Chapter 20
Cherry and I got into the car without much thought, moving mechanically
Ironically, the driver complete with a pair of white gloves seemed far more at ease. He was also friendly, chatting with us briefly and encouraging us to relax.
We had been on the main road for about an hour when the car turned onto a path concealed by verdant woods. “We’re almost at Beaumont now,” the driver announced.
We soon reached an entry point guarded by soldiers carrying actual guns.
One of them signaled the driver to stop, prompting him to show his documents.
Only after that were we allowed to proceed.
Cherry looked bewildered. “Are we… in some sort of military base?!”
I was just as shocked, but I managed to keep it to myself.
“Ah, the top approved this procedure, ma’am.
“Since the head of the Kenway family retired and now resides in Beaumont, every vehicle entering or leaving is strictly monitored.
“Family members only need to show their ID, but any guest or unaffiliated vehicle undergoes much more thorough scrutiny,” the driver explained.
Cherry and I exchanged glances. So, that was why Charles had insisted on arranging transportation for us and why the residence didn’t appear on GPS.
This entire compound was treated like a matter of national security.
I didn’t know the Kenways well. My only close encounter had been with “Mr. S. Kenway,” who had appeared unexpectedly at the wedding.
This experience, however, made me both respect and fear the enigmatic family even more.
I touched the handkerchief in my pocket–the one S. Kenway had left behind. I’d brought it specifically for this visit, hoping to return it to its owner if I saw him.
The car finally pulled into the confines of a stunning estate. A man was already waiting for us.
“He is Charles, the butler,” the driver informed us. “Please follow him.”
I thanked the driver as Cherry and I stepped out of the car.
“Happy to see you, Miss Taylor Jones!” Charles greeted me warmly.
“Honored to be here,” I replied.
“Please, follow me. Madame Lisbeth and the other ladies are already waiting,” he said, gesturing for us to proceed.
We followed him.
The estate was more than picturesque–it was exquisite.
The meticulously trimmed garden was bursting with curated blooms arranged in geometric patterns.
A stately clock tower loomed over the grounds, and we passed a gorgeous gazebo that looked as comfortable as
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Chapter 201
any luxury suite money could buy.
The Kenways‘ aesthetic taste was deeply rooted in classic aristocratic sensibilities, but it wasn’t a cheap imitation. Their lineage truly spanned centuries.
After several minutes–just when it seemed we had arrived–Charles ushered us into a motorized buggy.
Yes, the estate was so expansive that one could easily get lost and actually needed a buggy to navigate it.
Finally, we reached a classically designed pavilion. Charles led us inside.
As we walked, laughter and cheerful voices grew louder, though the source of the commotion remained out of sight.
Then, at last, we entered a grand hall.
“Ma’am, Miss Jones and Miss Birkin have arrived,” Charles announced, his voice cutting through the sudden silence.
An older woman, draped in an elegant green gown, rose to greet us. Her face bore the marks of age, yet her skin was radiant and smooth, hinting at a temperament of grace and calm.
Her features suggested that she had been stunningly beautiful in her youth–almost as if her current appearance offered a glimpse into that time.
Strangely, she looked familiar. I couldn’t place it, but I felt as though we had met before.
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