Regret Novel 224

Old Mr. Carstair sat in the gazebo with an old friend, locked in a game of chess. He wore a loose, silk robe–fine, pale fabric draping elegantly over his frame. His mostly silver hair was combed back with meticulous care, and his fingers toyed absently with a string of polished prayer beads.

Mr. Lockwood stepped into the gazebo.

Old Mr. Carstair glanced up, his gaze settling on Charlotte just behind. His smile was warm and genuine. “Lottie, you’re here.”

She smiled and dipped her head. “Good afternoon, Professor.”

The middle–aged man playing against Old Mr. Carstair slowly turned. “Dr. Sterling. We meet again.”

“Mr. Rivers?”

“That’s right.” Winston Rivers nodded, then looked to Old Mr. Carstair. “I had no idea your student was Dr. Sterling. No wonder she’s such a talented surgeon at her age…”

“She’s exceptionally gifted–my one and only protégé.” Old Mr. Carstair abandoned his piece, switching from offense to defense. “Well? Now you’ve met her. I hope she didn’t let you down?”

Winston smiled. “Fate has a curious way of arranging things.”

“Lottie, Deputy Commissioner Rivers didn’t give you any trouble, I hope?” Old Mr. Carstair raised an eyebrow. Despite his age, there was a playful spark in his eyes–a mischievousness that never seemed to fade.

Winston looked a little sheepish.

after all. If I botched the surgery, it’d be your reputation on the line. Then how

laugh.

half an hour of pleasant conversation, Winston excused

strolled along the winding path through the endless tea gardens. “Professor, Grandma Rosemary handed us

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12:41

Chapter 224

I really have to attend the

you’ll run into someone you’d

Carstair was well aware of her history

If not for that marriage, Charlotte would have already

lowered her eyes,

spoke gently. “I don’t blame you. We all make foolish choices when we’re young. So you trusted the wrong person once–so what? You’re still young. You’ll meet someone who truly deserves you one

Howard family–just think of him as nothing

laugh at the way he flicked his

slipped beneath the horizon and

the grand hall, the place as lively

drank alone, the hush upstairs a stark contrast to the revelry below–he seemed

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