The butler dared not utter a word.
It was indeed Mrs. Isabella's request to change grooms, but if he answered, wouldn't that mean admitting that Mr. Daniel was not worthy of Mrs. Isabella?
He couldn't help but harbor some resentment towards the maids. What were they doing here, gossiping about such matters? Mrs. Isabella seemed to be in a foul mood lately, and now he found himself caught in the crossfire.
He dared not speak, only urging the servants to escort the maids away.
But the Bennett household servants were no fools. The butler's attitude confirmed that Mrs. Isabella truly didn't want Mr. Daniel!
They exchanged glances, genuinely surprised.
Isabella anticipated the butler's hesitation.
Those maids had indeed given her a clue.
The events of that evening were known only to the people of the two families. Richard had hinted at not spreading the matter, and she had to endure it for the time being.
However, changing grooms suddenly before the wedding would undoubtedly lead to wild speculations.
She couldn't let these unjust rumors tarnish her reputation.
After dealing with the maids, the butler, now wearing a forced smile, asked, "Mrs. Isabella, is there anything else you'd like to instruct?"
Isabella pointed to the kitchen items, "Um, those... and those, please have them delivered to the kitchen in my courtyard."
The butler noted, "Certainly, I'll have someone take care of it right away."
Isabella nodded in satisfaction, turned, took a couple of steps on the doorstep, then suddenly turned back, stomped her foot on the door, "The kitchen door isn't very sturdy, remember to replace it."
The butler looked at the fallen door with a strange expression, as if he couldn't fathom how a perfectly fine door could end up like that.
Nevertheless, he didn't question it and responded, "I'll arrange for a replacement immediately."
Back in the courtyard, Isabella soon saw the servants bringing in a pile of fruits and vegetables into the kitchen.
Feeling hungry, she rubbed her stomach, rolled up her sleeves, and prepared to cook some noodles.
In the study, Alexander, hearing the commotion outside, found it peculiar. He took out his phone to check the surveillance.
Seeing everyone orderly exiting the kitchen, he opened the kitchen's surveillance.
The once clean and empty kitchen was now filled with fruits, vegetables, and kitchenware. Isabella, wearing an apron, seemed to be cooking something.
She went out just for these things?
In the kitchen, Isabella was cooking noodles and had some strange feeling.
She turned around. The servants had left after delivering the items, leaving only one maid outside cleaning. However, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her.
Odd!
Alexander exited the surveillance, realizing she had a strong intuition.
In the kitchen, the strange feeling disappeared. Isabella shrugged and continued cooking noodles.
Alexander refrained from spying on Isabella.
Holding a book, he sat by the window, the study silent except for occasional page-turning.
Before long, a knock sounded.
Ignoring it, Alexander continued reading.
The person outside seemed to know Alexander wouldn't open the door, so they pushed it open and entered.
Isabella carried two plates of noodles on a tray and walked to Alexander, placing the tray on the table by the window.
Alexander glanced at the plate—pasta with tomato sauce and a few meatballs as garnish—then shifted his gaze away.
Surveying the room, Isabella noted there were no other chairs aside from Alexander's wheelchair. Understandably, as he didn't need additional seating.
She didn't mind sitting on the floor. Crossing her legs, she looked at Alexander with a beaming smile, "I made noodles. Care to join me?"
Alexander turned a page, absorbed in his book.
Isabella, finding that the book was in a language she couldn't understand, was now certain that the rumors about Mr. Alexander being multilingual were true.
This further solidified her belief that Alexander wasn't mentally impaired but was facing psychological issues.
She extended her index finger and lightly poked Alexander's arm inquisitively, quickly retracting it.
Alexander tilted his head, glanced at her, and returned to his book.
Raising an eyebrow, Isabella extended her hand again, giving him a poke.
This went on, back and forth, several times.
Snap!
Alexander closed the book, raised his eyes, and stared at her with intense, dark eyes. His thin lips pressed tightly together, conveying both anger and a sense of being wronged.
"You're bad!"