Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 245

“I’ll do it,” the assistant offered quickly.

Once Theodore slipped off his coat, he noticed the shirt cufflinks—two sapphires, brilliantly cut and of exceptional quality.

“These are unusual cufflinks,” he remarked.

The assistant smiled. “Ms. Bennett has great taste. We actually wanted to collaborate with her, get permission to use her cufflink designs, but she turned us down.”

Theodore’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean—her designs?”

“Yes,” the assistant replied, still smiling. “Every pair of cufflinks you own was designed by Ms. Bennett herself. The ones you’re wearing now—blue sapphires—she paired just for this shirt. There are two more sets: one with pink and violet stones, the other with yellow diamonds. Last time, a client wanted to buy the yellow diamond cufflinks, insisted on it, but that was impossible. Ms. Bennett created that pair specifically for this shirt. She even named them—Celestial Goldsmith.”

Theodore glanced down at the Celestial Goldsmith cufflinks and suddenly understood the name.

Most of his cufflinks were platinum with gemstones or diamonds, but these yellow diamond ones were set in gold. He even recognized the delicate filigree work—it was called gold threadwork, a style Cecilia had been obsessed with lately.

The golden threads were shaped into a tiny five-petal bloom, encasing a golden diamond at the center. It was exquisitely crafted, even the back of the cufflink was adorned with a row of tiny golden blossoms.

“Oh, and by the way,” the assistant added, “Ms. Bennett’s gown was custom-made to match these Celestial Goldsmith cufflinks. Take a look.”

Emma’s bespoke dress was the only one of its kind—a soft golden yellow, stitched with clusters of tiny golden flowers, each blossom’s heart sparkling with a tiny diamond.

It was dazzling and undeniably beautiful.

“This little cocktail dress would be perfect for the Harvest Festival,” the assistant said with a cheerful laugh.

“Pack everything up,” Theodore said, feeling a strange tightness in his chest.

“Of course.”

Once the assistant had boxed everything, someone walked in.

Was that supposed to be an explanation?

Theodore let out a silent, icy laugh, grabbed the clothing, and walked out.

He’d never come here for custom clothes again, that was for sure.

He tossed the boxes into his car, climbed in, and headed home.

At that moment, only Marcia was at the house.

It was Marcia’s fifth day living there. At first, she’d been shy and a little nervous, but now she was slowly settling in. Still, she kept to herself and was always careful not to overstep.

Except for helping with meals and cleaning—or joining the family at dinner—she hardly ever entered the living room. Most of the time, she stayed in Fallon’s old nanny room, doing homework or reading.

Mr. Whitman had gone out, and her mother had left to pick up the laundry. Alone in the house, Marcia was lost in her book in the nanny’s room when she suddenly heard the front door open. She assumed her mother had returned and stepped out to check.