Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love

Chapter 46

The man frowned, "There's a time and place for making a scene. Today is not the occasion for your antics. Mom and the Templeton family can't afford to lose face here."

"Is it really Mom and the Templeton family who can't lose face, or is it Victoria who can't?" Rosemary snorted with laughter, her words sharp as thorns. "If I leave now, everyone will say I'm guilty. By tomorrow, everyone in the circle will know,” She paused, "that my master's skills are lacking, that the work I repaired is flawed, that we're frauds!"

For some reason, she didn't want Maxwell to know she was Rose, and he didn't need to know either.

"So what's your plan? Fix that painting yourself?" Maxwell, unfamiliar about the restoration circle and ignorant about Rose, assumed she was just another employee at Heritage Revive Studio. "You, a cleaner who observed for a few days, has made you an expert?"

In his mind, Rosemary was just a cleaner at the restoration studio; Christ had confirmed it after digging around, and Maxwell trusted Christ's competence—no way was there a mistake about something so trivial.

Maxwell took a deep breath, "Rosemary, what are you planning to fix it with? A broom?"

He didn't mean to look down on her; but professions could be worlds apart—one can't just watch and wish oneself skilled.

Was he not doing this for her own good?

He was nudging her to find an excuse to leave, to spare her the embarrassment and save face for the Templeton family. The Templeton family could brush off criticism, but Rosemary? Not so much.

Although they were legally married, they hadn't had a wedding, and only today had their marital status gone public. Who knows what stories people were scheming against her in secret? Especially if she ended up ruining a masterpiece.

"If you have the time to worry about how I'm going to restore it, you might as well worry about Victoria. For someone so high and mighty, being publicly humiliated could have unimaginable effects on her.”

Maxwell's brow furrowed. He was trying to discuss the risks involved, yet she kept dragging Victoria into it.

"Stop dragging others into this. If the painting isn't restored well, it's Rose's fault. You don't need to take the fall for her mistakes."

Rosemary scoffed. Well, who knew Maxwell was such a lapdog, taking Victoria's every word as gospel.

Meeting her fierce gaze, Maxwell softened his tone, "Be reasonable. I'm doing this for your own good."

Rosemary scoffed in response, "You really believe that yourself?"

"Mrs. Templeton." Wendy's voice came from downstairs, interrupting their argument, "I've prepared everything you asked for."

Without another word to Maxwell, Rosemary replied to the voice downstairs, "Thanks, Wendy. I'll be right down."

In the living room downstairs, the painting was laid out on a table, with the items Rosemary had requested beside it.

No one else had the mind for anything but to crowd around and watch the scene.

The damage was just a small section in the bottom right corner, nothing too severe. Otherwise, Rosemary wouldn't have been able to repair it in such a short time.

The music in the living room had stopped, leaving only the whispers of onlookers.

Maxwell stood on the periphery, his cool gaze fixed on Rosemary as she bent over her work, utterly absorbed in restoring the antique.

He had never seen her so engrossed in her work before. Back at the Templeton Group, she had the title of assistant but was always running errands, using little brainpower, let alone being particularly earnest. Most of the time, she just seemed to be idly sitting around, daydreaming.

This was a whole different side of her.

"Who do you think is lying, Rosemary or Ms. Temple?" whispered a familiar voice at his side. Maxwell glanced at Martin, who had shown up belatedly; he hadn't been there earlier, and Maxwell had thought he might not show up at all.

Frowning, Maxwell declined the glass of wine Martin offered, "Rosemary? Since when were you two so familiar with her?"

Martin detected an undertone of displeasure?

He gave a resigned chuckle, "I've always called her that."

"But you call Victoria 'Ms. Temple.'"

After a pause, Martin carefully replied, "I'm really not close with Ms. Temple."

He had known Rosemary for years. Due to her pursuit, he often saw her, and over time they grew familiar.

As for Victoria, if not for Maxwell, Martin doubted he'd ever cross paths with a dancer in his life.

Martin didn't care for dancing.

Maxwell's mood didn't lighten; he stopped talking, his gaze intense, watching the woman surrounded by the crowd.

It was uncertain how much time passed before the restoration finally came to an end.

Rosemary held up the painting and handed it to Pearl, "Mom, look, does it look exactly like it did before?"

The painting belonged to the old man, and Pearl could barely glance at it, let alone distinguish the difference. But if her daughter-in-law said it was the same, then it was!

"It's exactly the same. Our Rosemary is so talented, handling such a complex stuff, unlike some people who, apart from being scheming, have no good qualities."

Victoria felt the thick disdain.

She wondered if Rosemary had somehow bewitched Pearl! Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Turning to Victoria, Rosemary said, "Ms. Temple, even if an apprentice like me can fix this flaw, do you think a reputed expert like Master Rose couldn't? Would she leave such an obvious error for you to pick out? This painting was just restored; it needs proper maintenance for a while. I've given you the maintenance instructions and precautions. Instead of blaming others when things go wrong, maybe you should consider whether you failed in the follow-up care."

All eyes in the room shifted to Victoria. Though not overtly explicit, the eagerness to watch the drama unfold was palpable.

Even Victoria, no stranger to grand stages, was visibly rattled. Instinctively, she turned her head to look for Maxwell, hoping he'd step in and say something on her behalf. But when she caught his gaze fixed on Rosemary, her heart twisted with an unspeakable bitterness.

But with the situation being so thorny, she couldn't afford to lose her composure and forced herself to remain calm, "I apologize, like I said before, it may not necessarily be a fault of Master Rose, but ultimately, the blame rests on me. I jumped to conclusions without getting my facts straight. Rosemary, I owe you an apology, and I'm ready to compensate for any damage my words might have done to Ms. Rose's reputation. I'll come by with a proper gift to apologize another day."

Under normal circumstances, that would have been the end of it. After all, tonight's supposed to be Pearl's birthday banquet, and nobody wants to ruin the party. However, Victoria hadn't anticipated that Rosemary had no intention of letting her off the hook!

With a light chuckle, the woman said, "So, it's not Master Rose's fault, but mine? After all, the only other people who've handled this painting besides Master Rose are you and me."

Suddenly, Victoria felt her heart skip a beat.

Sure enough, Rosemary's next words were, "I have evidence that proves the blame wasn't in my part of the process."