Operation Red Book

Chapter 204: Another wave of troubles 1

"Are you okay? Cute little elf."

In the tense atmosphere, no one present dared to breathe easily, except Mrs. Emerson who had a smile on her face.

Mrs. Emerson was undoubtedly the most conspicuous presence on the field, both in her noble temperament and elegant appearance.

She was wearing a red Polish dress with circles of bustles open wide, paired with a tight embroidered top made of red lace, which had the style of the 18th century French court.

She took off her milky white deerskin gloves, pinched up a corner of her skirt and walked slowly towards the child under the stroller. Her expression was gentle and loving, and her voice was soft and peaceful.

Mrs. Emerson's action effectively eased the tense atmosphere in the manor. The Marquis Baxter gasped for breath on the spot, and Andrew and Miss Fiona continued to laugh.

"Please allow me to introduce these lovely and pitiful children to you."

Mrs. Emerson and the head maid Claire picked up the fallen child together, and then hugged several "Smurfs" behind them.

The whole picture looks like a Renaissance painting of the Virgin Mary, except that the "little angels" are replaced by "Smurfs."

"These children are orphans with tragic experiences. They belong to the Florence Orphanage on August Street." Mrs. Emerson's tone was very soft and slow.

"Everyone must be aware of the tragedy at the Florence Orphanage some time ago. They are the survivors of that explosion."

"After learning the news, I immediately arranged temporary accommodation for the children and called on charities in London to provide funding."

At this point, Mrs. Emerson could hardly control her emotions. Her eyes were filled with hot tears and her thick eyelashes were covered with tears.

"But everyone knows that the McMillan Manor was attacked a month ago. The mistakes Lucas made finally brought God's punishment. In today's upper class society, I no longer have any status."

"Oh! Please don't say that! The Emerson family is still a shining example in London!" Mrs. Baxter helped out from below.

"Thank you for your comfort, Bonnie!" Mrs. Emerson's mouth never fell, "I know my current situation..."

With deep emotion, two crystal clear tears rolled down Mrs. Emerson's cheeks. She sniffed and turned her head to kiss the child's white hat.

"Oh! What a loving scene!"

The Marquis of Baxter shouted at the top of his voice, and the servants also made noises of regret.

"Today is my birthday party. I am deeply moved by the program carefully prepared by the children... Of course, I am also lucky that I made up my mind to support the Florence Orphanage."

"But I knocked your cake off."

The child in the lady's arms spoke loudly, his big innocent eyes open, and his childish voice drowned out the lady's sobs.

"Oh! Dear children, please believe in Mrs. Emerson's broad mind, this is just a trivial matter." Claire helped Mrs. Emerson to reply.

"Mrs. Emerson will only regret not letting you have more cake!"

“We can have our cake and eat it too!”

An older child in the back row was the first to react, and she spoke out loudly what she was thinking.

"Exactly!"

Mrs. Emerson let go of the child in her arms and stood up gracefully. There was a friendly smile on her face and her walking movements were full of grace and elegance.

"You can join us for the dinner, cakes, desserts, dishes... Please don't complain about the poor hospitality of McMillan Manor."

"Yeah!"

Before Mrs. Emerson finished her announcement, the children had already raised their hands to celebrate.

All of a sudden, more than thirty "Blue Elves" rushed into the tent, knocking the dignified nobles and servants to the ground.

"Oh! Don't lean on my skirt! You are so dirty!" Mrs. Goodwin leaned against the edge of the tent with disgust.

"Did you paint on your face? Ah! Don't smear it on my skirt!" Miss Fiona left the dinner tent angrily.

"Ohh! You guys are so cute, do you want to ride on my neck? My belly is as soft as a ball!"

Marquis Baxter chased the "Smurfs" everywhere, making the already chaotic scene even more noisy.

"Children, use your knives and forks! Not your hands! Stay off the table! Don't drink from your mouth!"

"Don't eat the cake on the ground! Don't eat the cream that's stained with mud!"

"Oh my God! The yellow drink you drank was alcohol... What, you are only eight years old! Holy Mother Mary! Please forgive my mistakes!"

The servants were in a panic for a moment, wishing they had two more arms to stop these "little blue monkeys" running around in the forest.

Things were getting a little out of control. Ivy looked at the countless blue figures in the tent and her expression suddenly became panicked.

The children in the welfare home were abused by Maurice and Ms. Maggie since they were young. The food they ate every day was worse than the food in prison. They had never seen the delicacies served at aristocratic banquets.

The dinner in the tent turned into a world of "Smurfs". The guests were squeezed out of the tent, looking at the crazy scene in the tent at a loss.

"It's raining?"

Christine's voice suddenly rang in Ivy's ears.

"What...really?"

Before Christine finished her words, Ivy felt a few raindrops falling on her head. The raindrops were large and bitingly cold.

"There are two human heads on the window of the reception room. Do you see them?"

Dorian's voice followed closely, and the three of them looked at the blurry figure swaying in the light and shadow.

The shadows, one big and one small, seemed to be silently observing everything on the lawn.

"Is there anybody in the drawing-room? Could it be the servants?"

"Servants don't wear bowler hats... Ah! It's the German who rides in the royal carriage."

"Grand Duke Eric Brontz!" Ivy and Christine shouted in unison.

"He was accompanied by a short man wearing a pair of small glasses. He was silly and didn't say a word. He started writing and drawing as soon as he got off the carriage. He seemed to be from a newspaper..."

"That's a reporter!" Ivy screamed.

This is not good. Journalists are the hardest to guard against. If they catch a slight mistake in the banquet, the headlines of newspapers in the streets and alleys tomorrow will be that ridiculous title - "The Fall of Macmillan Manor: Aristocratic Dinner Attacked by Blue Monkeys"

"What should I do now..."

Dorian's face wrinkled again, and his voice became extremely deep.

Ivy looked around panicking. The next show was a bonfire concert. The Royal Belgian Orchestra and opera singers from the London Opera House had already prepared backstage.

But it was about to rain, and the atmosphere was so awkward and noisy.

The bonfire may not be lit, but the concert may still be saved!

"There's going to be a concert, right? Don't light the bonfire. Hurry up and get the guests in. The concert will be held in the ballroom..."

Just as Ivy told Dorian her solution, a chill accompanied by a gust of cold wind crept up Ivy's tailbone.

She shuddered and looked towards the mansion gate in the distance. The atmosphere seemed a little wrong.