Cassandra Lynch's outstretched hand froze in mid-air, and her expression twisted for a moment.
Though it was only for an instant, it was still noticed by Arabella Donovan.
'Here we go, here we go. That expression, that look… I don't even have to think to know this scheming little protagonist is definitely cursing me out in her head right now. Let me guess what she's muttering about me. It's got to be the same old story: calling me a country bumpkin from the boonies who has no manners, doesn't know how to socialize, and isn't as elegant, graceful, noble, or poised as her.'
Arabella Donovan had barely finished her internal jeering when, in a corner on the other side of the room, Mrs. Donovan—hiding and pretending to be a customer—almost lost control and rushed over to beat someone up.
Seeing this, Mr. Donovan quickly pulled her back. "Calm down, calm down."
