Regretting the Wife He Threw Away novel Chapter 19

Hearing this, Rosita hurried forward and took Fiona’s hand, her voice gentle and soothing. “Fiona, please, don’t get worked up yet. What exactly did my brother say to you? Could this be a misunderstanding? Ms. Kensington has always treated Irwin like her own son—why would she ever hurt him?”

“Rosita, don’t let this woman fool you!” Fiona shot Briony a glare, then squeezed Rosita’s hand with a sigh. “It’s one thing for Irwin to be young and easily manipulated, but you’re his real mother—you should know how treacherous people can be! Briony’s birth mother was a criminal, and she’s just as conniving as her mother. Both the Hudsons and the Kensingtons refuse to acknowledge her—that says it all!”

Rosita stared at Briony, her face frozen with disbelief.

“Ms. Kensington, is what Fiona said true?” she asked quietly.

Briony couldn’t help but let out a cold, incredulous laugh. She saw no reason to dignify Rosita’s question with an answer.

Instead, she fixed her gaze on Fiona, lowering the hand that had been covering her face, and spoke icily:

“First of all, if you’re so concerned about why Irwin had a fever, maybe you should ask your own son. Second, there’s a big difference between accidental manslaughter and being a murderer. If you can’t tell the two apart, perhaps your son can give you a little crash course in law. For someone who runs in high society, Fiona, you really ought to know the basics. Otherwise, you’re bound to make a fool of yourself.”

“You—!” Fiona bristled with anger. “Briony, you have no respect for your elders!”

Briony let out a cold snort. “As I said, you were the one who acted without dignity first. Don’t blame me for not showing respect.”

Rosita, ever the peacekeeper, tried to mediate, her voice soft and conciliatory. “Ms. Kensington, Fiona’s only acting out of concern. She’s our elder, and as the younger generation, we should try to be more understanding. Maybe you could just let it go for now.”

Fiona, hearing this, seemed visibly appeased. “See, now that’s what I call a well-bred young lady!”

Briony nearly laughed out loud at the absurdity of it all.

She knew better than anyone—prejudice is a mountain that cannot be moved by words alone.

She turned her gaze to Stewart.

His brow was furrowed, his dark eyes unreadable. As Briony looked at him, his gaze met hers.