Bride Behind The Mask Novel

Chapter 485

Marguerite scanned the room and, to her relief, didn’t spot Frederick anywhere. She exhaled quietly and once again shook off Maurice’s grasp, making a

beeline for the staircase.

She had to get out of this ridiculous wedding gown before Frederick returned. If someone else fancied it, they’re welcome to it! She was certainly not going to wear it!

But as fate would have it, just as she turned around, there he was-Frederick, slipping off his shoes at the entrance. And his gaze, so perfectly timed, settled on her, clad in that damned dress.

Marguerite wanted to run, but inexplicably, her legs felt like they were filled with lead, refusing to budge.

In the end, it was Maurice who stepped forward, pulling her back to stand before Lisette. His face was stone as he announced, “Mom, this isn’t up for discussion. Whether you approve or not, I’m marrying Marguerite in a month.”

Marguerite shrugged off the hand on her shoulder, acutely aware of Frederick’s eyes on her, feeling like she was being pierced by thorns.

Just her luck! The very thing she didn’t want Frederick to lay his eyes on was now fully exposed to him..

Lisette, meanwhile, set aside her tea and leisurely cleaned her hands with a napkin, “If you want to marry her, you ought to ask if she agrees.”

for Maurice to ask, Marguerite

the ever-silent Powell Winston finally lost his temper. Angry, he started thumping his cane on the floor, “Marguerite, if not Maurice, then whom do you

gaze flicked to Frederick involuntarily, catching him with his arms crossed in a “let’s

her neck, “Whom I wish to marry is no mystery to Maurice. If you want me to spell it out, you might want to ask your son if he’s

it weren’t for Teresa’s sake, I’d have kicked you out

Marguerite couldn’t hold back, “I can leave,

Mr. Powell’s voice boomed, nearly leaping from his wheelchair, cane raised as if ready

was intimidating, but

choice but to stay. Where Teresa is, I am. Your son might

it seemed every hair on Mr.

with rage, his cane thumping more fiercely against the ground.

you to say that

over to calm Mr. Powell, “Enough, calm yourself, she’s just a kid, don’t take it to heart! Don’t let her get

twenty-five, she’s not a child anymore! Oh, Jocelyn, Marguerite has been spoiled by you

a word with her later.”