Chapter 164 All Drank from the Same Silly Juice
Her smile was a gentle curve as she began, "I would never dare to claim the title of Mrs. Mitchell before my marriage to Alex. Such a presumption would be quite out of place, especially considering Ava's current claim to that title. I am well aware of this."
"Are you?" Scarlett dabbed delicately at her lips with a napkin before placing it at the table's edge. "Miss Harrington, you truly are a paragon of sophistication, displaying such understanding for the rightful wife."
Isabella was no fool. She detected the undercurrent of derision in Scarlett's words. Nevertheless, she was compelled to maintain her facade, her smile straining against the muscles of her face.
It was evident that this family bore no love for her, and she understood that her attempts to win them over were in vain. Her primary concern was to hold fast to Alex; the rest were inconsequential. The matriarch's days were surely numbered given her advanced age.
How could they be so blind? Was there something amiss with the collective intellect of the Mitchell family? Had they all partaken of the same cup of folly? Their recognition seemed to extend only to the unfortunate Ava.
Alex was the sole beacon of sanity amidst the Mitchell clan.
At that moment, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from outside.
"Isabella."
All eyes turned as Alexander made his entrance.
His appearance suggested haste, his face etched with urgency.
"Alex, you're here. I don't recall summoning you," Scarlett said, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"Grandma, why have you called Isabella here?"
Despite his evident hurry, Alexander's tone remained respectful towards Scarlett.
"Miss Harrington, did you inform Alex?" Scarlett's gaze shifted to Isabella.
Isabella responded with a strained smile. "Madam, was I not supposed to inform Alex? I apologize. I was unaware. When you called, I was so elated that I informed Alex of your dinner invitation. I assumed it was an arrangement he had made. I truly didn't know."
She lowered her gaze, the very image of innocence, as tears threatened to spill from her eyes.
As expected, whenever Isabella adopted such a demeanor, Alexander would rush to her defense.
Alexander pulled up a chair next to Isabella, casting a glance towards Ava, whose expression was one of detached indifference.
"Grandma, this has nothing to do with Isabella," he interjected. "She genuinely believed it was my arrangement—she mentioned it in passing, without any intention of divulging secrets."
"Look at you, leaping to her defense," Scarlett chuckled. "I’m not accusing her, so why the haste? And why did you rush over here—worried that your grandmother and parents were conspiring against her?"
"What exactly did you want from her? And why was I not informed?"
Although Alexander didn't voice his suspicions, his expression clearly indicated his belief that they were all plotting against Isabella.
Scarlett’s smile faded, her face adopting a stern countenance. "I merely wished to pose a few questions to her. There are matters that require clarification, and I hoped Miss Harrington could provide some insight. As for involving your parents, I wanted witnesses so that we could all be on the same page."
Ava, sensing the matriarch's intent, was about to interject when Scarlett gently interrupted, "Ava, continue eating, dear. This matter doesn’t concern you."
Ava knew better than to question the matriarch's decisions.
Alexander's brow furrowed. "Grandma, why not ask me directly?"
"Even if I did ask you, wouldn't the information ultimately originate from Isabella? I prefer to seek the truth directly from the source."
"What's this all about, Mom?" George inquired, his curiosity piqued.
Isabella mustered a polite smile. "I'm uncertain as to what the matriarch wishes to inquire about, but I'll certainly share what I know."
"Good, I'll hold you to that," Scarlett responded, leaning back in her chair. "Miss Harrington, I understand you had a lung transplant and your health has been somewhat compromised."
