The Kiss that Sparked it All

The young one, growing more independent by the day, seemed to dodge every attempt to reel her back in.

“I was hoping to get her to come home for tomorrow's dinner party, but she had every excuse in the book. Thankfully, she finally agreed,” said Francis.

"Oh, you,” Imogen said with a chuckle, her voice tinged with affection. “You should count your blessings that she said yes at all. Kids will be kids, after all. They're meant to spread their wings.” "And let's not forget Regina's internship at the newspaper,” she continued, her smile widening. “The girl's probably up to her neck in work. And she’s so modest about her connections to the Tanner family. She's a discreet one, that girl.”

Francis took her hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “They've all grown up, haven't they? Flown the coop. But I've got you, my rock. You've been here through it all, my dear. Don't think Regina's ungrateful. She's just... tied to her biological mother's memory.”

Imogen patted his hand softly. “Francis, we've been through thick and thin. Why would

fret over such trivialities? I watched Regina grow up. I know her heart. And there's nothing to apologize for. But I do wish she'd show up for the dinner. I see other folks kids settling down, and there she is, running around the paper, chasing after scoops like some kind of journalist. I may not be her birth mother, but my love for her lacks nothing. I don't want others to think she’s falling behind.”

Imogen’s maternal concern made Francis feel a deep sense of gratitude. “She's lucky to have you. Don't worry. I've already spoken to her. She'll be at the Tanner Mansion on time for the dinner party tomorrow night.”Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

“That's a relief,” Imogen replied, her voice light.

Once she was alone in her room, however, her expression fell. “That little ingrate, just like her dead mother. I bend over backward for her, and she can't even crack a smile. Moves out as soon as she’s of age, and poor old Francis is left pining. If she gets her way, she'll have the whole estate wrapped around her finger!”

The maid chimed in with a hint of gossip in her tone, “Absolutely, ma“am. The young Miss is getting too big for her britches, barely home three days out of the year, not like our Miss Madeline, steady as a rock and sweet-tempered. Everyone says you've done a fine job raising her.

Don't worry, ma'am. Given how much the old man trusts you, you'll have half the estate secured, and Miss Madeline won't have a care in the world.”

Imogen sighed heavily, a mix of frustration and resolve in her breath. “Men always want what they can't have..."

09:04

The maid knew better than to engage in such personal matters, so she remained silent.

“By the

way,

where's Madeline now?” Imogen inquired, her tone shifting.

The maid quickly plastered a sycophantic smile on her face. “Miss Madeline went out with some friends from the social circle. She mentioned she won't be home tonight but will be back in time for the dinner party tomorrow.”

Imogen’s brows knit together in displeasure. “I've reminded her time and again how important tomorrow night is. Why is she off gallivanting with those people? What could she possibly find so amusing with them? She's not just anyone; she’s the second daughter of the Tanner family.” “Ma'am, Miss Madeline had planned this outing a week ago, long before we scheduled the dinner party. She's young; it's normal for her to want a bit of fun.”

Imogen'’s frown deepened, but the maid, always perceptive, stepped forward to ease her tension with a comforting shoulder rub.