Chapter 127

"Yes, absolutely she is!" Cassandra responded with saccharine sweetness, her pulse racing wildly.

'Oh heavens! Nathaniel actually spoke to me! That deep, velvety voice could melt glaciers... But damn it all, he only acknowledged me to ask about Evelyn!'

At Cassandra's confirmation, Nathaniel's expression darkened instantly. His stormy gaze locked onto Evelyn with unmistakable displeasure.

Dominic swiveled in his chair, eyeing his longtime friend with amused curiosity. Though unaware of the couple's complicated history, he never missed a chance to tease Nathaniel's wife. A mischievous grin spread across his face. "Tell me, darling, do you possess the art of tea ceremony?"

Evelyn kept her eyes downcast as she shook her head.

Cassandra's perfectly plucked eyebrows knitted together, irritation bubbling beneath her polished exterior. "Mister Prescott," she interjected with forced cheer, "my assistant comes from rural origins. Just look at her dreadful attire - she clearly lacks refinement for such cultured pursuits as specialty tea preparation!"

Dominic waved a dismissive hand. "All the better! We're thoroughly bored with professionals. A novice's attempt would be delightfully entertaining."

Cassandra blinked in confusion. She'd deliberately dressed Evelyn in the most unflattering outfit possible, with garish makeup to match. What possible allure could these elite men see in her?

With Dominic's insistence, Cassandra had no recourse. She turned to Evelyn with a venomous smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Well? Don't just stand there gaping when Mister Prescott shows you such consideration. Get up there and make yourself useful!"

Though reluctant, Evelyn had little choice. With quiet resignation, she approached the tea station as the professional brewer stepped aside. She knew exactly what game Dominic was playing - this was deliberate humiliation disguised as opportunity.

Her movements were precise as she prepared the tea with surprising competence, pouring four perfect servings without once meeting anyone's gaze. The first cup she presented to Nathaniel, who occupied the central position.

Just as the porcelain neared the table, Nathaniel's large hand intercepted hers. What appeared as a polite gesture to accept the cup became a silent battle - his calloused fingers pressing insistently against hers on the delicate china.

"Look at me." His command was deceptively calm, carrying an edge of steel.

Evelyn refused to comply, attempting to withdraw her hand from the teacup's imprisonment.

The last thing she wanted was Cassandra discovering their connection. Already, she could see the dawning suspicion in her stepsister's eyes as Nathaniel's intense focus on Evelyn became impossible to ignore.

Cassandra's voice cut through the tension. "Mister Grayson, why are you staring at my assistant so intently? Do you two know each other?"

Nathaniel's gaze never wavered from Evelyn as he parted his lips to respond.