Chapter 18

For an instant, Matthew considered to take his discarded shirt and put it on, but the lady already beckoned him to follow her.

"Come with me."

Anxious to keep a respectable distance, he followed the lady to a small garden near the library, where she ordered him to rearrange the position of some flowerpots.

As he moved about the short space, he became painfully aware of the woman's excessive attention. During the course, she continued to stare at him in that odd, alarming way, but he dismissed the unsettling feeling and focused on his work.

Hoisting a heavy sandstone pot, he spun around and almost crashed into the lady, who had come to stand right behind him. He staggered back a step.

"Pardon me, Milady."

"How old are you, Matthew?" The older woman asked out of the blue.

"I'm seventeen, Milady."

"I see." She murmured, her eyes drifted from his naked chest to his muscular biceps.

"You have strong arms."

He couldn't think of a reply to that remarks, so he dropped his gaze and sidestep