Chapter 135 Cressida Rebukes Clio
Rain fell like a woven curtain, the night thick and heavy.
Clio and Rose hurried through the corridor, Clio stumbling in panic, practically being half-carried, half-dragged forward by Rose.
Clio kept urging, "Faster, go faster! We can't let Brynn get to the authorities first!"
But just as they reached the back gate, both stopped dead in their tracks.
Several dark figures stood silently blocking the doorway, servants holding long sticks, barring their way.
Maids held up lanterns, their dim yellow light illuminating the slanting rain and revealing the figure standing at the front.
Cressida stepped slowly out of the shadows, her oiled paper umbrella tilted slightly, showing first her sharply defined jawline, then her red lips.
As the umbrella lifted completely, Cressida's eyes, came into full view.
Her face was handsome and cold, the candlelight unable to soften it even slightly.
"Mother, Rose, where are you going so late at night?"
The sound of rain made the silence around them even more deathly.
The lantern light cast flickering shadows on her face. Clio's whole body trembled, her fingertips digging hard into Rose's arm.
Rose's face turned pale as she stepped back half a pace.
Coming to her senses, Clio shrieked, "Cressida! You cursed child! You jinx! You deliberately set up Michael. Those officers were all part of your trick. Just wait—tomorrow Mr. Patrick Hamilton will know about your evil scheme, and he'll kill you!"
Cressida sneered.
"I set him up? Was Michael deliberately trying to kill Mabel fake then?"
"Don't forget, Mother, it was you just now who forced Brynn to go to the authorities and confess."
"Let me tell you, Michael's crime can't be washed away or escaped this time. Go back to your room and stop wasting your energy."
As soon as Cressida finished speaking, Clio lunged at her like a madwoman.
"You cursed child! I'll kill you!" Her voice was sharp and piercing. "Michael is the Hamilton family heir! What are you?"
She rushed forward with claws out, her nails aimed viciously at Cressida's face, wanting nothing more than to tear apart this face she hated.
But—
Cressida's eyes turned cold. Without moving her body, she simply raised her hand and caught Clio's wrist like an iron clamp.
"Without me, Michael, you, and everyone else in The Hamilton Mansion are all useless. How could any of you deserve this noble title?"
The next instant, she pushed, and Clio fell heavily to her knees, muddy water splashing all over her in complete humiliation.
Cressida looked down at her from above, her eyes holding no trace of pity, only cold mockery.
"Mother, if you keep making a scene, tomorrow all of Emerald City will know that the Hamilton family's Mrs. Clio Hamilton went crazy in public trying to protect the murderer Michael."
"Guess what—will Father kill me first, or will he divorce you first to protect his own reputation?"
Clio's voice shook. "You, you..."
Her face twisted with rage, her hair already disheveled, wet strands stuck to her face, making her look even more deranged.
Cressida's eyes were sharp as she looked at the now-frozen Rose.
"Take her back to her room. Don't make me say it twice."
Rose jumped in fright and quickly grabbed Clio. "Mother, let's go."
Clio was still cursing, "Cressida, you jinx, you killed Cameron when you were born, and now you want to kill Michael too."
Soon, Rose and Nanny dragged and pulled Clio away.
As Cressida walked back, she gave cold instructions: "Tell Noah to have people watch everyone in the manor closely these next few days. Don't let any of them send messages out begging for help. If anyone's caught reporting out, tie them up in the woodshed first."
Emma held an umbrella for her. "Yes."
In the dark, damp cell, Michael's fists pounded on the wooden bars with loud bangs.
"Let me out! I've told you so many times, I didn't try to murder Mabel! I just saw someone burying gold in the back hills and followed from far away. I didn't even see their face clearly! Why are you holding me?"
The patrolling officer didn't even bother to lift his eyelids, walking straight past his cell door.
Michael flew into a rage and kicked the cell door hard. "You damn bastards! When my father comes, I'll make you all kneel and apologize to me!"
Just as he was cursing, steady footsteps came from outside the cell.
The head officer Ronin approached, the dim lamplight reflecting his stern face.
"Mr. Michael Hamilton, stop wasting your energy," Ronin's voice was severe. "Mrs. Brynn Hamilton just came to the authorities to turn herself in. She said she saw you with her own eyes running out of Mrs. Mabel Hamilton's room in the middle of the night. She even described exactly what you were wearing that night."
Michael's face changed drastically. "That's nonsense! Brynn's framing me!"
Ronin's tone was sharp: "Your parents sent her to confess for you! Mr. Michael Hamilton, you did such a heartless thing, your parents are hoping you'll repent, and you still won't confess? You might get a lighter sentence if you do."
The cell fell silent as death.
Michael staggered backward, his back hitting the wall hard.
His lips trembling, he suddenly let out a howl like a cornered beast: "Impossible! My mother would never harm me. I want to see my mother, I want to see my mother!!"
Ronin said coldly, "Don't worry, we'll send people to The Hamilton Mansion tomorrow morning. Just wait."
The next day.
The rain had stopped, revealing clear skies.
But Patrick was burning up all over—he'd caught a cold from the shock and exposure to wind.
When he woke, it was past noon, and Cressida sat by his bedside.
"Cressida..." His voice was hoarse and weak. "What happened with Michael? Has the authorities sent word back? Will they go easy on him?"
Cressida shook her head gently.
Patrick immediately tried to get up. "I'll go beg Yves, or if not, Charlie, or Tyler!"
"Father, lie down first. The doctor said you're suffering from anxiety attacking your heart, plus evil wind entering your body. The illness came on strong and could easily make you seriously ill."
Hearing his condition was poor, Patrick obediently lay back down.
Cressida said, "I shouldn't trouble you with these matters, but Father, you're the head of the family. I have to tell you some things clearly."
Patrick had a bad feeling. "Go ahead."
"While you were sleeping, people from the Guard Office came. The three days are up, and they want Michael to return the official robe."
"But we can't find it, right? Just explain it to them properly. Now that Michael's in jail, wait a bit longer..."
Cressida shook her head and interrupted. "I tied up Michael's servant and questioned him. I found out that Michael went to dig for gold in the back hills because he'd pawned the official robe to the bank for money to pay his debts. If this gets out, our whole family will be punished."
"What! Pawned the official robe?" Patrick immediately sat halfway up.
He seemed unable to believe it, his eyes wide, veins bulging.
"That rebellious son, how dare he, how dare he..." Before he could finish, he coughed up blood.