Chapter 61
Evelyn arched a brow. "Eleanor wasn't suggesting she'd only undergo the surgery after I got pregnant. She wants you to have a child. Time isn't on your side, Nathaniel. The older you get, the harder it becomes."
"Did you just imply I'm aging, Evelyn?"
"That's not the point, Mr. Whitmore. If you want Eleanor to agree to the surgery, you need to act fast. Plenty of women would jump at the chance to carry your heir. Sleep around—one of them is bound to stick."
Nathaniel's expression darkened. "What kind of man do you take me for?"
Sleep with a different woman every night? Was that really how she saw him?
"Victoria's an obvious choice. You two are perfect for each other. Marry her, start a family—problem solved."
Evelyn met his gaze defiantly.
Her words didn't sit well with Nathaniel. If anything, they irritated him further. He released her arm abruptly. "I intend to build a family with my lawful wife."
"Then let's finalize the divorce tomorrow. Once the papers are signed, you can marry Victoria immediately. She’ll be your lawful wife soon enough."
"You're in such a hurry to discard me—why? So you can run off to your new lover?" Nathaniel scoffed. His foot accidentally kicked a small bottle, sending it rolling across the floor.
It looked like it had fallen from Evelyn's bag.
Her pulse spiked. She lunged for it, but Nathaniel was quicker.
"Give it back!" she demanded.
He held it just out of reach, studying her frantic expression. "Why so defensive? Is this something I shouldn't see?"
Evelyn's wide-eyed panic only deepened his suspicion.
Birth control pills, perhaps?
He turned the bottle over—B-complex vitamins. His tension eased, replaced by dry amusement. "Vitamins? You made a scene over this? Maybe you should take something for your intelligence instead."
Evelyn snatched the bottle back, relief flooding her. Thank goodness she'd switched the labels earlier.
She shoved it into her bag and straightened. "I should go. If they come back, just turn them away."
"You think they’ll harass you again?"
Evelyn blinked. Was that… concern in his voice?
Nathaniel cleared his throat, his tone stiff. "Don’t misunderstand. I just don’t want a repeat of today’s chaos. I despise uninvited guests."
Of course. She exhaled softly. "I’ll handle them." Without another glance, she walked out.
Nathaniel remained rooted in place, watching until she vanished. Sinking onto the couch, he massaged his temples. Hadn’t he made it obvious enough?
He’d been waiting for her to ask for his help. Dispensing with Margaret and Beverly would’ve been effortless. But Evelyn never asked. She’ll deal with it herself—how? By running to that new man of hers?
Tch.
A derisive smirk twisted his lips—though whether it was directed at her or himself, even he wasn’t sure.
Robert hurried in. "Mr. Whitmore, the board is still waiting."
Right. Nathaniel had abandoned a critical meeting when the call came. He shouldn’t have rushed back at all.
As he stood, his fingers brushed against another bottle.
Folic acid?
He held it up, frowning. "Robert—what’s this for?"