Marry My Billionaire Second Husband - Chapter 258

Chapter 258: Hawthorne Ancestral Home
“Welcome back, Master Horace and Miss Kentwood,” the servants chorused as Horace and Amelia arrived at the mansion.

They wanted to help him to his rooms so that he could get some rest, but Horace Hawthorne refused. Amelia had finally paid a visit to what was technically her ancestral home, how could he want her to return so quickly just because he was tired?

Supported by his cane and Amelia’s arm, Horace eagerly took her on a tour around the mansion, while the servants hovered behind them cautiously, ready to fulfill Horace Hawthorne’s every request. Amelia felt vaguely like she was on the arm of an emperor, with rows of eunuchs and maids waiting at her beck and call.

“As you can see, the mansion has plenty of unused rooms. The servants usually stay in another compound on the premises,” Horace Hawthorne began to explain.

Amelia listened attentively as Horace spoke about the vast number of servants who worked for the Hawthorne family.

Apparently, the Hawthornes paid so well there were people who eagerly worked for them for their entire lives, raising their own families on the mansion grounds.

Amelia’s mind started to whirl. Old servants might know something about Annalise’s missing baby. Even if Annalise had given birth in a prestigious hospital, she would still need the help of servants from home to bring her necessities and look after her after labor.

Hell. Amelia wouldn’t be surprised if Annalise brought a bevy of servants to ensure she got to sleep while her baby cried.

“Are any of these old servants still working now?” Amelia asked. “They might know something about… Annalise.”

“If they do, they won’t be willing to speak yet,” Matteo said frankly, his voice lowered so as to not attract any undue attention. “She has been in the family for too long. They won’t want to risk upsetting her or losing their jobs when she’s still part of this family.”

Matteo had a point. But at least it was a good place to start looking for clues. Surely someone must have suspected something or heard that Benjamin Hawthorne had an affair somewhere.

Horace sighed. It turns out that his granddaughter was simply listening to him because she wanted to get clues to solve this mystery! Admittedly, it was also something that greatly puzzled Horace.

His son Benjamin had never mentioned any other women when he was younger. There was no rebellion, not in the way Elaine had turned the family upside down when she left for Michael Kentwood. He hadn’t protested against the marriage fervently― if anything, Horace recalled back then he merely seemed resigned.

Speaking of Elaine… He would get no better opportunity than this.

He cast a hopeful eye at Amelia. “Do you wish to see your mother’s room?”

“Can I?” Amelia replied, her eyes wide with hope. “Is it still… it’s been so long, I thought there wouldn’t be anything…”

Horace’s eyes grew watery as he gazed at her.

“I kept it as it was. I hoped… Well, it was foolish of me, but part of me still thought she might wander back here after she had enough of the outside world. If I threw out her things and changed her room, she might be upset enough to leave again.”

Amelia sniffled slightly, and they slowly made their way down the corridors. Eventually, they stopped in front of a room. Unlike the other rooms, the door was flanked by two large vases of pink camellia, highlighting its importance.

Horace sighed and touched one of the petals longingly. He had the flowers put up, hoping that his daughter would detect his feelings and return home, but it was too late.

“Grandpa?” Amelia asked hesitantly.

“Forgive an old man for his wandering thoughts, Amelia dear,” Horace said wryly. His daughter had not managed to return, but she sent the next best thing into his arms― her very own beloved daughter.

“Please, enter the room,” Horace said.

Amelia sucked in a breath and pushed open the door. It shifted easily, and the hinges of the huge oak door didn’t even make a single creak as they swung to reveal a room clothed in pastel shades, the pale yellow curtains fluttering in the night wind.

Her eyes roved over the room. There was a queen-sized bed with pale pink bedsheets and a fancy vanity that looked like it belonged in a set of a historical palace. The ceiling was littered with fairy lights that were still twinkling like stars in the night sky.

Suddenly, Amelia recalled her childhood bedroom. When she was a lot younger, her mother had put up stars that glowed in the dark, in a bid to help her feel more comfortable in the dark.

She sniffled, her heart aching. Was her mother afraid of the dark too, as a child?

Her eyes were then drawn to the walls, where countless posters were pasted all over like an artsy collage. She realized they were full of random posters of old famous celebrities and musicians.

Even when they were yellowed and peeling at the edges, Horace Hawthorne had not gotten people to tear them down.

“Your mother had a period of time where she loved chasing celebrities,” Horace said wistfully. “I couldn’t understand the appeal of all the boybands, but I indulged her anyway. I used to joke that as long as she didn’t end up marrying the lead singer of some sleazy band, she could do anything she liked.”

“And then it turns out she married your father instead.” Horace shook his head. “Does your father know how to sing?”

“Not well,” Amelia confessed. “Singing is not his skill set. But he’s very good at fixing things though! My mother loved it when he fixed up her lights.”

Horace seemed like he had an uncharitable thought hovering at the back of his throat, but he swallowed it down. No matter what, it was all water under the bridge.

“Can I take a closer look inside the room?” Amelia asked.

Horace nodded. “Of course. Since the hour is getting late, I’ll leave the two of you to it. Let me know when you leave the mansion?”

“Yes, Grandpa.” Amelia nodded, and they watched him leave. She then entered the room cautiously while Matteo closed the door behind him.

Amelia wandered around the room. The carpet under her feet was soft and plush, and she went to the vanity table to peer at it more carefully, opening the drawers only to find them empty.

“What are you looking for?” Matteo asked.

“I don’t know,” Amelia said wryly. “Something of hers that she didn’t bring with her when she eloped? Help me look.”

They rummaged through the drawers and cupboards together. There were plenty of old clothes and jewelry, eccentric statement pieces that Amelia would never have the guts to wear. However, what caught her eyes was an old safe tucked all the way at the bottom of the cupboards, covered by a plethora of dresses.

“What is this?”