The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1817

“It wasn’t just me,” Charlotte said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “All the other doctors worked really hard too.” If it hadn’t been for them, she would never have figured out the cause so quickly.

Lavinia’s eyes shone with pride. “You’re such a good girl.”

Charlotte drew in a cold breath. The chill scratched her throat, making her cough.

“Did you catch a cold?” Concern filled Lavinia’s face in an instant. She shot Anthony a frosty look from across the room. “Is this how you’re taking care of Lottie?”

Anthony’s brow creased. He opened his mouth to say something, but Patricia jumped in before he could, voice sharp. “You let Lottie go somewhere dangerous, and thought you could just take care of her on your own? And now look at her!”

He had nothing to say. Patricia’s anger only grew—she brandished her cane, ready to take a swing at Anthony.

Anthony just stood there, not even flinching.

Before the cane could land, Charlotte stepped in and caught it lightly, throwing her grandma a disarming smile. “Grandma, I’m starving.”

“Starving?” All the fire left Patricia’s face. She clung to Charlotte’s hand, her smile wide and doting. “Come on, I already told the kitchen to make all your favorites. You’ve lost weight these past few days. You need to eat more.”

Before they left, Patricia tossed a warning glare at Anthony. “Lottie’s defending you, so I’ll let it go this time. But if anything happens again, don’t blame me.”

Anthony’s gaze lingered on Charlotte’s face. Some of the ice melted from his eyes and he even smiled a little. “Yes, Grandma,” he said, his tone respectful.

Honestly, he had no leverage in this family. He’d never dare cross Lottie anyway.

…

“It’s different now,” Franco said. “You’ve got Anthony, and the support of the Isle of Veil. You’re protected. Nothing bad will happen.”

Later, Nora pulled Charlotte into her room and spoke quietly, “Anthony still doesn’t know about your daughter?”

Charlotte shook her head and smiled, lips curved at the corners. “He still thinks I’m having two boys. It’s easier that way—he won’t stress so much.”

Otherwise, he’d spend every day worrying that his precious daughter might inherit the same gene mutation.

Better to wait until it was all over. Let it be a surprise.

“Oh, right…” Nora paused, then pulled a small wooden box out of her drawer and pressed it into Charlotte’s hands. “Your grandfather wanted Allanson to have this.”