"This is Miss Hughes, and soon, she will be the mistress of this house. Therefore, her word is my word." Julian Winslow's gaze swept over everyone in the room one by one. His tone sounded like an introduction, yet carried the weight of a command.
In full view of everyone, he took her hand. Her petite hand was entirely enveloped in his grasp, their palms exchanging a mutual warmth.
"Are you tired? If you are, I'll take you upstairs to rest," Julian Winslow asked softly.
Naturally, Shalma Hughes had no desire to linger under the watchful eyes of the crowd, so she immediately nodded. Julian Winslow then led her toward the stairs. It wasn't until their silhouettes disappeared at the top of the staircase that the servants in Winslow Garden finally let out the breath they had been holding.
"Did you all see that? Sir was so gentle... I bet this woman is definitely going to be the future madam. No doubt about it."
