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.”

ask, Marguerite blurted out impatiently, “I do

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

flicked to Frederick involuntarily, catching him with his arms crossed in a “let’s see how you’re going to answer this one” stance.

want me to spell it out, you might want to ask your son if he’s ready

you’re out of line! I’ve been tolerating you for far too long! If it weren’t for Teresa’s

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

leaping from his wheelchair, cane

posture was intimidating, but Marguerite wasn’t

Teresa is, I am. Your son might do without a wife, but my daughter won’t be without her

blink of an eye, it seemed every hair on Mr. Powell’s head

was livid, shaking with rage, his cane thumping

dare you to

calm yourself, she’s just a kid, don’t take it to

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

alright, I’ll have a word with her

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