Chapter 358: Chapter 358: Talk Is Cheap
Old Mrs. Yeats felt her pride taking a severe hit. She had warned them from the very beginning that they shouldn’t have brought this illegitimate child back into the fold; returning would only bring disgrace to the Yeats family! Now, her predictions were proven right. How could this girl even begin to compare to Claire’s refined and reasonable nature?
Claire Yeats pursed her lips. Looking hesitant, she stepped forward to intervene. "Estelle, apologizing is just for outsiders to see. Aunt Melody and Evan don’t actually mind. It’s just that with so many people watching, if you don’t make a statement, it will affect your reputation. What if everyone starts calling you petty?"
Her words sounded perfectly reasonable and well-founded.
The surroundings fell silent, as if even the wind had stagnated. Only the suppressed breathing of the crowd could be heard.
Estelle Lockwood smiled lightly, her demeanor completely unbothered. "I’m sorry, but I won’t apologize."
Old Mrs. Yeats struck her cane fiercely against the floor. THWACK! The deafening sound echoed through the room. "Estelle Lockwood!" she barked. "I’m letting this go for the sake of us being family! I’m only asking you to apologize, and what kind of attitude is this?! You made a mistake, yet you act so arrogantly. Is this how your parents raised you?!"
The crowd exchanged glances once again, none of them understanding what exactly Estelle was trying to achieve.
"Old Mrs. Yeats, as you said, one only needs to apologize if they’ve made a mistake. I don’t believe I’m in the wrong, so why should I apologize?" Estelle swept her gaze across the room. "At the very least, I have evidence. But what about you?
"You claim that these are Mrs. Yeats’s works, yet you can’t produce a shred of evidence. Anyone can flap their lips and make an empty claim. I could just as easily say the Yeats family belongs to me. Without proof, would the Yeats family become mine?
"You’re just relying on your words and your numbers," Estelle continued frostily. "You’re taking advantage of the fact that my parents have passed away, that the dead can’t speak, and that I’m all alone. Isn’t that right?"
Mrs. Yeats hastily shook her head. "Estelle, that’s not what we mean. It’s just that so much time has passed. If you want evidence, we can’t produce it on such short notice..."
"The simplest proof right now would be for you to paint a piece on the spot, Mrs. Yeats." Estelle suddenly smiled. "Do you dare?"
The onlookers exchanged looks. Several senior painters nodded in agreement.
"Old Mrs. Yeats, that does make sense... Miss Lockwood at least has evidence, but on Mrs. Yeats’s side... If Mrs. Yeats is the original artist, the best way to prove it would be to paint another piece.
"That way, the truth will be clear at a glance, and I’m sure Miss Lockwood would be willing to apologize."
Old Mrs. Yeats’s face turned livid. "What kind of nonsense is that?!
"We are family! Are you suggesting we would gang up to frame Estelle Lockwood?!
"We are all her elders. Estelle, are you implying that we elders have no self-respect and are deliberately coveting your parents’ inheritance? What a joke! The Yeats family has everything it could ever want; we couldn’t care less about your meager possessions!"
"You’re the one who said you have no self-respect. I never said that," Estelle replied nonchalantly. "It seems you also think of yourself that way."
"You..." Old Mrs. Yeats choked on her words.
"Am I wrong? You keep saying you couldn’t care less, and you keep harping on about how we’re family," Estelle continued. "Since we’re family, and since you claim it’s for my own good, then you should at least let me die knowing the truth. As I said, my evidence is right here. If you’re dissatisfied, you can bring out your own evidence.
"The evidence I want must be able to convince the public, not just empty words from your mouths. Do you understand, Old Mrs. Yeats?"
"You, you..." Old Mrs. Yeats pointed a trembling finger at Estelle.
Estelle calmly retorted, "Am I wrong?"
"Insolent! How insolent! We are family, how could we possibly..." Old Mrs. Yeats’s fingers shook with rage. She was completely furious! "Estelle Lockwood, I will give you one last chance. If you do not apologize, the Yeats family will no longer acknowledge your existence from this day forward!"
A junior causing a scene in public, and acting so disrespectfully even when she, an elder, stepped in! Who did she think she was? Did she think that just because she had returned to the Yeats family, no one could do anything about her? She could be brought back, and she could just as easily be kicked out!
Estelle, however, remained calm. "If I can’t seek justice for my parents and get a clear answer, and if you publicly accuse and frame me without evidence in an attempt to pass off their work as someone else’s—only to then threaten me with expulsion from the Yeats family to force me to change my tune... Old Mrs. Yeats, what makes you think a family like this is worthy of keeping me?"
The entire venue fell dead silent. The crowd was utterly dumbfounded. Estelle was implying that the Yeats family wasn’t good enough for her!
"You insolent brat! Insolent!!" Old Mrs. Yeats slammed her cane hard against the floor, clutching her chest. "Our Yeats family has a century-long legacy! I am the wife of the previous Family Head and the current matriarch of the Yeats family! Are you saying I would stoop so low as to frame a junior like you?!"
Estelle stood up. "It seems we won’t be reaching an agreement today, and I won’t be getting the result I want. Old Mrs. Yeats, since you can’t produce any evidence, I will continue to maintain that this is my father’s legacy."
Just then, the manager from earlier rushed in, beaming with joy. "Old Madam! Second Young Master! Good news, great news!"
Still agitated, Old Mrs. Yeats furrowed her brow at his words. "What are you panicking about?"
"Someone is here, and they want to collaborate with the Yeats family! It seems they’ve taken a liking to these paintings and are hoping to establish a long-term partnership."
"Our Yeats family doesn’t just partner with any random associate," Old Mrs. Yeats replied dismissively.
"It’s not just anyone. It’s Mr. Lynch!" The manager’s face flushed red with excitement. "Mr. Lynch, the current helmsman of the charity foundation!"
Old Mrs. Yeats’s eyes instantly lit up.
Naturally, she had heard of this Mr. Lynch. The charity foundation was merely the most insignificant part of his vast empire. Although many ordinary people might not recognize the name, all the wealthy families in Capital City knew that Mr. Lynch wielded immense influence, making him someone every prominent family was eager to curry favor with.
And now, he had actually taken a liking to these paintings!
If they could secure this partnership with the Yeats family in Evan’s name, it would undoubtedly give Evan a huge advantage in the succession race. Why should the Yeats family be handed over to Quentin Yeats, when Evan clearly pleased her much more?!
"Quickly, invite Mr. Lynch in," Old Mrs. Yeats urged with a beaming smile, before shooting a cold glare at Estelle. "Estelle, you see? Even Mr. Lynch knows that these works belong to the Yeats family. If you continue to cause a scene, I’ll have no choice but to kick you out."
Estelle curled her lips into a smirk. It seemed Nathaniel Sloan had arrived.
"There really is nothing left to say to you, Old Mrs. Yeats," Estelle said flatly.
As she brushed past the old woman, she suddenly paused and added, "Securing a partnership with Mr. Lynch is certainly a good thing, but that’s only if you actually have the fortune to pull it off. I don’t object to you wanting to prop up Evan, but claiming someone else’s legacy as your own is simply unconscionable. If word gets out, not only you, but Evan too, will suffer the consequences.
"I wish you success with the partnership. Good luck."
With that, Estelle smiled and walked away, leaving Old Mrs. Yeats with a dark and unsettled expression.
Would Mr. Lynch find out? No, he wouldn’t! It was impossible for anyone else to know these secrets!
As Estelle walked out the door, she happened to run into the masked Nathaniel Sloan.