Chapter 137
Chapter 137:
When Wesley finally appeared, the sight that greeted him was quietly endearing. Gabriela was sitting close beside Miriam, their heads nearly touching, hands busy with needles and yarn, sharing gentle talk over the small, comforting details of daily life. The scene radiated quiet contentment. A faint smile tugged at Wesley’s lips, a wave of warmth and ease settling over him. After lingering for a moment longer, he retreated to his study and picked up his book again.
Gabriela, oblivious to his brief visit, kept her focus on the scarf in her hands. Her injured foot kept her mostly anchored to the couch, and the steady rhythm of knitting felt like a pleasant novelty. She spent much of the afternoon there, and by the time dinner rolled around, half the scarf was done. The design unfurled into a delicate pattern of branching leaves, refined enough to draw the eye whether examined up close or admired from a distance. Gabriela’s lips curved in quiet satisfaction.
A voice spoke from nearby, warm and matter-of-fact. “Your hands really are skillful p>
Thinking it was Miriam, Gabriela laughed lightly. “I actually find knitting a scarf easier than making mittens. Here, look p>
She turned, scarf in hand, and froze. Standing beside the couch was an old woman she didn’t recognize. The woman wore a neat, plain blouse, its simple lines immaculate. Her gray hair was neatly combed, and though time had etched fine lines into her face, hints of the beauty she once possessed still lingered in her features.
It took Gabriela a moment to recover before she asked politely, “Hello, ma’am. Who are you here to see p>
The visitor was none other than Wesley’s grandmother, Loretta. Loretta’s sharp gaze swept over Gabriela, taking in every detail. The young woman’s beauty was undeniable—exactly as Miriam had claimed. In looks, she could stand beside Wesley without drawing any complaints. Her character, though… that remained unclear for now.
Before Loretta could respond, several servants appeared, arms laden with oversized bags. They bowed slightly as one of them asked with deference—
“Where would you like these placed, madam p>
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“Set them in the backyard—find a spacious spot,” Loretta instructed briskly.
Once the orders were given, she pivoted back to Gabriela, her tone abrupt. “Your name p>
Though the old woman’s manner held little warmth, Gabriela kept her poise and answered with quiet courtesy, “Gabriela Haynes p>
“What do you do? How are you connected to my grandson? And what brings you here p>
Gabriela caught on immediately—this had to be Wesley’s grandmother—and answered with a polite smile, “I’m Mr. Moss’s personal secretary. I’ve injured my foot p>
Loretta cut her off. “So, a secretary p>
Her mind went straight to what Wesley had once mentioned about a young woman Fiona had trampled over. Recently, Fiona had been quietly using a fortune-teller to feed Loretta the belief that she was the perfect match for Wesley. To Loretta, that notion still held firm—Fiona was, in her eyes, a woman blessed by fate and destined to be with Wesley.
When Miriam phoned to announce that Wesley had brought a girlfriend home, Loretta’s first response was a flash of disapproval. In her eyes, it was hardly proper for a young woman to stay at a man’s house before marriage. Finding out that Gabriela was Wesley’s secretary only intensified her hostility.
Her gaze swept over Gabriela with quiet scrutiny. Gabriela’s face was small and exquisitely proportioned, every delicate line of her bone structure lending her an elegance that would hold its beauty for years. Large, luminous eyes tilted upward at the corners beneath finely arched double lids, their warmth offset by a slender, well-shaped nose. The combination gave her an air both innocent and faintly alluring.
Despite her reservations about Gabriela, Loretta murmured, “You really are beautiful.” Fiona had beauty, but Gabriela outshone her.
Gabriela, unable to hear those quiet words, tilted her head politely. “Pardon me, madam—what did you say p>
Loretta blinked as if roused from a daze, then curtly said, “Come with me.” Setting aside her half-finished scarf, Gabriela rose and followed.
Loretta’s stride was quick and sure, the product of decades of farm work that kept her spry even in her later years. Gabriela, slowed by her aching foot, lagged several paces behind.
Unaware of Gabriela’s injury, Loretta mistook the lag for frailty. Her disapproval settled even deeper.