NovelEnglishThe Betrayed Heiress' Return to Elegance 169
Chapter 169 Nate Had Ties To The Ford Family
Nate approached Carl with measured steps, offering a slight nod. "Mr. Ford, | should have paid my respects
immediately upon returning to Lyhaton. Various matters. detained me-I trust you'll understand."
Carl managed a distant smile, his response carefully measured. "Mr. Hopkins, such formalities aren't necessary
between us."
His gaze dropped as he spoke, shielding the emotion in his eyes while his fingers absently traced the jewel
adorning his cane.
The butler materialized at precisely the right moment, gracefully handing Nate a cup of
coffee.
Quentin seized the momentary silence to inquire, "I wonder, Mr. Hopkins, have you encountered Moses
recently?"
Nate lifted his gaze deliberately. "Has Moses neglected to inform you of his business
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travels?"
Quentin faltered momentarily, stealing a reflexive glance at Carl. "He must have been pressed for time."
A subtle furrow creased Carl's brow at these words.
The timing seemed far too convenient. His instincts suggested Nate's deliberate
orchestration.
He studied the younger man intently, his weathered eyes betraying deep contemplation.
From his position in the seat of honor, Nate commanded attention even in repose, his crossed legs and perfect
posture radiating natural authority.
Carl observed this innate leadership quality with darkening thoughts-here sat
someone who would never submit to another's control.
"Given your company, we should take our leave," Carl announced, rising slowly.
"Why such haste?" Quentin protested. "The dinner hasn't even begun yet."
Nate set his cup down with deliberate grace, his cool voice cutting through the air. "Am | responsible for
dampening your spirits, Mr. Ford?"
An unsettling silence descended over the room.
Panic flickered across Quentin's features. "Mr. Hopkins, you misunderstand-your presence honors us greatly!"
This reaction was unexpected.
The onlookers might not have known Quentin inside and out, but they knew enough.
In all of Lyhaton, there were few who could command Quentin's respect. And yet, the way he carried himself
before Nate was more than just courteous-it was deferential.
Corrine narrowed her eyes slightly, her gaze shifting toward Quentin as if piecing together an invisible puzzle.
Carl, however, remained unfazed, his voice steady. "I'm not sure what you mean, Mr. Hopkins. | only worry that
our presence is disrupting your evening."
Nate's fingers toyed idly with the rim of his cup, his movements languid yet calculated. "The Ford family and |
share a bit of history, after all. Mr. Ford, your words seem rather
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detached.”
At this, Carl's brows knitted ever so slightly, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his gaze.
Corrine discreetly observed her grandfather.
Nate had ties to the Ford family?
Then why had her grandfather never spoken of it before?
More importantly, since the moment Nate had entered the room, Carl had been noticeably tense.
Just then, the butler leaned in and murmured to Quentin, "Sir, the banquet is ready."
Quentin gave a slight nod before rising to his feet. "Everyone, please let's continue this over dinner."
As the guests took their seats, a curious detail emerged. Whether by coincidence
or careful orchestration, one seat remained conspicuously empty-right beside Nate.
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Corrine's gaze instinctively lifted toward him.
With an air of quiet inevitability, Nate stood, pulling out the chair beside him. His deep, unwavering eyes met
hers as he spoke. "Miss Holland, please."
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