Translator: 549690339
Why on earth had Mary Perryne asked her to stop putting cranberries in her cookies from now on?
Was she Viola Thompson’s maid?
Supposedly, she was obligated to make cookies for Viola Thompson?
Originally, Sylvia Thompson had considered Mary Perryne as a moderately competent mother. But now, all she felt towards her was disappointment.
She had never known that in Mary Perryne’s eyes, she was nothing more than Viola Thompson’s maid.
On the inside, Sylvia was heavyhearted, but on the outside, she still mustered a gentle tone of voice: “Alright, Mom, I get it. I’ll be more careful next time.”
Seeing Sylvia , Edward Thompson felt even more downcast.
What was their mother talking about?
Why should Sylvia have to make cookies for Viola?
If anyone should be making cookies, it should be Viola making them for Sylvia.
After all, Sylvia was the younger sister and Viola the elder. It was only natural that a big sister take care of her little sister.
Sylvia then offered a cookie to Mr. White, “Try one, Mr. White?”
Mr. White took a cookie, “Thank you.”
Sylvia glanced at Mr. White.
The man was about a meter eighty-nine tall.
An absolute model’s figure, the exposed wrist strong and sturdy, and his eyebrows and eyes were refined, drawing a second look.
He outshone those young, pretty boys by miles.
Most importantly, he was far more real than Sir Terrence.
Given the hundred-year lineage of the White family, his net worth must not lose out to the mysterious Sir Terrence.
No wonder he had so many suitors.
And with so many suitors, a man’s tastes would certainly set him apart from others.
So, she had to be a different kind of girl.
She wanted to make Mr. White pursue her.
No matter how indifferent Mr. White was to her now, he would deeply regret it later.
Mistreating your wife might feel good in the moment, but chasing after her would be like walking into a crematorium.
With that thought, the smile on Sylvia’s lips became more apparent.
She was waiting for that day.
It wasn’t long after.
Mr. White proposed to leave.
Mary Perryne, with a smile, asked the housekeeper to hand Mr. White the packed chestnut cake, “Thank you, Lady Thompson.”
“It’s just a small chestnut cake, hardly much of a favor. You’re always welcome to visit us again, Mr. White,” Mary Perryne said.
Mr. White smiled and said, “I certainly will.”
“Mom, Dad, I’ll see Sir White out.” Edward Thompson offered to see him off.
Sawyer Thompson nodded, “Go ahead.”
Edward made a ‘please’ gesture, “Sir White, please.”
Mr. White took a step forward with his long legs.
The two walked side by side out of the main entrance and into the parking lot.
Mr. White turned to Edward, “Stay back. My driver will be here shortly.”
Edward Thompson checked his watch, “Why don’t I give you a ride home?”
Mr. White glanced at his watch, “That works. I’ll tell my driver not to come.”
That saved him a fuel expense.
The White family mansion was fifteen kilometers away from the Thompson Family Manor. Round trip, that was more than thirty kilometers. With gas costing two dollars per kilometer, he could save up to sixty dollars.
The fuel cost saved put Mr. White in a good mood, and he settled into Edward Thompson’s car.
Normally a fifteen-kilometer drive would only take ten minutes, but Edward was not driving fast, “Mr. White, there’s something I’ve been wanting to say.”
“Go ahead,” said Mr. White.
Edward continued, “My younger sister might not be what you think. She grew up in a rural area and didn’t get a formal education, so she’s fundamentally different from the rest of our family. Particularly Sylvia, they’re from two different worlds. Sylvia is naive and inexperienced, and if she gets manipulated, she might even defend the person doing it.”
Having said that, he paused, then continued, “In fact, I should not be saying this, I just hope you would not be deceived by appearances.”
Viola’s behaviour today was straightforward.
She just wanted to attract Mr. White’s attention.
Upon hearing this, Mr. White turned to look at Edward, “So, what are you trying to say?”
Edward decided to cut to the chase, “Mr. White, my little sister might have… some thoughts about you.”
Upon hearing this, Mr. White burst out laughing.
Edward furrowed his brow slightly, “What’s so funny?”
Mr. White retorted, “I find it amusing you can’t distinguish between intimacy and formality.”
Upon finishing, Mr. White added, “Though your little sister was raised in the countryside, her demeanor is definitely in no way inferior to your foster sister, even surpassing her in certain aspects!”
After all, she’s got Thompson blood running through her veins; she can never be that far off in comparison.
Upon hearing Mr. White’s words.
Edward’s heart thudded in his chest.
He realised he was sunk!
Mr. White was already fooled by Viola’s facade.