Chapter 26 The Dress Was Cut
Chapter 26 The Dress Was Cut
Chapter 26 The Dress Was Cut
The next day, Blanche woke up with a slight headache.
She looked down at the slippery blanket that had fallen from her body and realized that she was lying on a large, fluffy bed.
On the couch nearby, there were still unpacked quilts.
She was surprised to see that Louis had slept on the couch last night. Content held by NôvelDrama.Org.
But what had happened afterward?
She checked her phone and saw a message from Erin.
"Blanche, are you awake yet? Do you have a hangover?"
"Thank you for your help. From now on, I'll protect you with my life. You were so brave last night. I'm so touched."
Blanche poked her head and texted back. "How did I get back last night?"
"What, you don't remember? Louis carried you away."
Blanche rubbed her eyes, wondering if she had read the message correctly.
"He carried me to the car? Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I watched him carry you to the car. Your husband is so sweet. Blanche, I think he's quite good. In that environment yesterday, you stood up for me. If it were someone else, she might have left me to fend for myself."
Blanche shook her head, still unable to understand how Louis could have carried her to the car last night.
Then again, if he hadn't taken her away, she would have made a scene and disgraced him at that place.
She nodded to herself, realizing that he had made the right decision for the greater good.
After chatting with Erin, she had her breakfast.
Then she retouched the design of the magnolia brooch, sent it to the craftsman, and urged him to finish it as soon as possible.
She couldn't do it herself due to limited resources.
Then she started choosing a dress for the old lady's birthday party from the ones she had bought yesterday.
She finally settled on a mauve dress that was neither too plain nor too bright.
Unbeknownst to her, Allison was keeping an eye on her under the pretext of cleaning the corridor.
Seeing her choose a dress, the maid cursed under her breath.
"Tch, you're ugly, and you still bought such beautiful clothes. What a waste of resources!"
After choosing her dress, Blanche went to the bathroom to take a bath. She hadn't bathed the night before, and there was still an unpleasant smell on her body.
As soon as Blanche entered the bathroom, Allison pulled out a pair of scissors from her sleeve. She looked around before slipping into the bedroom and cutting up the beautiful dress.
Half an hour later, Blanche emerged from the bathroom feeling refreshed, but the sight of the broken dress made her freeze. She went over, picked it up, and stroked the cuts made by the scissors.
Who would be so bored as to cut up her dress?
Blanche went to the corridor, but it was empty. The maids in the hall downstairs were all busy cleaning. None of them seemed to have any motive for cutting up the dress.
Blanche turned around and went back inside.
Just then, Clara came upstairs to water the flowers in the bedroom. When she saw the ruined dress, she was distressed.
"How did this happen? How did this dress get cut up?"
Blanche thought of one possibility. "Who was cleaning around here just now?"
Clara thought back.
"It was Allison."
Allison.
Blanche searched her memory. Allison had served her a meal once. She was a middle-aged woman who looked shrewd.
It was probably her doing, but Blanche had no evidence. And why would Allison do such a thing?
"It must be her doing. I'll go get her up here," Clara said.
Blanche shook her head and pulled Clara back.
"Without proof, she won't admit it."
After Clara left in frustration, Blanche was feeling troubled.
Such a beautiful dress couldn't be thrown away before it had even been worn.
Then she noticed a spool of heavy golden thread on the table. An idea popped into her head. If she braided the thread into a flower and sewed it over the cut, it would cover up the damage.
Blanche immediately got to work.
However, because the fabric of the dress was very expensive, this task required great care and attention. By the time Louis returned in the evening, Blanche still hadn't finished.
From the doorway, Louis saw Blanche sitting at the table holding a ball of something purple.
As he approached, he realized that the dress had been torn. It caused his eyes to narrow in anger.
"You went out to buy a dress and came back with a shabby one. Who are you trying to disgrace?"
Louis' tone was harsh. No one in this house had ever had to mend their clothes before.
"It was fine when I bought it. Someone deliberately cut it up," Blanche responded without looking up.
Someone had deliberately cut her dress?
Louis glanced at it again and thought to himself. No one in his household would do something so underhanded.
Seeing him frown, Blanche knew he didn't believe her. In his mind, she was making a scene again. Instead of explaining further, she continued her work.
20 minutes later, Louis emerged from the bathroom and went to bed to rest. Blanche was still working.
When he woke up from his sleep, he found the lights in the room were off except for a lamp on the desk.
Was she still awake? She was energetic.
Louis looked at her with a complicated expression. From his angle, he could see her profile outlined in the warm yellow light. The bridge of her nose caught the light and sparkled. She looked like a farmer out of a painting.
He turned over and found that he couldn't sleep.
It must be because Blanche had left the light on. He got up and walked over to her, knocking on the desk with his finger.
"Turn off the light and go to sleep."
Blanche looked up, surprised to see him awake.
She had turned off the main light and switched on a lamp after he had fallen asleep so that he wouldn't be disturbed.
She looked down at the work still left in her hands.
She was almost finished. She had a habit of completing one task before moving on to the next.
"You go ahead and sleep. I'll be done soon," she said.
"How can I sleep with that light shining in my eyes?" he grumbled.