Eliza frowned. She did not know how long he had been standing there. "Young Master Jewell, you're at the wrong place. Cindy's lounge isn't here."
"I didn't know that you're quite good at styling," Chester had been standing there since she started working on her hair.
He saw her fingers nimbly weaving in and out of the hair at the back of her head as if she had eyes there.
This woman knew where her beauty was. It was a very simple hairstyle, but it was enough to emphasize her exquisite and refined face. He did not know a woman in a costume could look so beautiful.
"I can't help it. Someone bribed the stylist and is deliberately working against me, so I have to fend for myself," Eliza said indifferently, as if she was talking about a matter that was inconsequential to her.
"Are you saying that Cindy did it?" Chester looked at her, his dark eyes showing a slight sneer. "Are you complaining to me?"
Eliza frowned.
She could not figure out what Chester meant by that. Was he condemning her for talking about Cindy?
Or was he reminding her that Cindy was his woman,
and she had no right to talk about Cindy?
"Whatever you think it is. In any case, I can handle myself." Eliza stood up and said, "Young Master Jewell, could you leave? I want to close the door and change my clothes."
"Are you angry because I didn’t help you?" Not only did Chester not intend to leave, but he also braced himself against the door and his thin lips curled in rumination. 1
"No. I wouldn't dare get angry at someone with your status," Eliza answered calmly.
"That means you want to be angry, but you're suppressing it," Chester looked down at her dark and calm eyes.
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