Holding onto the railing, he awkwardly smiled and said, "Nicholas is here too, when did you arrive?"
Nicholas Croft's lips curved into a smirk, which on closer inspection, was a sneer.
If he hadn't heard it with his own ears, he wouldn't have believed that such a mother existed in the world, treating her own daughter as if she weren't her own. No wonder Beatrice Hargrave was sent abroad to study at such a young age.
His large hand still gripping Beatrice's wrist, he looked at the hypocritical woman on the stairs and slightly bent forward politely, saying, "Just arrived, Madam, sorry to intrude."
"Oh, it's nothing, come in, come in, don't just stand at the door," Josephine Hawthorne smiled as she walked down the stairs, and when she reached Henry Hargrave's side, she chided unhappily, "Grayson, you too, Nicholas is here, and you didn't even invite him to sit."
