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Novel Catalog
Chapter 78: Medicinal Incense Is Poisonous
Wynter picked up the wooden box and walked out of the study, leaving her message behind. As for her handwriting, it was far from elegant—practical, at best. Regardless of whether Mr. Yarwood would understand it, it had served its purpose. She had made her point, and now it was time to leave.
Her actions were, in part, a reflection of superficial etiquette. Mr. Yarwood had given her gifts as if he were acknowledging her in some special way, and she had reciprocated, though perhaps not in the manner he expected. But that was the way it worked in this world—people acted based on the roles they were meant to play. It would be best to avoid him in the future.
But then she remembered the diamond-encrusted pen. It made her smile. Cultural people were indeed wealthy, she mused. A mere trinket to them, perhaps, but something to ponder in the quiet moments.
Meanwhile, Dalton remained unaware that his careful actions had backfired. He had spent the entire afternoon observing the footage from the study, and now, tired, he entered the room. As soon as he did, one of the bodyguards in black approached him.
“Sir, Ms. Wynter Quinnell didn’t take anything else. She only took the Zenith herb,” the bodyguard reported.
“Wynter Quinnell?” Dalton murmured, his eyebrows slightly raised. So, that was her name—Wynter Quinnell.
He walked into the study, peeling off his beaded bracelet as he went. His eyes flicked over the table, now noticing the remaining items from her visit. He asked casually, “Did she drink the tea?”
The bodyguard’s eyes widened in surprise. “Sir, we didn’t have time to replace the items yet. I’ll get rid of them immediately.”
Dalton’s distaste for others touching his tea set was well-known. The bodyguard’s hands hovered near the coasters, remembering the last time Ms. Quinnell from Kingbourne had stained them. He’d given strict orders to replace everything then, and they’d learned their lesson.
However, what shocked him now was that Wynter had actually dared to drink from Dalton’s tea and eat his desserts. She hadn’t followed any of the expected rules or courtesies.
Dalton’s eyes narrowed as he picked up the hot stamping paper. “Leave it. The tea was freshly brewed; it would be a shame to waste it.”
The bodyguard’s jaw dropped. Did he just say that? Was he—was he letting her drink from his tea set?
“Ms. Quinnell seems to have touched the macarons,” the bodyguard ventured, unsure how to proceed. “I should inform the pastry chef to…?”
“No need,” Dalton cut him off, his tone cool. He picked up a financial report from the desk, flipping it open without looking up. “She didn’t touch the other side.”
Samson, the bodyguard, scratched his head, still confused. He wasn’t sure whether Dalton was angry or if he just didn’t care.
Dalton seemed to sense his confusion and turned cold, his eyes piercing. “Samson, remember, she is my guest.”
Samson’s eyes widened in alarm, his voice shaking as he nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Dalton sighed, as though the matter were of little consequence now. “Throw away that medicinal incense.”
Just then, Ethan entered the room, hearing Dalton’s command.
“Sir, you can’t throw it away,” Ethan said, blocking Samson’s hand before he could discard the incense. “Ms. Yarwood bought it for you. It’s a rare medicinal incense.”
Dalton glanced up at Ethan, handing over the paper Wynter had written. “Read it yourself.”
Ethan took the paper and squinted at the messy handwriting. “It’s not good to smell medicinal incense for a long time?” he read aloud, frowning. “This handwriting is terrible.”
Dalton took a sip of his tea, seeming to remember something. He paused, then glanced back at his teacup. “She wrote this.”
Ethan’s voice raised in volume. “Dr. Genius said that? Then we have to believe it! I’ll throw it away immediately!”
Samson, still standing off to the side, deadpanned. So, the Dr. Genius Mr. Yarwood Senior has been waiting for… turned out to be a girl?
Ethan nodded vigorously, still processing the situation. “Yes, sir! Dr. Genius’ advice is worth more than gold!”
Dalton stared at his tea, his mind working over the words Wynter had left. He had a hunch that the medicinal incense wasn’t just harmless—if she said it was dangerous, he had no reason not to believe her.
Ethan hurried to dispose of the incense, but he couldn’t help asking, “Sir, it’s not like Dr. Genius’ style to remind you of something like this.”
Dalton gave a small, thoughtful hum as he turned his teacup slowly. “Yes, I agree.”
Wynter wouldn’t have written such a note unless the medicinal incense was not only ineffective but possibly harmful. But the incense had been a gift from Lydia—there was no way she’d knowingly give him something dangerous.
Dalton’s eyes narrowed, looking out the window in contemplation. The situation was becoming increasingly complicated.
His thoughts turned inward, and he couldn’t help but wonder—had she been right? Was the incense truly toxic?
