Chapter 4
Bradley said, "Did you cause trouble at Chelsea's place today?
"Didn't I tell you that Chelsea won't threaten your position as Lady Sawyer? Can't you be a bit more gracious and give her some leeway?"
As he spoke, Bradley moved to sit down, only to awkwardly realize there wasn't an extra chair anywhere in the room.
He had no choice but to stand across the table from me.
The maids completely ignored him, handing me a cup of coffee as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
Sipping my coffee, I fixed my gaze on Bradley.
"Why are you staring at me? Do I have something on my face or what?" said Bradley.
Bradley was obviously uncomfortable as he asked, his brows furrowed.
I let out a sigh. "Honestly, it's no wonder the Marquis Estate went downhill. With a brainless fool like you who believes whatever others tell you, you would have been doomed long ago if it weren't for my father's support.
"Did you cheat and get the imperial exam questions ahead of time?"
I tossed out the jab without even thinking.
Bradley's face turned bright red, furious at my scornful accusation.
Before he could explode, I picked up the handkerchief the maid had given me earlier with my fork and threw it right in his face.
"Take a good look at this dirty rag," I said.
Bradley caught it on instinct, looked it over, checking it out from all sides.
I suggested, "Don't recognize it? Maybe try smelling it.
"See if it still has Chelsea's scent on it. You used it to wipe her last night, didn't you?"
At my words, Bradley's hands froze mid-check, stopping dead as he examined the handkerchief.
He glanced at me in panic, then quickly looked away, unable to meet my eyes.
His grip on the handkerchief was so tight that his knuckles turned pale.
"You..." Bradley started, but I cut him off before he could get another word out.
"That darling Chelsea of yours sent her maid over, claiming I spend my days alone in an empty room, so she thought I should have this to look at and pine for you," I said, my tone laced with sarcasm.
I briefly explained what had happened.
Before he could react, I called the maid in from the doorway.
"I'm going to rest now. Suit yourself, Lord Sawyer," I said.
The maid, following my order, marched toward Bradley, her broad shoulders blocking his way.
Bradley had no choice but to retreat, step by step, all the way out the door.
The door slammed shut behind him.
He'd never been treated like this before, and he was so furious that he started yelling outside the door.
"Megyn Brook, how dare you treat me like this? Am I even your husband in your eyes?" Bradley shouted.
"Not at all," I replied, my voice cool and unbothered.
Suddenly, it was dead quiet outside the door.
The next day, Bradley came back yet again.
As soon as I laid eyes on him, my appetite vanished.
"I'm here to have breakfast with you. Go and get another chair," Bradley said.
He sounded so casual, like this was everyday business.
Seriously? He thought eating with me was some blessing for me.
The maids behind me kept their heads down. Not a single one bothered to listen to him.
Bradley's face soured at the sight, his lips tightening into a straight, hard line.
"Megyn Brook," he said through gritted teeth.
He clenched his jaw, practically grinding my name into dust with every word.
"Why don't you go and have breakfast with Chelsea? I don't want those dirty hands you used on her anywhere near my dishes."
My blunt words made Bradley's chest rise and fall.
But when he caught my amused gaze, he took a deep breath, trying his best to calm himself down.
"I misunderstood you yesterday. I'm sorry," Bradley muttered stiffly.
"Yeah, whatever. Just leave," I shot back, not bothering to hide my annoyance.
Seeing my indifferent attitude, Bradley fell silent for a while, then turned and started venting his frustration at the maids.
"Are you all blind? Looks like I've been too lenient with you. Now, you don't even remember who's in charge!" he snapped.
Then he barked at the servant by the door, "Go and get Mr. Hauser for me."
I sat quietly to the side, watching him act out his drama.
Someone arrived quickly.
"Why is it you?" Bradley raised an eyebrow in surprise when he saw Orlando Haley. "Where's Kurt Hauser?"
Orlando gave a polite bow. "Mr. Hauser fell ill a few days ago, so Lady Sawyer had me move from the kitchen to fill in for him."
"How's he doing now? Go and check on him today. If he's recovered, have him return to work," Bradley said.
Orlando gave Bradley a weird look.
"Didn't you know, Lord Sawyer? Mr. Hauser is quite old now. He retired and went back home two months ago," Orlando replied.
Bradley frowned, clearly taken aback.
Kurt had been in the estate since the old Marquis' days.
He watched Bradley grow up.
Bradley trusted him.
Bradley left everything in the estate to Kurt, big or small.
"Why didn't anyone tell me about something this important?" Bradley glared at me, irritated. His voice was sharp with accusation.
"Weren't you the one who told me not to bother Chelsea?" I shot back.
I shrugged, looking blameless, using his past words to shut him down.
Bradley was caught off guard, suddenly scanning the room in confusion.
Then, he realized that none of the maids looked familiar. They were all new faces.
Even the maid who'd stood up to him last night was a stranger.
"Where did your usual maids go?" Bradley asked, his voice tight with confusion.
"You mean Elise and Patti?" I tilted my head, pretending to think about it.