The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 2088

"Uh—"

At the mention of Ophelia, everyone's expressions turned slightly awkward.

"Good, yes, she's been good too."

Lavinia managed a strained smile, though the dark circles under her eyes made it hard to sell the lie.

"Yeah, she's been great," Matthew added, failing to stifle a yawn. "It's just that she doesn't sleep at night and insists on being carried while walking..."

"What nonsense are you talking about?"

Lavinia smacked his arm, dropping her voice to a furious whisper. "If you're tired, go to bed!"

"I'm not tired, not at all." Matthew stubbornly shook his head. Gently squeezing his granddaughter's little foot, he said dotingly, "I still have to play with our little Ophie."

"Ah ah... oh..."

Seeing her mother, Ophelia was thrilled, her tiny limbs flailing wildly. Her little pink tongue stuck out as she babbled away, her face flushing bright red with effort.

Charlotte: "..."

She probably kept them up half the night, didn't she?

"The young miss is so energetic." Just then, a random maid suddenly chimed in. "I wonder if she takes after the young master or the young madam?"

"..."

At this, all eyes immediately shifted to Charlotte.

"Hmm?"

Anthony looked down, helping his wife out of her coat and gently smoothing her hair. Hearing the maid's words, his fingers paused.

"She definitely takes after you."

Charlotte looked up at Anthony, her voice dead certain. "My mom said I was incredibly well-behaved as a baby. I wasn't noisy like Ophelia at all."

"..."

Patricia, Lavinia, and Matthew exchanged glances, then looked at Frederick, who was quietly drinking his milk.

If they were talking about who took after whom, Frederick's personality was exactly like his father's.

From childhood to adulthood, keeping a straight face, ignoring everyone.

When he was little, they thought he was autistic.

When he grew up, they thought his face was just paralyzed.

"Why do I feel like little Fred takes more after..."

Matthew was about to speak when Lavinia cut him off.

Charlotte: [Mom, I was a pretty well-behaved baby, right?]

Less than ten seconds later, Nora replied: [?]

Charlotte: [I feel like Frederick's personality is a lot like mine.]

She typed those words very cautiously.

Nora: [You must be joking. You're exactly like little Ophie.]

Charlotte: [?]

Nora: [When you were a baby, you were a little terror. Playing all day and night, grabbing whoever was near to babble at them. Several maids actually cried and tried to quit because they couldn't handle the sleepless nights looking after you.]

Charlotte: [...]

Nora: [Ophie's lively personality is a carbon copy of you when you were little.]

Charlotte: [You must be remembering it wrong.]

After sending that last text, Charlotte swiftly locked her phone.

She turned her head, glancing at Ophelia, who was clutching a bottle and babbling away at her father—a baby who looked exactly like her...

As long as she didn't admit it, the chubby bunny took after Anthony.