Mysterious Mrs. Pansy

Beatrice’s scolding only made Jane regret attending the banquet. She was already bored and tired of sitting in one place. The nagging woman’s words weighed on her, making her contemplate leaving the event just to escape the relentless chastising.

However, before she could devise her escape plan, Florence approached once again, this time accompanied by a group of young women. Florence feigned as though she hadn’t encountered Jane before, and with a radiant smile, she kissed Beatrice’s cheeks.

“Mrs. Pansy, you look absolutely stunning. This must be Patrick’s fiancee, right?” Florence shifted her attention to Jane, extending her hand. “Hi, I’m Florence Doyle. Nice to meet you, Jane.”

Florence put on an act, radiating nobility and friendliness, and it would be impolite for Jane to ignore her. Jane couldn’t refuse the handshake in this setting.

Seeing that Jane had accepted the handshake, Beatrice intervened, glaring at Jane. With a polite smile, she said, “Don’t mind her, Florence. She’s just a country bumpkin, so she’s not familiar with proper etiquette.”

“It’s alright. I’ve heard Jane is quite talented. I noticed there’s a piano on the stage. How about we have a friendly competition to liven up the atmosphere?” Florence suggested.

Jane’s eyes narrowed as she fixed her gaze on Florence. People assumed she was a pauper from the slums, so she couldn’t help but wonder where Florence got the idea that she was musically talented. It was evident that Florence intended to humiliate her.

Before Jane could respond, Florence headed straight for the piano. As a member of a prestigious family and Patrick’s childhood sweetheart, Florence easily captivated everyone’s attention.

With skillful grace, Florence performed a piece she was very familiar with. An eruption of applause and praise followed the conclusion of her performance. After stepping down from the stage with regal poise, Florence addressed Jane, “I wasn’t giving it my all. Now, your turn, Jane. Let’s see if you’re up to the challenge.”This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

Florence’s friends began to taunt Jane. “You were outstanding up there, girl. Absolutely amazing!”

“Don’t hesitate, Jane. Get up on that stage and show us what you’ve got! Or do you not know how to play the piano? That would be a real blow to Patrick if his fiancee couldn’t even play a simple musical instrument.”

The surrounding guests watched, and some already shook their heads in disappointment, casting aside Jane’s reputation. Beatrice observed the unfolding scene and was mortified, causing her disdain for Jane to grow.

Finally, Jane gave a faint smile and said, “I’m not hesitating because I don’t know how to play. It’s more like playing the piano here makes me feel like a street performer. But, if you insist…”

She set her wineglass down and gracefully ascended the stage. Jane intentionally selected the same piece Florence had played, with Florence hoping to humiliate her.

Unbeknownst to Florence, Jane had become a piano virtuoso at just ten years old. No one would be able to humiliate her.

Melodious music soon filled the silent banquet hall, and shortly after, some guests paired up and began dancing to the enchanting melody. Those with musical knowledge could tell that Jane’s performance was far superior to Florence’s.

Patrick, who had been preoccupied with guests, turned his head upon hearing the captivating music. His eyes fell upon the angelic figure on the stage. Jane donned a light blue dress, and her wavy hair cascaded down her back and over her shoulder. With closed eyes, she delicately pressed the piano keys with her slender fingers, captivating the onlookers.

Those not dancing were entranced by Jane’s performance, and it became evident to everyone that Jane had outperformed Florence.

The applause was thunderous, and Jane gracefully descended the stage.

“You are indeed talented, Jane. Your skills surpass mine,” Florence admitted defeat despite her embarrassment and anger.

This was a blow to her pride. An educated, wealthy woman had been outperformed by a country girl.

“You played brilliantly, Florence,” Jane responded perfunctorily.

At that moment, a middle-aged man in a well-tailored black suit began to approach them. Jane recognized him all too well. He was Hamilton Grey, the butler of the North family. Jane couldn’t fathom why he was present; was her true identity on the verge of exposure?

Hamilton walked directly toward them, his gaze focused on Jane. However, he didn’t say a word to her. Instead, he turned to Patrick and Beatrice, saying, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Hamilton Grey, the butler of the North family. Mr. North isn’t feeling well, so he sent me as his representative. He conveys his apologies and warm regards.”

Beatrice stepped forward, shook Hamilton’s hand, and asked hastily, “Is Mr. North all right?”