Chapter 188 Ch187 Taylor without an Heir

Chapter 188 Ch.187 Taylor the Childless

When Randolph hurried home after a busy day, he heard a loud and well-spoken "woof"——

He thought his sister had bought a pet.

Shouldn't it?

"Mr. Collins visited today."

Teresa personally served him, taking off his windbreaker and scarf, hanging up his hat and gloves, and told him everything that happened today.

Although the relationship between little Taylor and Collins is very close, Teresa is not sure how good it is.

The old maid observed Randolph's expression as she spoke - until the shrewd businessman discovered this and made fun of him.

"Theresa, you watched me grow up."

The old maid shrugged and rolled her eyes at Randolph like a child: "...so what? I have to be careful. If I'm kicked out at this age, I'll freeze to death."

Randolph laughed and said, "Mr. Taylor would whip me with a riding crop."

"If he was willing, I would have been able to take care of little Taylor."

Teresa made it clear both in and out of her words.

Or a kind of intimate complaint.

Because she has followed Randolph's father since she was young, and now she is almost half of Randolph's family.

As she watched Randolph and Beatrice born and grow up, some worries were inevitable.

For example, Beatrice's 'illness', such as...

When did Randolph Taylor get married and have children.

"It's time for the Taylor family to have an heir."

Randolph waved his hand and told the servants who were approaching to disperse, stepped on the carpet, sat down on the sofa, and crossed his legs lazily.

"That's what's in front of you."

Looking at the man who was still like a child in front of her, Teresa let out a long sigh, walked around the long table in small steps, and went to the box on the counter to get him a cigar.

After passing it over, he cut off the head and lit it with a silver tin lighter.

"I just hope that I can see you get married before I die," she said.

Randolph held his cigar and took a puff: "...You don't know, Teresa, I'm quite popular among ladies."

"Only 'provoke', but not marry." Theresa put down the lighter, took off his tie, unbuttoned his collar, and tightened his neck loosely: "Mr. Taylor came twice Xin, I see that your happy days are coming to an end."

"Xiaoyao?" Randolph grinned and couldn't help complaining: "I am busy every day for the Taylor family. But your real master ran away to Bolti and did not come back all winter."

Teresa said expressionlessly: "At least he gave birth to a baby."

Randolph: ...

"Theresa, I think that rather than women, I should focus on the development of the Taylor family first—"

The old maid smiled and nodded: "I really want to agree with you, sir. As a servant, in order to avoid embarrassment, you should make mistakes with your master."

Randolph pouted.

He couldn't defeat Teresa, especially as the older this person got, the more powerful she became.

She watched herself grow up and knew almost everything about him.

"I asked Sally to leave."

Teresa said suddenly.

"Sally..." Randolph looked sideways and recalled for a moment, but still couldn't remember the name: "...who?"

"New servant."

Theresa said.

She told Randolph in detail what happened outside the bathroom.

"...You're right, there can't be another 'Lei' in the Taylor family. You have to help me keep an eye on these people." He dusted his knees, crossed his legs, stared at the fireplace, and fell into deep thought, "About that matter , I don’t care, Teresa.”

He was referring to the cursed brown-skinned woman brought by Roland today.

"I said, Roland is my friend."

Randolph did not want Teresa to speculate on his thoughts on this matter, and told the old maid clearly: "He is my friend, and I am willing to give my sincerity and friendship. Because before this, he has given me the same Something.”

Teresa nodded lightly: "I understand. So, regarding the servants who take care of and treat Miss Beatrice, have you decided on a replacement?"

Because the middle-aged maid was unwell and was going to take leave to go home, some young people were eager to give it a try and came to Teresa to plead for mercy, saying they wanted to become Beatrice's personal maid.

Teresa agreed on the surface, but turned around and didn't say a word to help them.

Of course, the Taylor family has the final say.

"I'm not at home often, Teresa." Randolph pinched his eyebrows and looked tired: "...Oh, how about that tutor you mentioned before...?"

"Miss Bronte? That is indeed a qualified candidate." Theresa nodded: "She is very patient and has two periods of teaching experience - to be honest, Beatrice quite likes her. "

"Beatrice doesn't need teaching experience." Randolph's blue eyes flashed: "As long as she likes it."

Brontë…

"Let me see her, Teresa."

…………

…

When Bronte was led to the living room, Randolph was flipping through a thin book of poetry boredly.

The wine in the wine glass was as low as the fire in the fireplace.

This proved to be too late.

"Mr. Taylor, please forgive me for being rude."

Bronte wore her hair in two thick braids, which were still wet from her washing—the reason for the apology.

In fact, servants (including tutors) are not allowed to dress like this in daily life. In order to facilitate work and maintain a neat appearance, these servants must tie up their long hair and secure it with clips.

Of course, at this time, Randolph didn't care much about this little thing.

He invited her to sit down and talked to her about Beatrice.

Unexpectedly, this Miss Bronte made her feel very...

Not at all…

personality?

No, it should be said that she was extremely cautious.

This is a woman ‘wearing a mask’.

"I think you are not too old, Miss Bronte." Randolph crossed his hands and placed them on his lap. "What made you willing to work as a tutor at Taylor's house? I heard Theresa mentioned, The family you served before was a noble one."

Randolph said.

"...Situated on a hillside covered with flowers and green leaves, you can always enjoy the clear stream running through the valley, and maybe occasionally have a picnic in the shade with the servants serving you."

"It sounds wonderful to me."

Bronte showed a standard smile and put her hands together on her belly: "Due to family reasons, my sisters and I came to London. Sir, I have to take care of them."

"That's it." Randolph didn't go into details and picked up the wine glass and took a sip.

of course not.

Bronte said to herself.

If it hadn't been for the arrogant, impolite boy who always tried to stab himself in the arm with a fork; if it hadn't been for every 'accident' that her mother had said indifferently, 'He's still a child'; if it hadn't been for a certain time, those few Boys and girls secretly set their own beds on fire.

Not for this kind of 'accident', she was quite happy to please these lawless little bastards in exchange for a few shillings a week.

But the premise is that she must ensure that she can survive and bring the money home.

"My sister is a little childish, Miss Brontë."

Randolph couldn't tell what the female teacher in front of him was thinking. Her face was almost like the red wine in his hand, which could only reflect his own.

"A little bit 'childish'. Rather than teaching foreign languages ​​or noble arts, I just hope you can talk to her often... It would be better if you could accept her lively personality."

Bronte replied politely: "I like Miss Beatrice very much, sir. It would be an honor for me to be her teacher."

Randolph glanced at her, opened the poetry book, and lowered his head to turn a page.

"I will let Teresa pay attention to you, Miss Bronte. Although you are of ordinary origin, what you do should be more noble than your origin, right?"

There was a warning in his voice.

Bronte clenched her hands, her smile remained the same, and she slowly stood up to say goodbye: "Of course, Mr. Taylor. Then I'll start with... Oh, by the way, the author of your collection of poems is Leslie?"

Randolph paused with his fingers, turned it over, and looked at the author.

surprise.

"...You like him too?"

Bronte bowed slightly and backed away: "No. Because there is evidence that all his works come from friends around him - he is a shameful plagiarist."

Randolph: ...

The maid smiled brightly and exited the living room.