Chapter 7: 6
— I once thought of his life as a slow suicide. A life of separating himself from the world, abandoning others, and waiting for death comfortably in the fort. What joy is there in such a life? It was very unfortunate.
* * *
Earlier.
“Look at that woman.”
George puffed on his cigar and laughed. Ian shrugged.
“Too many women, I don’t know who you are talking about.”
It was a boring party for “prestigious” gentlemen to begin with. It was about a gathering where social newcomers could mingle with each other.
However, Ian had an obligation to protect his sister from those of lesser quality. Tonight was the time to show some family love.
There was a woman in the direction of George Colhaz’s wink. A woman leaning diagonally against a pillar with a bored expression on her face. She was sipping champagne with her blonde hair neatly raised up.
She had a very young face but a pessimistic look in her eyes as if she had realized everything in the world.
At the sight of her, Ian rubbed his cigarette out on the tray.
George began to mumble.
“I’ve been counting down the number of times that young lady has turned down the dance request.”
“No, it seems you have nothing better to do.”
William, next to him, laughed with astonishment.
“A total of six times. More than six times she refused to dance.”
“She’s just made her debut, so she’s not desperate.”
“She may already have a partner.” William casually spoke. Ian said nothing. It was only then that he remembered the woman.
The first boring encounter. The Baron of the old country house and his daughter Madeline Loenfield. It was the first impression of a typical anachronistic rural feudal aristocratic family.
There were obvious signs that she was blatantly avoiding Ian. It didn’t matter either way on his part. He didn’t like the shy type either.
But, why does Madeline Loenfield in a light blue dress look different to him now? She stepped back from the banquet and acted like she was watching a movie. That contemplative gaze was interesting.
“I think I’m going to talk to her.”
George murmured.
“Suddenly? That’s not very polite.”
William stopped George quickly.
“I don’t think there is such rudeness these days. This isn’t the Victorian era. Take a good look, and wait for me and learn.”
It was the moment when George was about to get up from his seat. Ian walked out before him.
“Oh. Look at this. You…”
Ian heard George’s exasperated voice from behind him. Ian Nottingham made the first move without even knowing it. It was inevitable, as he always had to get what he wanted first.
* * *
They danced. The woman’s slender body spun around in his arms.
Her face glowed colorfully under the chandelier light.
It was solemn or startlingly immature. He liked the woman who alternated between diverse faces.
The woman who mumbled things that made no sense, the woman who looked at him like she was sad, she was quite an interesting partner.
Interesting and funny was important to him. For him, many things were boring, so this little curiosity was precious.
He was young and had never experienced a serious failure in his life. Everything was on the road to success. And that too at a very rapid rate.
All things in the world were in his hands, so much so that the unpredictable – but always within controllable limits – danger was worth it. Like, for example, dancing with a woman who didn’t like him at all.
Ian danced the waltz with Madeline Loenfield several times. He could feel the eyes of the entire sitting room piercing them. Annoying, but bearable.
He gently held the woman’s hand.
Why does she tremble? It’s all right. Whatever the reason.
The fact that he was holding her hand now was what was important.
* * *
“You finally danced.”
“Yes.…”
“One after another.”
The Marchioness opened her eyes and pursued Madeline.
“Ah…yes…I’m sorry I have the amazing Master Nottingham all to myself.”
The Marchioness was always angry at Madeline for why she wore tacky clothes, why she was quiet, and was about to be scolded just by breathing.
”But…”
In the carriage, the Marchioness took a quick look at Madeline. Her expression was a half mixture of calmness and satisfaction.
“Madeline Loenfield.”
“Yes.”
“……The Nottingham family is magnificent, honorable, respectable, and wealthy.”
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“…yes.”It was almost like “the earth is round.”
The wealth of the Nottingham family only grew stronger as time went on. In fact, it was the same then. There were other people in line wanting to marry them besides Madeline.
It was like, “I don’t care if he’s a man who can’t move himself properly.” Many of the families wanted to marry him for their daughters.
“How about….”
The Marchioness lightly pushed Madeline’s shoulder.
“What?”
“Go for it…”
The Marchioness’ words caused Madeline to look at her hurriedly. The woman fanned her hands and began to look away.
‘Ugh. It’s really ridiculous.’
“…… as I told you. We only danced a few dances.”
Madeline felt tired, thinking how much fuss her father would make if he knew this story.
She was sincerely beyond tired. Why was it so drastic just because she had danced with a man once? Ian Nottingham danced with other women besides Madeline. Nevertheless, people seemed to see only what they wanted to see.
‘From now on I must keep as much distance as possible. Somehow keep the lines of movement from overlapping.’ Madeline swore again.
* * *
How long can one’s commitment last? Madeline sighed, for the society of London was too small to keep its vows. The Nottinghams were too powerful to ignore, and it was unavoidable that she would meet the man every time she appeared in a powerful position.
Moreover, with the exception of Ian Nottingham, it was the society itself that wore her down.
There, gentlemen and ladies were like peacocks boasting their feathers to each other. They competed with each other as if to show off how much they could use and how much more exalted they were. The emerging class was the emerging class, and the declining families played their roles in their own way….
Madeline smiled mechanically as she took on the role of the daughter of a declining family. She laughed so much that her mouth twitched. The dinner party was over and everyone was gathering for after-dinner drinks.
The room was bright at night when the lights came on. People’s white teeth glistened under them.
“Art is corrupt. There is nothing left but nudity.”
The man sitting in front of her had a vein popped up on his neck.
The man named George Colhaz was a promising lawyer with brown hair. He kept his appearance, but he talked too much.
Picasso, Matisse. Madeline also knew the people George Colhaz was talking about. After the war they became very famous. Even Madeline, who was ignorant of the world, knew the price of their paintings had gone through the roof.
She thought that if she bought one of their paintings now, it would be a great investment. But she could not afford to worry about such things right now. It was hard to concentrate on George’s words because she kept glancing across the table.
There was Ian Nottingham. The man did not speak to her today. Instead, he was talking to the woman sitting next to him.
Isabel Nottingham. Ian Nottingham’s sister, ill-fated and unluckily famous in her previous life.
Isabel Nottingham was as elegant as seen in the picture of that mansion. Her eyebrows, long white neck, and a slightly husky voice, resembling her brother’s. She was a model of a well-endowed woman. Madeline could see the intelligence and stubbornness in her eyes.
As for Madeline, she couldn’t help her gaze from continually wandering in that direction. She had never seen Isabel Nottingham alive and moving before.
“Hmmm.”
After George Colhaz had coughed a few times, Madeline realized that she had not responded to his words.
“Well, I don’t know much about art.”
Madeline smiled lightly. Now it was better to let the man in front of her make as much noise as he wanted.
“But there must be at least one painting of your favorite style, right?”
“……”
Madeline hesitated a bit. She didn’t often say her preferences out loud.
“I like Edward Burne-Jones’ paintings.”
“Hmm. Is that so?”
The man smiled strangely.
It was then. Suddenly, there was a clicking sound. Madeline turned around and saw Ian’s sister, Isabel yelling at the top of her lungs. There were broken champagne glasses scattered on the floor.
The short haired woman wiped away tears and screamed.
“It’s not brother’s place to tell me what to do!”
“You always spend your time watching people’s eyes.”
“Isabel.”
Ian’s expression was cold. His eyes were so sharp that Madeline couldn’t believe he was someone who had danced with her before. The sight of it sent a shiver down her spine. The atmosphere of the dinner party instantly froze.
Perhaps her brother’s calm demeanor was unbearable or she was embarrassed, Isabel Nottingham hurried out of the banquet hall. She walked away, pushing past the people with large strides. Ian didn’t get out of his seat. He continued eating as if nothing had happened.
“….!”
The sight of him made Madeline suddenly feel as if her whole body were paralyzed.
‘When did Isabel die? I can’t remember.’
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Madeline got up from her seat.
“I’m sorry. Please wait a moment.”
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