Bride Behind The Mask (Frederick and Marguerite)

Chapter 895

Marguerite had been sulking the entire way up the trail, ignoring the man completely. No matter what the kids said or did, she kept her head down and pressed forward, determined to avoid him, to keep her distance, to have nothing to do with him at all.

But somehow, that only made the uneasy knot in her chest twist tighter.

This stifled, frustrated feeling was so much worse than when Maurice used to force her to look after him-it was a hundred, a thousand times more intense.

Why did she care this much? That couldn't be a good sign.

Marguerite realized, with a jolt, that her emotions now seemed entirely tangled up with Silas. And Silas was not Frederick; she absolutely refused to let herself fall into that trap again.

The mountain path wasn't especially steep, but the hike was long. By the time Marguerite and Hayes finally reached their tented hotel, the sun was beating down at its fiercest.

She was drenched in sweat, so exhausted she lost her appetite entirely. All she wanted was a shower. She slipped into her room, washed away the grime and heat, then collapsed onto the bed.

the endless blue sky. Outside, a camphor tree cast a deep green shade over the rounded edge of the tent, keeping the harsh sunlight at

sent another wave

Marguerite didn't just nap-she

finally woke, her body felt sticky and overheated, sweat clinging to

eyes fixed on her as he asked, "Mommy, you've slept all day. Aren't you hungry? Want

her stomach did start to rumble. She sat up, not bothering to check the time, assuming it

"Wait outside for me, honey. Mommy's going to change

Hayes nodded enthusiastically. “Okay!"

and slipped into a light silk blouse The v-neck showed off her elegant collarbones without being the least bit revealing. She tucked the gold

tent, opening directly into the lush forest. As soon as Marguerite stepped outside, a cool

glanced around, then spotted a small outdoor kitchen setup not far off, a gas stove glowing beneath a string

there, sleeves rolled, moving with the easy confidence of a seasoned chef as