“Leave me alone then. I am the granddaughter of the Joneson Family, not a death row inmate,” Elspeth retorted.
It was not the first time she found him annoying, but she had completely lost control this time.
“Miss, please don’t make things hard for me. I am just a butler in the family. I only wish to do my job and support my family. Your actions are really pushing beyond my limits…”
She did not expect a man in his fifties would burst into tears in public.
Although his cries were not that loud, it was extremely embarrassing for her.
“Alright,” she said. “Enough. I won’t go. Stop crying. How can you cry in front of so many people when you’re at this age?”
Mr. Wordsworth finally heaved a sigh of relief upon hearing her comply. “Very well, Miss. I’ll send you home first.”
Home?
“Grandfather said I can go anywhere I want as long as I stay in Blaydal, right?” Elspeth deliberately asked as she stroked her chin.
Not comprehending what she was trying to say, he blankly nodded in response.
“That means he won’t do anything no matter how late I stay out, right?”
As if her words had completely blindsided him, he nodded once more.
“All right,” Elspeth said, standing up and tearing apart the ticket in her hand. “The ticket is destroyed. I won’t be going anywhere, so stop following me.”
Evidently, he was hesitant to believe her sudden change of heart. “You’re not lying, are you?”
“Of course not.”
Her biggest priority right now was calming him down. She could not directly bicker with him, and there was no way she would win in a fight against the many people he brought with him.
“Very well, Miss. If that is all, I’ll be heading back first.” There was a look of appreciation on his face like she was his daughter who had finally grown up.
To him, it seemed like she was an obedient girl.
Later that day, when he was busy searching everywhere for her, he felt like slapping himself in the face for having that train of thought.
He should have dragged her back to the Joneson Residence!
When she returned to the hospital, she found Frank in his bed, watching a soccer match. “Were you the one who tattled, Frank?” she coldly asked, standing in the doorway.
Frank had not expected to be accused of a crime like that by name. “Tattle?” he exclaimed as he shot up straight. “Tattle about what?”
“Oh? Are you admitting to your crime?” she asked.
“I say.” Frank sighed, exasperated. “Why are you throwing a tantrum now? You want to borrow my private helicopter?” he asked, confused.
He squinted at her. “Why do you want a helicopter? Let me guess; you were going to Damoria to look for Callum, but old Mr. Joneson’s men stopped you.”
Elspeth chuckled. “You’re smart.”
“You’re quite the brave soul, Elspeth. You know just how close of an eye he’s keeping on you, yet you insist on going to Damoria right now.”
Naturally, he disapproved of her action. It was too dangerous and would likely infuriate old Mr. Joneson.
“I’ve made up my mind. No one can change it,” she declared.
“I wonder who on earth you took after,” he said, sighing. “You’re so stubborn, always committing to whatever you decide on.”
Her heart skipped. Her father, Davion Lynwood, was a kind and gentle soul who was often the mediator of the town. She likely inherited her temper from her mother.
“However, if you borrow my private helicopter, would…”
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Hiding Behind Her Superficiality