Chapter 687

Henry Lancaster's piercing gaze locked onto Harrison, his expression darkening with irritation. "You'd better watch your words!"

Everyone knew Isabella was a sensitive topic for Henry—no one dared to bring her up.

Yet Harrison not only mentioned her but openly mocked him right to his face. The audacity of this woman was staggering.

Harrison met his glare without flinching. "Tell me, Mr. Lancaster, which part of what I said was incorrect?"

Henry's jaw tightened. "There was never anything between Eleanor and me."

Harrison tilted her head, unimpressed. "If nothing happened, then why did Ms. Whitmore misunderstand?"

Henry hesitated before replying, "She was just being petty and jealous."

A sharp glint flashed in Harrison's eyes. "How amusing, Mr. Lancaster. When things go wrong, you blame her jealousy. But tell me—if there were no other women around you, what would she have to be jealous of? Or better yet, knowing how she felt, why did you keep others so close?"

Henry was rendered speechless.

Before, Isabella's theatrics had given him headaches. Now, Harrison's razor-sharp tongue left him utterly defenseless.

"What happens between me and my wife is private. It's none of your concern. I suggest you learn some restraint."

Harrison dipped her head slightly. "My apologies. I won't speak of it again. I'll take my leave now."

She turned to go but paused at the door, glancing back.

"Oh, one more thing, Mr. Lancaster. Allow me to correct you—Ms. Whitmore is your ex-wife now. So, strictly speaking, it's no longer your private affair, is it?"

Henry's glare could have burned holes through steel, silently commanding her to leave.

Suddenly, a voice echoed from the hallway. "Nathaniel, you can't just storm into Henry's study!"

Nathaniel's deep, smooth voice responded, "Where's Harrison? I heard she came here. Is she really in Mr. Lancaster's study?"

Eleanor stammered, "I—"

"Ms. Whitmore, step aside. I'm here for Harrison."

"This is Henry's private study. Perhaps you should wait outside while I inform him of your arrival."

"No need."

With a soft creak, the door swung open, revealing Nathaniel's tall, imposing figure in the doorway.

Henry's eyes lifted, his brows knitting together sharply.

Nathaniel strode in with effortless confidence, stopping beside Harrison. "Harrison, why did you leave without telling me? And what are you doing in Mr. Lancaster's study?"

Harrison hadn't expected Nathaniel to catch up so quickly. "I was just visiting Mr. Lancaster's home."

Nathaniel's lips thinned in displeasure. "Fine. But why his study? What exactly is your relationship with him?"

Henry's already foul mood darkened further. Nathaniel was looking at him as if he'd caught him in some scandalous act.

"What are you implying?" Henry growled. "Do you seriously think there's something between us? I'm old enough to be her father."

Nathaniel shot him a sharp glance. "How would I know what goes on in your head? These days, older men seem to have a peculiar fondness for younger women."

Henry was left speechless—the insult couldn't have been more blatant.

"Both of you—get out!" Henry barked.

Eleanor stepped forward nervously. "Ms. Whitmore, Nathaniel, please leave before he gets angrier."