The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 633 Rosalind Herbert Burns Field

The attraction of being upper class, respectable and elegant.

There is a way to let Old Tom speak.

Upper class.

Decent.

elegant.

Put out a few bottles of red wine from the royal collection, welcome the beloved man with the most grand ceremony, and invite him to take a seat in the most complicated, ancient and elegant way.

Then *yourself.

It meets the requirements exactly.

But Old Tom couldn't say that to Lillian.

He knew, and had heard from the master, that his young lady had always been thinking about that gentleman - the executor, a genius of the Inquisition, a man favored by Enid Judia (with an unclear relationship).

He was born in a humble family, even lowly. He had an uncle who ran a herbal medicine shop (my Lord, can that be considered a 'shop'?)

There is also a "foster mother" who was brought back from somewhere——

He actually asked his adoptive mother and uncle to live together shamelessly.

Such a man is not worthy of a Shelley girl.

Not even worthy of being an 'adopted daughter'.

Even if he has a future, is on good terms with Taylor, and is sure to become a high-ranking figure in the future - that is a matter of the future.

"The teacher we hired for you will teach you the skills to attract gentlemen in a classy, ​​respectable and elegant way. Miss, you just need to study hard..."

"I don't think Roland likes to hear about calculations and tobacco." Rose muttered with her face covered.

"But that is knowledge that makes you better. As long as you are good enough, more and better men will be attracted to you..."

Rose groaned, "What does that have to do with me?"

Old Tom sighed and brought the subject back to the subject: "Let's talk about eyes, miss. Coffee steam can't make you more attractive - who told you that?"

"I won't betray my friends," Rose pulled off the towel and threw it on the table. "Halida! Halida!"

She called Halida over and asked her to look carefully into her eyes.

"Is it brighter than yesterday?"

Halida could only smell the strong coffee all over her face.

"…Maybe, miss."

"What do you mean 'maybe'?" Rose was dissatisfied: "There must be something wrong with the coffee."

The old butler rubbed his forehead, placed the letter on the table—and took away the used towel.

"Whose letter?"

Rose stretched her neck. She had learned something in these days - at least she could recognize some simple words.

It had her name on it.

"For me?"

"Apparently, there was another one for the master," said Old Tom, as he put the towel on his forearm, feeling somewhat puzzled. "I remember you said you would not touch her."

touch…

Who?
Rose blinked, picked up the envelope, and seeing the butler's hesitant expression, she used her fingernails to remove the sealing wax and pulled out the thin letter paper inside.

The letter was not flowery or complicated. In Rose's words, it was not the kind of letter that "actively created difficulties."

Simple short sentences, asking about health, mentioning the weather in London, and telling some interesting stories.

Then get straight to the point.

She hoped to pay a visit to the new heir of the Shelley family, the new heir who she had heard of by chance, who was both ‘intelligent’ and ‘charming’.

The signature is:
Rosalind Herbert Burns Field.

谁…

Coming?

Rose rolled her eyes.

Oh, right.

The woman who possessed the ritual that Halida needed.

A woman who inherited the property of three husbands.

"I thought you wouldn't approach her in an indecent way," Old Tom observed his young lady's expression and found that she didn't seem to be very interested, so he felt relieved. "Burns doesn't have a good reputation, so don't take the initiative to visit her - unmarried ladies never do this."

"So I didn't."

Rose folded the letter in half and threw it on the table: "I wanted to, but..."

She originally wanted to catch someone, ask for details, and sneak in with Halida on a dark night - huh?

Rose scratched her head. "That's good. Miss, do you want me to reply for you? The master said you can decide the time." Tom asked.

There is no way to refuse such a letter - if it is an invitation, it would be fine, but since the letter says "I hope to visit you", the reply can only be "It would be my honor".

of course.

You can also reply: I don’t make friends with *sheep people.

But it's not necessary.

"Please reply for me, Tom. Let's make an appointment for afternoon tea tomorrow."

Rose rolled her hair in annoyance and waved her other hand: "It just so happens that I want to meet this lady..."

She thought about the ritual that Burns held, and how to get it. After Old Tom left the door, the girl frowned and asked Halida:

"Why don't we steal it?"

Halida looked bewildered.

"I mean, we should find a night and do it secretly...right?" Rose became more and more hesitant. "I mean, that Burns."

She remembered Cinder's warning, telling her not to always bring Halida along to cause trouble...

Maybe.

Was it Chandel who convinced me?

As soon as this thought came to mind, Rose strangled it.

She couldn't accept that she had been persuaded by that vicious bitch.

Ok.

I must be worried about Roland, worried about causing trouble for him and the "tea party". Before he comes back, I should be a little more restrained...

I endured it for Roland and the "Tea Party".

"Halida."

"Miss Rose?"

“I have paid so much for you.”

Halida: ...

Should, should, right?
…………

……

Ms. Burns arrived promptly the next afternoon.

She brought two maids and a young, smart-looking male servant.

of course.

There was no need for these servants to be present during the meeting with James and Lillian.

——It was an oval face with the nose being the only prominent feature.

She put on some powder and her half-closed eyelids covered her dull eyes.

She was dressed in black silk, and the corners of her mouth seemed to have been drooping for years. She could no longer remember the process of smiling. When she stared, apart from the clear brown veins in her eyes, one could always detect the lingering sadness.

She walked lightly, as thin as a shadow wandering under the death knell.

When we were invited in, the room temperature seemed to drop a few degrees.

"Good day, Mr. Shelley."

She took off her cap with net gauze and let the servant take off her gloves. At this time, the clever manservant came forward with the bag and presented the square gift box to Harriet who was beside old Tom.

"I heard that the Shelley family has a new heir, a smart and elegant girl - I hope you will like my gift."

Her voice was like heavy waves that came over layer upon layer. It was not so beautiful that you would never forget it after hearing it once, but it made people feel genuinely comfortable.

Rose thanked him politely, and when she saw a sapphire necklace in the box, her smile became even brighter:

"I just want a beautiful necklace."

When it comes to etiquette, both the upper and lower classes have similar ways of dealing with it.

It's just more complicated and more 'thoughtful'.

Even a thug should know how to respond to a gift—

There will be no one like Roland.

'How about I give you a walking stick? A new style recently introduced, with an eagle-beak handle and silver-plated.'

'Will it peck your hand?'

***!

Peck you to death.

(End of this chapter)