Thunder cracked outside the window.
Soren thought of Poppy. He hesitated for a moment, but instead of insisting any further, he turned and strode away.
After all, he was Old Mrs. Fawkes’s grandson. Evangeline couldn’t help but call aft him, “Soren, think this through. It’s dangerous for you to go back now.”
But Soren acted as if he hadn’t heard her. He didn’t even look back, and soon his figure vanished into the endless curtain of rain.
Unlike before, Evangeline didn’t rush after him.
There was no point.
She knew, just as always, she couldn’t persuade him.
What she hadn’t expected was that, for Poppy, Soren would risk everything–even his own life.
“Miss Whitmore, your room is ready.” The housemaid appeared at that moment, stepping into the living room. Noticing she was alone, the maid looked around in
confusion. “Where’s Mr. Fawkes?”
“He went back,” Evangeline replied.
The maid’s eyes widened. “He went out in this storm? What if something happens?‘ She had served the Fawkes family’s matriarch for years and knew all about their affairs–including the tangled history between Evangeline and Soren.
Noting Evangeline’s resigned expression, the maid understood at once. She must have tried to stop him and failed.
Still, anyone could see venturing out in this weather was dangerous.
The maid offered a polite nod. “Don’t worry, ma’am. Please, go and rest. I’ll let the lady know.”
With that, she hurried off to the old woman’s room.
Evangeline didn’t say another word.
She had done everything she could.
Whatever she couldn’t say or do, she’d already tried anyway.
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She couldn’t stop him, and she didn’t want to try anymore.
Besides, she and Soren were about to divorce. She had no right to interfere in his business now.
Thinking this, Evangeline left the living room and returned to the room prepared for her.
Meanwhile, Soren braved the downpour and made his way back to the villa, relieved to see the lights on inside.
Gregory was there, helping the electrician pack up his tools. Soren finally allowed himself to breathe a little easier.
Gregory spotted him and explained, “Just a blown fuse. Nothing serious.”
Soren nodded. “Where’s Poppy?”
“Miss Yates twisted her ankle. She’s resting upstairs.”
Soren gave a few brief instructions and headed straight up.
As soon as he entered the room, he saw Poppy sitting on the bed in a silk nightgown, her shoulders bare, eyes red and swollen as she massaged her puffy ankle.
When she saw Soren, her lovely lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile.
She quickly hid it, and when she looked up again, her eyes were filled with surprise. “Soren, what are you doing back here in this storm?”
Soren didn’t seem to notice the shift in her expression.
“I heard what happened over the phone,” he said. “Then you stopped answering, and I got worried.”
Poppy’s smile deepened. “I tripped in the dark trying to find a flashlight, and my phone started acting up.”
“I can’t believe you came all the way back for me.”
She glanced at the water dripping from his hair and brow, uncertain whether it was sweat or rain.
Either way, it didn’t matter.
Soren had always been composed–aloof, even. She’d rarely seen him so
disheveled.
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Chapter 114
Poppy’s lips curved up as she teased, “Did you rush back because you were worried about me?”
Soren said nothing.
His gaze lingered on her ankle, swollen and red. “I’ll get you something for the pain.” He didn’t answer directly, but his actions spoke for themselves.
Poppy’s heart fluttered with triumph. Watching him rummage for the medicine, she glanced down at her nightgown and, after a moment’s thought, tugged the neckline a little lower.
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