Nia Mitchell awkwardly scratched her head, not daring to look at Maxwell Peary’s current expression.
"What do you an?"
Seeing her continued hesitation, Maxwell Peary finally asked.
Nia Mitchell gave a nervous laugh and then took two steps back.
"I accidentally fell this afternoon, and then..."
She offered a brief explanation, and after speaking, she carefully observed Maxwell Peary’s reaction.
Maxwell Peary’s expression at this mont could only be described as ashen.
"Why didn’t you say so sooner!"
Veins throbbed on Maxwell Peary’s forehead. What on earth was that foolish thing I just did? And why did I have to say it so ambiguously, causing such a misunderstanding!?
"I didn’t know you’d misunderstand either," Nia Mitchell defended herself, her face red.
Maxwell Peary heaved a deep sigh. He was truly at a loss with her.
"I’m going out to get sothing to eat. Co with ."
Not giving her a chance to refuse, Maxwell Peary took her small hand and led her downstairs.
Nia Mitchell had initially been sulking a little, but she realized she hadn’t explained things clearly earlier, so she felt a twinge of guilt.
She had no idea who he had been calling.
"Young Master."
Frederick, the butler, saw Maxwell Peary leading Nia Mitchell downstairs by the hand and ntally gave a huge thumbs-up.
Who would have thought! Unbelievable!
Young Master Peary, who was usually stone-faced, inarticulate, and rarely interacted with others, actually had this kind of skill!
He had been downstairs worrying just monts ago. The young couple had clearly been having a tiff. After the Young Master carried her upstairs, who knew what kind of earth-shattering drama might unfold?
The last ti the Young Master was angry, he’d apparently stord off in his car.
And the next day, Lady Peary had been there with her suitcase...
He simply couldn’t bear to imagine that scene again.
Who would have expected that this ti, after one went upstairs pouting and the other with a grim face, they would co down hand in hand?
And... it hadn’t even been ten minutes!
The Young Master was getting more and more impressive. And just like that, the great Young Master Peary had unknowingly gained another little admirer.
"Tell the kitchen to prepare a plate of pasta and send over a fruit platter."
Maxwell Peary gave a few instructions to Frederick, the butler, then led Nia Mitchell to a seat in the Dining Hall.
"I’m not hungry."
All the way there, Nia Mitchell kept repeating that sa sentence.
He was the one throwing a tantrum and refusing to eat. Why did I have to co down and eat with him too?
"No one’s forcing you to eat," Maxwell Peary said, though he knew perfectly well that as soon as the fruit platter arrived, she would eat more enthusiastically than anyone.
The butler was exceptionally astute. Young Master Peary rarely ate fruit, so this fruit platter had to be for Nia Mitchell.
So he imdiately instructed the kitchen to fill the platter with fruits Lady Peary enjoyed, and to add a small selection of others he wasn’t sure if Nia Mitchell would like.
If Lady Peary finished all those fruits, wouldn’t that an she liked them? Then they could include more of them next ti.
The fruit platter was prepared more quickly than the pasta, and soon a servant brought it over.
"Really not eating?"
Maxwell Peary raised an eyebrow, watching Nia Mitchell stare at the strawberries on top without making a move.
"Who said I wasn’t eating?"
Nia Mitchell reached out directly, picked up a strawberry, and popped it into her mouth, a look of pure satisfaction on her face.
Now happy, her courage grew.
"Uncle, tonight at the Madgar Pavilion, what did you, Evelyn Peary, and Yancy Hastings talk about when you stepped out? Why did you look so upset when you ca back, and why did you leave so abruptly?"
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