Gideon lifted his chin ever so slightly, signaling for her to go on.
Celestine took the cue without hesitation, sensing nothing odd in his gesture.
Vernon, on the other hand–what?!
His eyes widened in disbelief.
Was he witnessing the impossible? Like Mars crashing into Earth, or a black hole being plugged by an asteroid?
Was his young master actually sipping, with perfect composure, the very nourishing soup he’d always hated?
As an exemplary secretary, Vernon’s curiosity grew exponentially.
Gideon shot him a sidelong glance. “Vernon, do you not have work to do?”
Vernon smiled politely. “Just remembered–I left some urgent paperwork at the office that needs my signature. Good day, sir.”
With that bold–faced lie, Vernon turned on his heel and made a swift exit.
The old man had introduced Gideon to so many potential brides, yet somehow, he’d overlooked the “already married” variety!
Gideon, so ascetic all these years, suddenly blindsided by this kind of drama–it was almost too much to process.
Vernon’s perfect 20/20 vision had caught everything: when Miss Selwyn was spoon–feeding the medicine, Gideon’s gaze was practically glued to her.
He understood now.
No wonder, when Gideon had taken a bullet through the shoulder, he’d insisted on recuperating at home, toughing it out. But now, for a relatively minor injury, he insisted on staying in the hospital–asking the doctor to wrap him up like a mummy, no less!
That wound had scabbed over the very first night, yet he was still here, milking it for all it was worth.
Vernon wondered how the old man would react if he knew. He almost looked forward to it.
Affairs among the elite really were every bit as melodramatic as in the novels.
1/3
Celestine finished feeding Gideon the last spoonful.
When she lowered the bowl, he looked at her, almost reluctant, and asked, There it?”
She paused, a bit surprised.
This particular soup was medicinal–it lacked the comforting aroma of a regular broth, and even had a faint bitterness.
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t something people enjoyed.
She’d made it for her two children before–both had hurled their bowls and spat out the soup right then and there.
“If you like it, Mr. Prescott, I’ll make more next time.” Celestine’s expression was calm as she gathered up the dishes.
Gideon noticed the pale skin of her hands, marred by what looked like old oil burns. His eyes darkened.
“That won’t be necessary.”
Celestine lowered her gaze, hiding her emotions. “Still, thank you for saving me. Please, let me take care of your hospital bills this time. Whenever it’s convenient, you can have Mr. Vernon send me the invoice.”
Gideon stared at her, half amused, half exasperated. “Do I look like I’m short on money?”
So, she’d switched back to formalitiés again.
“In that case… if you ever need anything, Mr. Prescott–or if there’s ever anything I can help with–please contact me. I owe you one.” Celestine looked uncertain, clearly out of her element.
She’d never been in a situation like this before.
He didn’t want her money, and with his status, there wasn’t much she could offer.
Surprisingly, this time, Gideon didn’t argue.
Just before she left, he tossed his phone onto the table in front of her. “Let’s ad each other as friends, Miss Selwyn.”
Celestine calmly scanned his contact code.
A call came through at that moment.
21:11
“Miss Joanna, are you sure you don’t want any dinner? The chef made something really delicious today,” Celia said, carrying her own bowl, eyes anxious with
concern.
Joanna shook her head, her face pale and drawn. “My stomach’s upset–I don’t have much appetite. You all go ahead.”
Raymond piped up suddenly, “I know! My mom makes the best soup when.
someone’s feeling sick. When we had stomachaches, she’d always make it for us. She could make some for Miss Sinclair, too!”
“That’s too much trouble…” Joanna protested softly. “Besides, Celly’s not feeling. well either. I’ll be fine skipping a meal or two.”
Raymond was already dialing. “I’m calling Mom now! She hasn’t even
apologized–making a pot of soup is nothing.”
His mother’s soup was the best. If Miss Sinclair drank it, she’d definitely feel better.
He called Celestine.
This time, the phone rang and rang before she finally answered.
Raymond, growing impatient, blurted, “Mom, what are you doing? Come to the
hospital and make some soup for Miss Sinclair!”
Beeep. Beeep. Beeep.
The call was abruptly cut off.
Raymond stared at his phone, stunned.
Chapter
