Chapter 586 Ch585 Cavendish's Bloodline

Chapter 586 Ch.585 Cavendish’s Bloodline

Beatrice was led to the old woman by Teresa with her eyes full of confusion - and when she discovered that the girl was wearing a skirt that exposed her ankles and calves, the etiquette was not fishy or not, and it was not even considered 'etiquette'...

Some words just don’t sound so nice.

"My treasure, I guess your brother must love you more than anyone else, right?" She looked at Beatrice, her mouth was affectionate, but her hand remained motionless against her belly: "He loves you very much, I have long heard that our Randolph loves his sister the most..."

"I love you so much that you are so tolerant that this girl who is about to get married has no manners at all."

"I said it for her."

"Do you remember me? You should call me aunt, kid."

Bethenny bent down slightly to make her twenty-year-old white face look more friendly: that was almost all she could do.

Beatrice was stunned for a few seconds, called her aunt, and then turned to look at Roland.

So, this also brought the topic to another person present.

"this--"

"My friend, Roland Collins." Randolph introduced: "My partner, an excellent and noble gentleman."

It seemed like this topic was more interesting to Bethany than 'Beatrice'.

She summoned a folding fan out of nowhere and treated the living room as a social gathering place. With an affectionate smile on her old face, she inquired about Roland's background.

"I am very familiar with your surname, and I must have heard of your glorious deeds - can you help an older person recall it? You have to forgive my memory, the sea breeze is blowing into my ears all night, in addition to the trumpets and waves, there are also It’s only really useful when talking to a fine young man like you.”

"Too long."

"It's just too long."

"My surname? From my father, of course, Ms. Cavendish."

Roland looked particularly enthusiastic and smiled as if he had seen the corpse of Mingsi Chloe: "My father, Old Collins, was a country squire. A fire caused this poor man to leave his child - mother? Oh, I Never met my mother."

The more Roland spoke, the stiffer Bethany's smile became.

"...Maybe I am an illegitimate child? Although I did not inherit much substantial wealth. None of this is worth mentioning before the spiritual wealth they left me - that is moral character, madam."

Roland was full of energy, raised his head half-way, and spoke passionately towards the oil painting next to Bethany...

"That's moral character!"

"I have excellent moral character and am an excellent person." The more he spoke, the more excited he became, and his two eyeballs were attracted to the tip of his nose like a magnet.

Randolph scowled.

Staying serious in such moments is a challenge more difficult than catching a stray cat.

"...I didn't know that your eyes were inconvenient, sir. Sit down quickly... Randolph! There is a benefactor! Find someone to help him!"

Anyway.

When Roland showed that he was deaf and poor, but had good moral character and full of self-confidence - the old Cavendish woman was no longer willing to talk to him.

Bethany Cavendish is an extremely standard lady.

Her way of judging people is precise and sharp, as if a few unnecessary polite words would damage her wealth and moisture. Soon, she abandoned Roland and Beatrice and only wanted to talk to Randolph——

Of course, she treated Bellows Taylor as well as the servant said.

It's just this kind of 'good', Roland can always find a touch of 'caution' in it.

"...I am the same as Teresa, Randolph. I miss you and worry about you. Maybe our feelings are no longer as bright as before with time and distance, but child, you have to know that you have cards in your body. Vendish's blood, you are one of us."

She said some obscure and strange things, and her smile was as disgusting as a whole jar of honey: "It's time for you to get married, have some beautiful and lovely children, and continue the bloodline of Taylor and Cavendish..."

"I think I've found my life partner, Aunt Bethany."

Randolph's words of rejection melted into the straighter lip line.

This statement made Bethenny very dissatisfied.

"I am very busy for you, my child. There are many beautiful, decent, and noble girls waiting for you. Looking at you, they can fall in love with you completely just by talking about the turmoil of business for a few words - Lan Dolph, how can you take matters into your own hands?"

She was angrier than Roland imagined, and even got angry in public.

The wrinkles on that pale face were squeezed out one by one, like a church in disrepair. When the Holy Child sneezed, it and the priest were about to fall apart.

"...Every time I come here, I have to ask you and worry about your marriage, but you do such an unseemly thing quietly! Randolph! A real wife is different from those unworthy things you can peel off." Same! Your father..."

Her chest rose and fell, and her tone was as cold and sharp as an ice arrow: "Your father is ill and your mother died early. Who else can help you choose and arrange this important event for you? Randolph, my child, do you want to Blame me, blame an old man, blame her for not taking care of you or the private affairs of the owner of "Golden Smoke"? "

"Yes, you are different now. Cavendish is not qualified to make irresponsible remarks. You think so, don't you?"

Roland lowered his head and let Beatrice pinch his fingers, a faint doubt flashing in his eyes.

As the sister of Randolph's mother, a blood relative, a rigid and polite old lady, Bethany Cavendish had reason to be angry, and rebuked Randolph in public, telling this long series of sarcastic remarks.

But Roland could sense that there was a hint of...anger in her tone?

"If the law would permit it, I would like to see the girl you speak of—it is a pity, Aunt Bethany, that I can only have one wife."

Randolph kept talking the same way.

Bethany Cavendish was a little impatient: "What kind of girl is that? Maybe she doesn't even have a family tree. Is her father's father a blacksmith? Or a shipwright? I know your character, Randolph, you always do things that surprise people." It's a big deal, causing trouble quietly——"

She stared at the maid standing behind Randolph with suffocating eyes, and asked coldly: "Teresa, tell me, don't lie to me. You have served Belos all your life, and now you are dragging this early body with you." The broken body that should return to the arms of the gods serves Cavendish’s little master——"

"Don't lie to me, tell the truth. What kind of woman has our Randolph found?"

Teresa ignored Randolph's wink and spoke calmly:

"Her name is Charlotte Brontë."

This was the first time she pronounced Miss Brontë's name in its entirety.

"A gifted writer, Mrs. Cavendish."

The old maid smiled slightly, and her light voice passed through the dense and dense depression in her sight.

"I think you'll see her name in the papers soon."