SGB Chapter 331

## Chapter 331: The Early Stages of Human Romance

The ballroom buzzed with the sound of laughter and music, but Gladstone sat alone in a corner, his face etched with worry. He held a glass of red wine, his gaze fixed on the crimson liquid that reflected his youthful features.

“William, look at what you’ve done!” he muttered to himself, his voice laced with frustration. “You promised the voters you’d purge corruption from the government, yet you stand by and watch it unfold right before your eyes! You’re failing Sir Peel and the Duke of Newcastle!”

He rubbed his face with his hands, the skin turning a rosy red under the pressure. The action brought him a semblance of relief.

Just as he decided to step out for some fresh air, a flash of vibrant red and black caught his eye. It was Catherine Roswell, the girl he’d been longing to see.

Catherine seemed nervous, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, mimicking the poised demeanor of the more seasoned matrons at these gatherings. However, her youthful charm, a mere seventeen years of age, betrayed her efforts. The delicate white makeup couldn’t conceal the blush creeping across her cheeks, and the lace gloves, clutched so tightly, were creased and wrinkled.

“Will… William, are you just going to let me stand here, humiliated?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“Ah…” Gladstone blinked, still not fully awake from his thoughts. “I’m sorry, Catherine, you must be tired. Why don’t you sit by me? You look like you could use a sherry. I’ll get you one.”

Catherine’s gaze fixed on Gladstone, a mixture of embarrassment and anger clouding her expression. She wouldn’t have dreamed of coming to this stuffy, suffocating place if she hadn’t heard that Gladstone would be attending the ball. And her father, with his relentless persuasion, had finally convinced her to come.

She had patiently waited for Gladstone to ask her for the first dance, politely declining several other eager suitors. But Gladstone was nowhere to be found. She’d spent the entire evening searching for him, only to discover he had disappeared.

If it wasn’t for her father, Mr. Roswell, the old watchmaker, who wouldn’t allow her to leave, and the servants who feared defying their master’s orders, Catherine would have been tucked away in her own bed by now.

However, after waiting so long, only to be met with this response, Catherine felt insulted.

Mr. Roswell, noticing the tension building, quickly excused himself from his friends to play peacemaker. He rushed to his daughter’s side, whispering soothingly, “Don’t be upset, my dear. William and his father have something important to discuss. He might be preoccupied with business, and I’m sure he’s been saving that seat for you. He hasn’t asked any other lady for a dance.”

With a reassuring smile, Mr. Roswell adjusted his pocket watch, its hands ticking towards Gladstone. “William, why haven’t you asked Catherine for a dance? She’s without a partner. It’s considered quite rude to leave a lady unaccompanied at a ball.”

Gladstone, finally coming to his senses, jumped to his feet. “Ah! Catherine, I’m so sorry. I… I wanted to ask you to dance. I just… I’m sorry, truly sorry. There’s been so much going on, my mind’s been a jumble.”

Catherine, relieved that Gladstone hadn’t intentionally embarrassed her, quickly calmed down. She was drawn to him, and her initial frustration melted away. She was curious about what had caused the usually composed Gladstone to be so flustered.

“William, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Mr. Roswell, seeing the two young people finally connecting, discreetly retreated. “Yes, chatting and getting to know each other is beneficial too. Socializing doesn’t always require dancing. William, remember, don’t mention the Bank of England’s interest rates or the businesses in Levant and America. Unless you’re looking to attract someone like me, a man reeking of copper, rather than a charming lady like Catherine.”

Catherine rolled her eyes at her father, but Gladstone didn’t seem to notice, or perhaps he did but chose to ignore it. He shifted his position, inching closer to Catherine. Her alluring scent filled his nostrils, and his youthful hormones surged. His mind, which had been momentarily clear, became hazy once again.

“Well… it’s not a big deal, really. I just don’t agree with what my father and Inspector Hastings were discussing…”

Catherine nodded in agreement. “I sometimes don’t like my father’s opinions either. Like just now… though, William, I wasn’t referring to what you said.”

“It’s alright if it was directed at me too.” Gladstone chuckled, a touch of self-deprecation in his voice. “Actually, I’ve had a pretty bad year. I lost the party primaries to a Jew. I was so frustrated at the time, but now I see why he beat me. Maybe his way of expressing himself is a bit exaggerated, but at least he’s more pragmatic in his choice of campaign platform than I am.”

Catherine, seeing his dejected state, offered words of comfort. “William, don’t say that. Remember when we were kids? You told me, ‘People always have to look up to something.’ Pragmatism is good, but I always felt it was synonymous with vulgarity.”

Gladstone smiled. “Catherine, that wasn’t me, it was Kant. And he didn’t just say that. He also said, ‘With this crooked wood of humanity, nothing straight can be made.'”

Catherine nodded. “I know it was Kant, but you were the first to say it to me. That’s all that matters.”

“Catherine…” Gladstone gazed at the beautiful woman beside him, his heart skipping a beat. “Thank… thank you. You’re always so understanding. But thanks to you, I feel much better now. I… I…”

He tried to continue, but his father’s words echoed in his mind. He paused, his mouth half open.

Catherine, noticing his hesitation, asked, “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

“Nothing.” Gladstone forced a smile. “Normally, it’s the gentlemen who accommodate the ladies at social events. But now you’re comforting me. How can that be? I heard from Mr. Roswell that you love London life. You enjoy the music, paintings, architecture, and everything else. By the way, do you know about the phonograph? I brought back some records with me from London. Though they don’t sound as good as a live concert, they’re enough to lift your spirits. I’ll bring them over tomorrow.”

Catherine’s eyes lit up with excitement. “You like listening to records too? When the phonograph first came out in London, my father had one shipped back. But we don’t have many records, just a few songs. Though they’re all very beautiful, I’m getting tired of hearing them over and over again.”

“Is that so? Then I guess I bought the right gift.” Gladstone chuckled. “Who’s your favorite pianist? Mendelssohn, Bart, Moscheles, or Clementi? Let me guess… it can’t be Hastings, can it? Everyone says you’re very quiet, but I know there’s a fiery spirit hidden beneath that calm exterior. Mr. Hastings’ ‘The Bell’ is perfect for you.”

Catherine smiled softly. “William, you really know me. Out of all the records we have, I love ‘The Bell’ the most. I spent a month or two trying to learn it, but my performance doesn’t have the same passion and power as Mr. Hastings’. Speaking of which, is Mr. Hastings really retiring from the piano? He’s so young, he has so much time to create more brilliant pieces!”

Gladstone, tempted to tease Catherine, replied with a chuckle, “Perhaps it’s because Mr. Hastings has met Mr. Chopin? You must have seen the report on his farewell concert. Mr. Hastings said that he couldn’t bring himself to play in front of Chopin. Since he couldn’t be the best, he decided to leave the stage to a brighter star.”

Catherine sighed. “He’s so romantic. His musical career was short, but it was truly legendary. ‘The Bell’ announced his arrival, and Chopin’s ‘To Hastings’ became his curtain call. But what will Mr. Hastings do for a living if he doesn’t play the piano? Most pianists start learning music from a young age. They don’t know anything else except playing the piano and can’t take care of themselves. I hope the records of ‘The Bell’ bring him enough income, otherwise he’ll be left to starve and freeze.”

Gladstone’s mind flashed back to the scene of his father sending Arthur a large box of money, and for a moment, he was speechless.

He took a deep breath and replied, “Catherine, you are so kind. But you don’t need to worry about Mr. Hastings’ livelihood. He’s a unique kind of musician. Playing the piano is just a hobby for him. His main profession is as a senior inspector at Scotland Yard. And just recently, he was assigned to Liverpool to investigate smuggling.”

“Senior inspector? Investigating smuggling?” Catherine paused, a realization dawning on her.

Her eyes widened as she turned towards the smoking room on her left. “So…”

“That’s right.” Gladstone chuckled wryly. “The one in the smoking room is him.”

“My God!” Catherine exclaimed, her hand flying to her chest, a mix of excitement and disbelief. “I have to tell Sophia and Vivian. They’ll faint with joy! William, do you know? They’re both huge fans of Mr. Hastings.”

Gladstone was puzzled. “I understand Mr. Hastings having fans, but not to the point of obsession. After all, as a pianist, he’s still released relatively few works.”

Catherine shook her head. “William, have you forgotten Sophia and Vivian’s interests? Besides music, they also love natural philosophy, especially the most cutting-edge fields. They say Mr. Hastings is not only a brilliant pianist but also a young master in the field of electromagnetism. He’s even published several papers in the Royal Society’s monthly journal, co-authored with Faraday himself. How could they not be obsessed with someone like him?

You know how obsessed they were with Faraday before. Before the railroad was built, they would ride in a carriage to London to attend his lectures every now and then. Since the railroad opened, they haven’t missed a single lecture featuring Faraday. I heard they bought property in London last year, near Gresham College, where the Royal Society is located. It was just for their convenience when attending lectures.”

Gladstone took a sip of sherry. “So it seems they have good reason to be obsessed with Mr. Hastings. I think they could even be more obsessed. Besides being a researcher in electromagnetism and a pianist, he also defeated Bertrand, the Parisian sword master, on behalf of Britain. Did you see the sword at his waist? It was a gift from His Majesty.”

Catherine, unable to contain her excitement, asked, “Can you introduce me to Mr. Hastings later?”

Gladstone felt a pang of discomfort at her request. “You… you like him a lot?”

Catherine noticed the reluctant expression on Gladstone’s face. She felt a surge of happiness and a touch of pride. “William, I want to introduce him to Vivian and Sophia. Of course… I do have some personal motives, but… not in a romantic way. I remember he’s close to Chopin, right?

Actually, ‘The Bell’ is only my second favorite. My favorite is Chopin’s ‘To Hastings’. I want to ask him for a copy of the sheet music, even though it might be rude. It would be even better if it had his autograph.

“That’s it!” Gladstone’s mood instantly improved. “Catherine, don’t worry, I’ll get it for you. Even if it takes my life. But I didn’t expect your taste to be on the same level as royalty. You know, before I left for Liverpool, I heard His Majesty was considering appointing Chopin as the Royal Pianist. The King and Queen were completely captivated by his music.”

Catherine’s soft eyes sparkled with admiration. “William, you’re an angel…”

Before she could finish her sentence, she noticed a commotion near the entrance of the ballroom. Several guards were forcibly restraining a man trying to break free and rush into the room. A young man stood trembling behind him.

“Sir, I’m warning you for the last time. This is a private ball. You’re not on the guest list, so you can’t enter.”

“Let me in! I need to see Mr. Hastings! What I have to say is more important than this damned ball. It could save many lives!”

“What are you doing? Get rid of this man!”

“Sorry, Mr. Walker, we’re on it. Damn it! You bastard, you wouldn’t listen when we spoke nicely, so don’t blame us for being rough!”

“Mr. Hastings, I need to see Mr. Hastings!” the man shouted in frustration.

Just as the guards were about to carry the man out, Arthur stepped forward and placed a hand on one of their shoulders. “It’s cold outside. Let him come in for a drink. We have plenty of time tonight. There’s no need to rush him out.”

(End of chapter)