Epilogue
Isolde was overseeing the dinner preparations that night when Cornelia came in, a little breathless, and told her that Lady Hartington had come to call on her. Isolde hurried to the drawing room, a little nervous at what had brought Thaddeus’s mother to her house.
Her stomach clenched as she remembered their last encounter, when the woman had accused her of being after Thaddeus’s money and title. She’d hoped that it was all behind them, but maybe not.
“Lady Hartington,” she greeted her, dropping into a curtsey.
“Miss Fairchild,” Lady Hartington replied, inclining her head. “I will not take much of your time. I came to offer my condolences.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
“My son has explained everything, and I … I am sorry for everything you have been through.”
That was certainly not what Isolde had expected. She felt a surge of emotion at this sudden offer of solidarity.
“Thank you,” she said. “Truly, that means a lot to me.”
“I believe I was too harsh on you before. But perhaps when you have children you would do anything for, you will understand.”
“I think I already understand,” Isolde replied softly. “My younger brother and sister, I would do anything to protect them.”
Lady Hartington gave her a sharp look and then suddenly broke into laughter. Isolde stifled her frown of confusion.
"Forgive me, Lady Hartington, I think I missed the joke."
"I am only laughing at myself, dear. I think I see now why I was so wary of you at first. You remind me of myself when I was younger."
Isolde blinked in surprise and then found herself smiling.
“That compliment is too kind,” she said, a warm feeling lighting her up inside.
Lady Hartington laughed again.
“My children would no doubt tell you that it is not always a compliment to be compared to me. But now that I see you clearly, I am starting to understand why my son is so besotted by you.”
And Lady Hartington stood then, crossing the room and beckoning Isolde to stand as well.
“Let me hug you, my dear, and welcome my future daughter properly to the family.”
Isolde fought back tears of joy as she stood and stepped into the older woman’s embrace.
“I think,” Lady Hartington said as she hugged her tightly, “that you will make a wonderful marchioness.”
THE END