Chapter 60 Go Ahead, Jump
Water splashed everywhere.
Then the flames were extinguished, and she went still, leaving only scraps of fabric floating on the water's surface.
The garden was filled with the smell of burning and water vapor.
Emma finished the last piece of meat on her plate.
The show was over.
She clapped her hands in satisfaction and wiped the corner of her mouth with her napkin.
Nicholas watched her contented expression, his eyes complex.
She always got her revenge, and she did it so decisively, with such unexpected methods.
Interesting!
The butler had already directed two male servants to frantically fish Victoria out of the fountain.
Victoria was soaked through, her dress burnt away leaving only her underwear, her hair and eyebrows singed, with multiple burn marks on her legs. She looked utterly wretched, collapsed on the ground shivering, her eyes unfocused—clearly traumatized.
Emma looked down at Victoria sprawled on the ground like a drowned rat.
Her voice was gentle, tinged with apology.
"Sorry about that, Victoria. I was just playing a little prank on you."
"Are you okay?"
Victoria's head snapped up, her vacant stare instantly filled with rage and terror!
She glared at Emma with murderous intent, as if she wanted to tear her apart!
"Emma! You did that on purpose!"
She screamed with all her strength, her voice shrill and piercing!
"It was deliberate! You tried to burn me alive!"
She turned to Nicholas, crying and accusing, "Nicholas! She tried to murder me! She wanted to kill me!"
Murder! The word hit Nicholas like a needle, striking something deep inside him.
His previously complex expression instantly turned cold.
Compared to Emma nearly dying from falling off a horse or drowning in the river—a genuine life-or-death situation!
Victoria's superficial injuries from a little prank, and she dared to cry murder?
Nicholas's voice held no warmth whatsoever.
"Butler."
"Mr. Harrison." The butler immediately bowed.
"Send her back to Harrison Manor." Nicholas's tone brooked no argument. "She's confined to the estate for six months."
"Without my permission, she's never to set foot on this property again."
Victoria's eyes widened in disbelief, forgetting even to cry. "Nicholas! You can't do this to me! She tried to hurt me! Nicholas!"
The butler had already received his orders, "Yes, Mr. Harrison."
He gestured to the two male servants, who stepped forward to lift the still-struggling, wailing Victoria.
"Let go of me! Release me! Nicholas! I'm your family! Nicholas!"
Victoria's cries grew more distant as the butler efficiently dragged her away.
That night, Emma slept particularly well.
The next morning, Emma tentatively moved her ankle—it didn't hurt as much anymore.
She slowly got out of bed and took a few steps.
Good, the recovery was going well.
After finishing breakfast with nothing else to do, Emma wanted to get some fresh air.
She pushed open her door, planning to take a walk nearby. The sunlight was perfect, and the air was fresh.
She'd only walked a few steps when the faint sound of music drifted over.
Hmm? What was that sound?
It was a distinctive melody, somewhat ethereal, yet carrying an indescribable feeling.
Curious, she followed the sound, which was coming from another direction on the estate.
"Ah!"
She screamed in fright, her heart nearly jumping out of her throat.
Looking up, she met Nicholas's expressionless face. "Nicholas! What are you doing! Put me down!"
Emma struggled with hands and feet, her fists pounding on his shoulders.
Was this guy made of stone? He felt pretty solid when she hit him.
Nicholas ignored her, carrying her with long strides, his pace steady.
"Stop squirming." His tone was flat, emotionless.
"I can walk by myself!" Emma fumed.
Nicholas didn't stop, directly placing her into the passenger seat of a nearby golf cart.
His movements weren't particularly gentle—Emma was nearly shoved in.
"Are you done yet?" She straightened her clothes, glaring at him.
Nicholas climbed in himself, sitting right beside her. The space was small, their arms almost touching, so Emma quietly scooted away.
The cart slowly started moving!
"Where are you taking me?" Emma turned to ask him.
Nicholas said nothing, looking ahead, his profile stern.
"Nicholas, if you don't answer me, I'm jumping out!" she threatened.
Though the cart wasn't moving fast, jumping out would probably still result in a tumble.
Nicholas finally reacted.
He turned to look at her. That gaze held no warmth, no emotion—just calm observation.
His eyes seemed to say, 'If you can, go ahead and jump.'
Emma was speechless as she thought to herself, 'Fine, you win.'
She turned back around, huffing as she watched the path ahead.
Soon, the cart stopped in front of a vegetable garden.
Not far away came intermittent guitar sounds, accompanied by an elderly, raspy male voice humming.
Thin smoke curled from the cottage chimney, drifting and dispersing.
An elderly woman carried two bowls of vegetables, walking slowly to place them on a small square table in the center of the yard.
The green vegetable plots were meticulously maintained, with various crops looking vibrant and healthy.
Small shelters nearby housed rabbits, pigeons, and cats, their sounds mingling together in a pleasant cacophony.
Emma stood there, taking in the scene.
It was so familiar.This sight crashed open the floodgates of memory.
She too had once lived like this for two years, tending farmland, keeping two elderly people company.
Rising with the sun, resting at sunset.
Only those two elderly people were no longer here.
The singing continued, carrying the weathering of years, occasionally interrupted by suppressed coughing.
Emma's nose tingled, her eyes quickly reddening.
The elderly man singing noticed them and stopped strumming, also stopping his humming.
He set down the old guitar, carefully standing up as the elderly woman walked over.
"Mr. Harrison, Mrs. Harrison, good morning!" Jeffrey Baker's voice was noticeably hoarse.
The elderly woman's face bore a simple smile, her eyes gentle. "We just finished making breakfast—if you don't mind, would you like to join us?"
Emma shook her head gently, her voice somewhat low. "Thank you, but that's not necessary."
She paused, her gaze moving to the active little animals.
"May I... may I feed the rabbits?"
The elderly woman immediately smiled. "Of course! They love carrots most of all."
She turned and quickly walked back to the house, soon returning with a small basket filled with cut carrot sticks.
"Here, take this."
Emma picked up a carrot stick and offered it to the boldest white rabbit.
The rabbit came over, its little three-part mouth quickly nibbling away.
She picked up another stick, feeding it to a gray rabbit, her movements slow and careful.
The surroundings were quiet, filled only with the sound of rabbits chewing and distant rustling from the other animals in their shelters.
As she fed the rabbits, not looking up, she suddenly spoke.
"Jeffrey is..."
Her voice was soft, uncertain yet somehow knowing.
But she had truly seen it!
She'd seen the barely perceptible slowness when the old man stood up, seen his sallow complexion, heard the weakness in his singing that couldn't be disguised and those few coughs—this wasn't ordinary aging.
Nicholas didn't hide it, his voice calm.
"Jeffrey is the butler's father."
"Liver cancer. Final stage."