Marry My Billionaire Second Husband - Chapter 91

Chapter 91: Hawthorne Family Dinner I
The Hawthorne family dinner came sooner than expected. Just as Matteo promised, he had taken care of the logistics. Somehow, he had managed to procure yet another stunning evening gown in Amelia’s size, this time in a gentle shade of rose quartz, along with complimentary earrings to match her mother’s necklace.

“You look stunning,” Matteo said, barely able to keep the smile off his face as he held out an arm for Amelia to take.

He had spent the entire car ride over trying to work up the courage to compliment her, and now that it had left his lips, his shoulders finally relaxed seeing Amelia smile.

“Thank you,” she said. A small blush bloomed across her cheeks, barely covered by the thin layer of makeup she wore.

Amelia took his arm, and they stepped into the Hawthorne estate. This time, there was no one who dared to stop her. The servants emerged and bowed low to Matteo, and bowed even lower to Amelia.

The true princess was back, after all, and Horace Hawthorne had made sure that everyone present had been briefed on this.

“Amelia!”

Horace was the first to greet them, coming down from the winding staircase of the large estate. He had a walking stick in hand, but by the speed at which he quickly descended the stairs, it was evident that the stick was more for an accessory than for support.

He made his way over just as Amelia did, and when they met halfway, Horace warmly embraced her. Amelia’s entire body stiffened, but she allowed herself to be hugged, patting the old man’s back softly just so that it wouldn’t be too one-sided.

When Horace finally pulled away, he still smiled at her, gently holding onto her arms.

“I hope we’re not too late, Ho― Grandpa,” Amelia said, catching herself before the slip of tongue could fully emerge.

She was never going to get used to this.

For the longest time, all the family she had was her father and mother. Then, she had a husband, but Caleb Walton didn’t stay for long. Now that he was gone, she had an entire family and a new husband-to-be. If someone had told this to Amelia just years prior, she would’ve laughed straight in their faces.

“Not at all,” Horace said. “Dinner has just been prepared. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I had to ask Matteo here about your preferences. Hopefully, it’s to your liking.” There was a knowing glint in Horace’s eyes, and when he turned to greet Matteo, he simply nodded.

“Good evening, Mr. Hawthorne,” Matteo said, nodding his head as well.

Horace waved it off. “You will be family soon,” he said. “You may call me ‘Grandfather’ as well.”

“Very well, then, Grandfather,” Matteo said. Contrary to Amelia, he made the switch fairly easily.

“Isn’t it sweet?” Horace cooed to Amelia, turning to lead her to the dining hall while Matteo trailed behind them like a house pet. “Young Matteo here refused to call me ‘Grandfather’ for the longest time while he was engaged to Emmeline,” he said. “I finally understand why. It is good that he is so dedicated to you, Amelia.”

His gaze then darkened as he stared ahead for a short moment.

“Unlike that Walton boy.”

Amelia stilled at the mention of Caleb. She looked at Horace, but instead of the stormy gaze, he had already rectified his expression. He gestured to the seat right next to him at the head of the table. No one else was present yet, and the maids were still setting the dinner plates.

“Please have a seat,” Horace said, gesturing to his left. “Your aunt and uncle will be down shortly.”

Amelia nodded and made her way to the seat that Horace had gestured to. Matteo went ahead, helping to pull out her seat before sitting down himself. It didn’t take long before the rest of the Hawthornes arrived.

For the first time since the engagement party, Amelia’s gaze collided with that of Emmeline Hawthorne’s, her supposed younger cousin. She had arrived at the dining room hand-in-hand with her mother, dressed in a beautiful pale yellow knee-length dress. As she spoke with her mother, Emmeline wore a bright smile, and when she saw Matteo, that smile merely brightened.

“Matteo!” Emmeline gasped in surprise, quickening her steps to the dinner table, but the moment she turned her head and realized that Amelia was there, that smile instantly vanished.

“You are late,” Horace sternly said, his tone no longer as soft as when he was greeting Amelia and Matteo earlier.

“It’s just a family dinner, Dad,” Annalise said, waving the matter off with a shrug. Her eyes then fell onto Amelia. It was hard not to notice the way they scanned her up and down with contempt.

“It is Amelia’s first dinner with us,” Horace corrected. He then turned to Amelia and gestured to the three of them. “I believe you have already met. That is Annalise, Emmeline’s mother. Behind her is your uncle, Benjamin Hawthorne, Emmeline’s father.” His smile then turned a little sad. “My son, Elaine’s younger brother.”

Benjamin Hawthorne had an icy-cold look. He glanced silently at Amelia and briefly nodded his head, offering her no other form of acknowledgment. If it weren’t for the fact that Horace was here, Amelia doubted he would even give her the time of day.

Not that she cared.

However, just to be polite, she still nodded at the three people who looked like they would rather be anywhere but here.

“Come sit,” Horace instructed, clapping his hands together once before gesturing to the chairs. Benjamin dutifully followed his father’s instructions.

“Sit?” Annalise suddenly said as Benjamin took his usual seat at Horace’s right. “Where are we supposed to sit?”

She then made her way over to Amelia, tapping on the backrest of her chair callously.

“Get up,” she barked. “You’ve just returned to the Hawthorne family so there are rules that you might not know, but every member of the family has a designated spot. You, young miss, are in the wrong seat.”

With that said, she tugged hard, causing the legs of the chair to scrape against the polished wooden floors. Amelia lurched, her hand slamming hard on the table due to the sudden momentum, trying to steady herself while Matteo reached forward to hold her steady. Annalise, however, didn’t care.

“This is Emmeline’s seat,” Annalise continued, hissing. “Move.”