"Oh? Then I must have misspoken." Maxwell Saxon glanced at Softy again, a meaningful smile playing on his lips. "If Miss Softy truly is a flower with no master, there are quite a few excellent single gentlemen in Seymour. If Miss Softy is willing, I could arrange something..."
"That's not necessary." Softy hurriedly rejected him before he could finish his sentence.
Maxwell Saxon looked at her, raised an eyebrow, and asked, "Miss Softy isn't willing?"
Softy bit her lip, turned her head, looking at Matthew Saxon with a complex gaze, stammering, "I... I don't plan on dating anyone right now. I appreciate the Young Master's kindness."
The look Softy gave Matthew Saxon was filled with admiration, shyness, worship, and a faint touch of sadness and melancholy.
Maxwell Saxon glanced at the two of them, smirking knowingly. "In that case, let's not force it."
