There were several other young women of marriageable age like Adele in Lane Village, as well as in Rhode Town and the neighboring villages. Perhaps some of them had their eyes on her cousin, too.
No. I absolutely can't let them get their way.
Danvers's eyes shifted as an idea came to her. She lowered her voice and asked, "You haven't fallen for my cousin, have you?"
"Of course not. Don't go saying things like that." Adele's voice grew noticeably quieter.
"But my cousin seems to have someone he likes already, and quite a few girls have been asking about him. Still, you're my best friend, so I could help you win him over. Want me to come up with a plan and arrange for you to meet him?"
Danvers feigned enthusiasm. With her acting as the go-between, how could Adele possibly get her wish and meet Bruce? And how could Bruce possibly come away with a good impression of Adele?
Danvers, you really are so clever! she congratulated herself smugly.
Adele had no idea what her best friend was thinking. Her eyes sparkled as she gazed at Danvers, deeply touched.
"Yes, yes! Danvers, you really are my best friend."
The carriage came to a steady stop outside Mistvale Manor. Bruce lifted the curtain over its doorway, and the attendant waiting at the entrance immediately stepped forward to welcome him.
After getting out, Bruce thanked the male attendant and followed him into the party.
The party was being held on the ground floor of the manor's main hall. There were plenty of guests, including, just as Danvers had said, many pretty young ladies and quite a few sons of wealthy families. Standing among them, Bruce looked all the more rustic by comparison, even in his brand-new formal clothes.
But none of that mattered to Bruce.
Wealthy men, landowners, young gentlemen, young ladies, and attendants-altogether, there were nearly two hundred people.
Bruce unobtrusively swept his gaze over everyone in the ground-floor hall, guessing at their identities. Most were from Lane Village, and they seemed somewhat ill at ease, perhaps feeling they ought to be on their best behavior at a nobleman's party.
He saw no missionaries from the Goddess of the Night Church.
The hall was spacious enough that even this gathering did not feel crowded. There seemed to be people upstairs as well, some attendants standing and other people sitting, but the poor lighting made them hard to see, and he could not conveniently study them.
Baron Mistvale's family had not appeared in the ground-floor hall. Either they were still preparing in their rooms and would make their entrance last, or the people upstairs were the baron and his family.
As the hosts of the evening, they were sure to be surrounded by guests once they appeared.
Bruce considered this to himself.
He was only here for the food. Outwardly, he was an insignificant young man, so he probably would not have much contact with the Mistvale family.
Bruce's attention was soon drawn to the pastries and other delicacies at the party, along with roast meat and all sorts of other delicious-looking meat dishes-his favorites. His stomach immediately began growling fiercely, clamoring to be filled with meat.
A nobleman's party really was different: lavish and refined.
Taking a glass of fruit juice from an attendant's tray, Bruce began working his way through the hall's assortment of delicacies.
Wayne Manor had dismissed its former servants, including the cook. During his weeks at the manor, Bruce had lived on dry bread with a little sauce to make a meal of it. His food had improved only slightly after he arrived in Rhode Town. Now, at last, he could enjoy a proper feast.
It suddenly occurred to Bruce that Danvers might attend balls so often not because she enjoyed socializing, but because there was nothing good to eat at the manor.
Hmm, I definitely need to hire a cook for the manor.
The kitchen needs some alterations, with a few large pots and cooking stoves. Then I'll be able to eat the food from the homeland I remember.
Bruce made no attempt to restrain his appetite. He ate whatever tasted good and spat out anything that did not.
Unlike those wealthy people and nobles, he did not have to maintain perfect etiquette at all times, curb his behavior, watch his image, take only tiny tastes of his food, and keep smiling. That would have been far too exhausting.
Eating delicious food, drinking fruit juice, listening to songs, and occasionally admiring the graceful dancing of the wealthy young ladies-coming to tonight's party had been well worth it. He did not even have to pay.
Naturally, Bruce was very satisfied.
People noticed his crude behavior, but few paid it much attention. They merely gave him a little space, presumably feeling that associating with someone so uncouth would lower their standing.
The dining and dancing areas were on the ground floor, while several tables had also been set up upstairs. The only way up was the broad staircase directly opposite the hall's main entrance. No one except the attendants went upstairs.
Attendants stood on either side of the staircase, stopping any guests who tried to ascend.
The partygoers also noticed several ladies with graceful figures seated upstairs. Though they could not make out their faces, they could guess that these were probably Baron Mistvale's wife and daughters.
As he sampled the food, Bruce also listened to the wealthy guests' conversations. They discussed their families, exchanged business matters, and shared gossip about prominent figures.
That included the Mistvale family's affairs.
Although Baron Mistvale was a nobleman, his title was not hereditary. He had risen from commoner to noble, earning his present status through his achievements. Like the great philanthropist Guen, he had been granted a barony for his outstanding contributions.
Such a title belonged to its recipient alone and could not be inherited.
Baron Mistvale's name was Cameron Mistvale. He had once been an outstanding soldier, repeatedly earning military honors during an era of frequent warfare. After the war ended, his exceptional military achievements had earned him the title of baron, along with a grant of land.
His land was in Isbeth, very close to Forendana. It was said that Cameron's grandfather's generation had once worked in the Gothe District, which was why he had thought of settling here.
What others envied was that Baron Mistvale, then nearly forty, had also married a very young, beautiful wife. He led a blissful life, having retired in glory and returned home in triumph.
The only regret was that Baron Mistvale was now nearly seventy, yet had only six daughters and no son. Nor did he have any close male blood relatives. In other words, when he died, all his property and his title would revert to the kingdom.
Unlike the Flaikent family, however, Baron Mistvale was a man of extraordinary resolve. His assets were not limited to land. He had invested all his funds in buying a mine in the Rediven Kingdom and gone into the ore business. Apparently, it was doing quite well, making him one of the few landowners to have successfully become a merchant.
Of course, his status as a baron of the Rune Kingdom had something to do with that. It made many things much easier.
The Rediven Kingdom did not have the Rune Kingdom's restrictions on land inheritance. The Rune Kingdom's restrictions on inheriting property were indeed extremely unfavorable to women. Even if Baron Mistvale died and his land in the Rune Kingdom was reclaimed, his wife and daughters could still live comfortably on the mining business in the Rediven Kingdom.
Business competition was too risky, however. Its returns were neither as secure nor as substantial as income from land, and the risks were unknown. Many people were urging Baron Mistvale to marry off his six daughters as soon as possible, making sure they married eligible men.
His eldest daughter was twenty-seven and still unmarried. If she grew any older, even money might not be enough to find her a husband.
Yet Baron Mistvale had no intention of marrying his daughters off.
All his daughters were reasonably attractive, but they rarely attended balls, and pitifully few men had ever met them. For a time, outsiders had believed that Baron Mistvale did not want his daughters to have contact with men beyond the family.
But Baron Mistvale's public explanation was that he would not interfere in his daughters' affairs. If a man won one of their hearts, he would approve the marriage regardless of the man's background-nobleman, landowner, wealthy merchant, or pauper.
What an open-minded father.
This greatly excited many young men from modestly wealthy merchant families. After all, Baron Mistvale's family was a noble household, part of genuine high society-the very circles that landowners and rich merchants had always longed to enter.
Almost every young man attending the party had the same ambition: to marry one of Baron Mistvale's daughters.
Baron Mistvale was a nobleman. As long as he remained alive, his daughter's dowry was certain to be generous. More importantly, the groom's family could rely on his noble status to further expand its influence within its own businesses.
With six daughters, surely they could win over at least one.
As for losing that noble status after Baron Mistvale died, that was not something they cared about. There was still the ore business in the Rediven Kingdom, after all, so life would hardly be bad.