Arianne guessed that Mark had rushed home because she had rebelled by sneaking out of the house until late night. She straightened her clothes and stepped in, prepared to take the storm head on.
When she entered, none of the servants in Tremont Estate were resting. Butler Henry, Mary, and the other servants were all standing in one line in the living room. Butler Henry looked at Arianne, then sighed and said nothing.
She took a deep breath and said, “It’s alright, I’ll explain it to him.”
“Sir isn’t in a good mood after drinking. You better take it easy...” Mary warned her.
Arianne smiled and went upstairs. The bedroom door was ajar. Mark Tremont sat on the chair in front of the French window with a cigarette lit between his fingers.
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