Chapter 67 Clio Wants to Send Cressida to the Convent!
"What happened to him? Just spit it out already, damn it!" Patrick cursed angrily.
"Mr. Michael Hamilton was drinking at Wisteria Terrace. I was waiting for him downstairs. I saw Ms. Cressida Hamilton and Ms. Jessica Hamilton leave, but Mr. Michael Hamilton didn't come down. I thought it was strange, so I kept waiting. But then Wisteria Terrace closed for the night, and Mr. Michael Hamilton never showed up. He's disappeared!"
Dax knelt on the ground as he spoke, breaking out in a cold sweat.
Cressida looked down at Dax's guilty expression, a cold smile flashing in her eyes.
Dax must have been responsible for luring all the kitchen staff away last night. He thought he and Michael had worked together from inside and out to harm Cressida.
But Dax never expected that the person sitting here safe and sound would also be Cressida.
Clio rushed over like a madwoman and grabbed Cressida by the collar.
Clio roared and shrieked: "Where's Michael! Cressida, what did you do to him? Tell me! Why are you the only one who came back?"
Emma and Verity both rushed forward to intervene.
"Mrs. Hamilton, please let go!"
"Get away!" Clio violently tore at Cressida's clothes. "You ungrateful wretch! You cursed demon! Michael went out drinking with you and never came back. What did you do to him! Tell me!"
Patrick came over and yanked Clio away: "You foolish woman, have you lost your mind!"
Clio stumbled and fell, kneeling on the ground, sobbing.
"Mr. Hamilton, I dreamed last night that something happened to Michael. He's been gone for a whole day and night. Why won't you ask Cressida? Cressida was the last person with Michael."
Patrick turned to look at Cressida.
"Cressida, what really happened last night? Did you see Michael?"
"Yes, I did." Cressida calmly straightened her disheveled clothes.
Her tone was very calm: "Michael and I drank and talked happily. When things got lively, I got drunk."
"Liar!" Clio glared at her viciously. "You've always been cold to Michael. You would drink happily with him?"
Cressida looked at Clio: "Michael came to me with drinks to apologize, saying he'd been immature before. That's when I forgave him. Mother, shouldn't you be the happiest to see Michael and me getting along?"
Patrick asked: "What happened after that? You were drinking together, where did he go?"
Cressida pressed her temples, as if recalling.
"Then I went downstairs to the kitchen to get honey water for my hangover. When I came back, Michael was gone. After that, I felt so dizzy from drinking too much that Jessica took me home first. Ms. Woods can confirm this."
As Cressida spoke, her voice was steady and measured, making her convincing.
Clio gritted her teeth, her sleep-deprived eyes red and swollen, staring at Cressida as if she wanted to tear her apart.
"So you're admitting that you abandoned Michael and came back. He's missing now. If he got drunk and fell into the water, or was hurt by thieves, can you take responsibility for that!"
Patrick felt uneasy hearing Clio's hypothetical scenarios.
After all, Michael was Patrick's only son, Patrick's only heir. Nothing could happen to him.
"Cressida!" Patrick scolded. "This is indeed your carelessness. How could you leave Michael behind and come back alone?"
They ignored what Cressida said about feeling dizzy and unwell, only blaming her for not taking care of Michael.
"Father, Michael is eighteen years old and a Guard Office soldier. How was I supposed to know this would happen?"
"Cressida, you deserve to die. I should never have given birth to you! You hurt Rose, and now Michael is missing because of you. Mr. Hamilton, Cressida is uncontrollable. What are you waiting for? Send her to the convent to discipline her properly!"
Clio seized the opportunity to make her case.
Even Verity frowned at this.
In the Novaria region, there had always been a practice of nobles sending disgraced daughters to convents. Those girls who violated family honor or committed unforgivable mistakes mostly couldn't escape such a fate.
Once they stepped through the convent doors, they would spend the rest of their lives with scripture and prayer, never again touching any worldly pleasures.
Patrick frowned: "You're being too extreme. A small punishment would do. Just give Cressida a few strikes with the family rod, wouldn't that be enough?"
Clio clutched her chest. All the crying and fussing had damaged her health.
"If she's not dealt with for even one day, I can't stand to look at her."
"Mother, Michael got lost and you blame me. Rose made mistakes and you also blame me. Actually, you just never liked me from the start, right? If that's the case, you can leave Father and leave this house."
Everyone present was shocked. Clio even forgot to cry.
"What did you say?"
"I said, you can divorce Father. I'm Father's daughter, and more importantly, I'm General Hamilton's sister. If Father sends me to a convent, what reason could he give to convince His Majesty the King?"
Cressida looked at Patrick, who indeed hesitated.
Cressida smiled slightly: "I represent Cameron's honor, and I'm Father's daughter. This estate is my home. If you don't like it, then you should be the one to leave."
"Think carefully—you haven't really contributed anything to this family. You merely gave birth to a few children, but ask yourself, why couldn't Father's other women bear children? Mother, you should know better than I do."
"Cressida!" Clio seemed to be stabbed in her deepest secret, screaming hysterically. "Shut up! Mr. Hamilton, don't listen to her."
Patrick was somewhat startled: "Cressida, what do you mean by that?"
Clio quickly struggled to stand up and threw herself at Patrick's feet, kneeling.
"Mr. Hamilton, please don't listen to her. This is all her scheme to drive a wedge between us. This ungrateful child—not a word she says is true!"
"Get away!" Patrick kicked Clio aside. "Cressida, whatever you know, tell me everything!"
Cressida shook her head: "Father, I don't dare say. It's all my speculation. I'm afraid if I speak, I'll become the one who drove you and Mother apart."
Patrick urged anxiously: "I'm telling you to speak! I won't blame you! Speak now!"
Cressida's lips parted slightly, as if about to speak, but deliberately paused.
Cressida's eyes lowered, looking at Clio kneeling on the ground begging Patrick. A contemptuous cold smile bloomed in Cressida's eyes.
A mother who went crazy at Cressida, a mother who never treated Cressida as her own child—no matter how pathetic she looked, Cressida couldn't muster the slightest pity.
Just then, the butler Noah came in from outside.
"Mr. Hamilton..."
"Get out! Whatever it is, I don't have time for it now!" Patrick was very anxious.
Patrick only wanted to know what Cressida meant.
However, Noah, who usually obeyed orders, this time said with a difficult expression: "But Mr. Hamilton, people from the gambling house are here."
Patrick and Clio both froze: "What?"
Before long.
The people from the gambling house were brought into the main hall. Clio had already stopped crying and stood beside Patrick.
Cressida sat in a chair to the side, calmly drinking tea.
The gambling house owner Rhys came in, knelt on the ground and kowtowed to the grim-faced Patrick.
Then Rhys pulled out an IOU from his sleeve.
"Mr. Patrick Hamilton, sir, Mr. Michael Hamilton lost six thousand dollars at our gambling house, then borrowed forty thousand dollars from us to continue gambling. He now owes our gambling house forty-six thousand dollars."
Clio's body swayed violently, nearly fainting on the spot.