Operation Red Book

Chapter 206 Definition of Charity 1

The beautiful voice like the sky is melodious and moving, like mist, permeating every corner of the mansion.

In the endlessly winding quaint corridors, the roar of wind and rain is isolated by the hard mud tiles, and sadly becomes the background for opera and music.

Mrs. Emerson's room was on the third floor, down a dark passage.

Dark red carpet with gold patterns, moon-white rose wallpaper, off-white marble door frames, and the quiet, stuffy and oppressive feeling that comes from all around.

This was the second time Ivy came to Mrs. Emerson's room. A month ago, Ivy and Mr. Zhu were invited to the dance.

At that time, both of them had a good impression of each other, at least that's what Ivy thought.

At that time, Mrs. Emerson was deeply in pain from the loss of her daughter. Ivy's obedience and the blessing of camellia were exactly what she wanted.

Maternal love and kindness are intertwined, and the music of fate also sounds at that time.

But the situation now is very different. Ivy still remembers the look from a few hours ago, cold and disgusted, with class contempt, which was enough to make people shudder at the sight of it.

"After you, Miss Ivy, the lady is waiting inside."

There was no change in the furnishings in Mrs. Emerson's room. Perhaps because there were fewer people, Ivy felt an indescribable nervousness.

She felt like her heart was covered by a thin layer of ice, and no matter how hard it beat, it could not break free of the shackles.

It wasn't until she heard the sound of a lock closing behind her that Ivy realized she had walked into the center of the room.

"Thank you for your hard work in preparing the banquet, Miss Ivy."

Mrs. Emerson was leaning against the window, and Ivy could only see a red silhouette.

"I know you don't really want to help the children in Florence's orphanage."

Ivy's tone was harsh, she had meant to speak more gently.

"Ha ha ha!" Mrs. Emerson's shoulders twitched. "We British people wouldn't be so direct. It's really impolite."

"Haha... You can expose the gap between classes with just one sentence. You commoners always make people laugh."

Ivy clenched her fists, but when the words came to her lips, she found that she couldn't say anything.

"Why don't you reply? Isn't Miss Ivy very eloquent? She can even reply to Mrs. Goodwin's sharp tongue."

Mrs. Emerson turned slowly, her entire face hidden in the shadows.

Ivy pursed her lips, feeling a little tingling on her scalp.

The lady opposite had a smile on her lower face, but her upper face was as cold as a statue.

The strong atmosphere made Ivy tremble all over, but the words on her lips were still empty.

The nails were about to pierce into the palm of her hand. Ivy was trembling all over, using the pain to force herself to calm down.

She leaned her weight to one side, not letting go of every thought that popped into her mind.

"Archduke Eric Blount and the journalists he brought with him were invited by you, right?"

Mrs. Emerson did not respond. The expression on her face remained unchanged, but her pupils dilated for a moment.

Ivy captured this subtle moment keenly. The floor beneath her feet became a little harder, and the thoughts in her mind gradually came into line.

"It's such a big birthday party, but only a few guests accepted the invitation. I remember the last dance party was packed with people... Your position is really precarious."

"It's not even close to being in danger."

"McMillan Manor is in deep trouble. No one wants to come to your birthday party anyway, let alone the royal family." Ivy's voice became calm and composed.

"Queen Victoria was a wise monarch and she would not put herself in danger."

Mrs. Emerson's expression remained unchanged. Ivy didn't know if it was her illusion, but she felt that the air around the lady had become more solemn.

"The whole birthday party is a marketing campaign. Grand Duke Eric Brontz is your admirer. He would be happy to do anything for you."

"I have had countless suitors, but they are all incompetent cowards. The only one who has any connection with the royal family is Eric."

"I understand your desire to return to the upper class, but I do not approve of your exploitation of these children, and I do not agree with the lies you have told."

Ivy's words were powerful, and thinking carefully about what she heard in the tent, she found some clues.

“You will not continue to fund the rebuilding of Florence Orphanage, nor will you facilitate Grace’s release from prison.”

"Your name will surely be on the headlines of tomorrow's newspapers. The Florence Welfare Home will only appear at the beginning of the report, briefly, as a gimmick and background."

"Am I right? The patron saint of children - the Duchess of Emerson."

Mrs. Emerson still did not reply. She exhaled heavily and turned around slowly.

The window glass was covered with blurry water droplets, and it was pitch black outside the window. Nothing could be seen except the track of the flowing water.

"Let's go back to the first question. I'm sorry, I was a little rude because your remarks were really ridiculous."

The lady's voice was gentle and polite, but Ivy could hear it full of sarcasm and coldness.