Chapter 190
Thornfield Manor was two miles away. With no other options, she
began to walk. The gravel crunched beneath her worn shoes, the cool air biting at her skin as her pace slowed to a weary trudge.
By the time she reached the familiar gates of Thornfield’s sprawling
grounds, her body ached with exhaustion. Her muscles burned, her
head throbbed, and a feverish chill settled deep in her bones. She
paused for a moment, leaning against the gate to catch her breath.
The sight of the grand manor–its tall windows glowing faintly in the early evening light–brought a fleeting sense of relief, but it was
quickly overshadowed by dread.
Her room was waiting for her, warm and inviting, but she knew it was only a temporary refuge. Graham Lancaster was inside, and with him came the inevitability she couldn’t face.
The future loomed before her, uncertain and terrifying. For now, all she could do was put one foot in front of the other, step through the doors, and find a place to breathe. But deep down, she knew: she was delaying the inevitable.
As Isla approached the grand front steps of Thornfield Manor, she paused to steady herself. The familiar sight of the towering doors,
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framed by ivy and lit softly by the evening glow, should have brought comfort. Instead, it only made her chest tighten with dread.
But comfort wasn’t waiting for her..
Standing tall and imposing on the front steps was Graham Lancaster himself. His dark suit still impeccable despite the long day, his broad shoulders squared, and his piercing gaze locked onto her like a predator spotting its prey. His expression was a storm of restrained fury, and for a moment, Isla froze under the weight of his glare.
Beside him stood Edwin, their ever–faithful driver, though his usual calm demeanor had been replaced by an unmistakable air of worry. His eyes darted between Graham and Isla, his face pale and tight with
concern.
“What… what’s wrong?” Isla asked hesitantly, her voice trembling. She felt small, fragile, and utterly unprepared for whatever storm she
had walked into.
Graham’s lips pressed into a thin line before he spoke, his voice sharp and cutting, like a blade slicing through the cold air.
“You,” he said, his words laced with a simmering anger.
what’s wrong.”
“You are
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Isla blinked, taken aback. Before she could respond, his words came
crashing down like thunder.
“Do you have any idea how long we’ve been looking for you?” he
demanded, his tone rising as his frustration spilled over. “For the last
hour, we’ve been combing the church grounds, calling every contact
we could think of, terrified something had happened to you!”
The sheer force of his anger reverberated through the quiet evening,
the sound echoing across the grounds. Isla’s chest tightened as his
words struck her like a physical blow. She opened her mouth to
explain, to say something, anything, but the lump in her throat
silenced her.
Graham’s dark eyes burned with intensity as he took a step forward,
his tall frame towering over her. “Maggie is inside, inconsolable,” he
continued, his voice biting with an edge of accusation. “She thought
you had thrown yourself into Silverveil Creek in a fit of grief!”
The mention of Maggie–their kind–hearted housekeeper who had
been like a mother to her–pierced through Isla’s daze. Her stomach
churned with guilt, and she took a shaky step back, her hands
instinctively clutching her arms.
“I… I didn’t…” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
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“You didn’t what?” Graham snapped, his gaze narrowing. “Think?
Care? Consider what it would do to the people who actually give a
damn about you?”
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