Isadora stood there, feeling like an item on disy, waiting to be appraised and sold.
Today, she wore a simple white dress with delicate pleats at the neckline— minimalist, yet undeniably elegant. The dress hugged her slender figure, entuating every subtle curve. She wore no jewelry; her light brown hair, softly curled, was pinned back in an unadorned style, revealing a fresh, luminous face with sparkling eyes and a bright smile.
She really was a beauty.
No wonder her grandson was so taken with her.
Deanna''s gaze lingered for a moment before she spoke, her tone calm and measured. "Miss Vaughan, please sit."
Isadora wondered why Mrs. Fitzgerald had invited her here so suddenly. Her only impression of this woman came from that phone call she''d overheard-Deanna''s voice had sounded warm and loving as she spoke to Victor.
Now, in person, Deanna looked every bit the gracious matriarch, but there was an unmistakable authority in her eyes-a quiet intensity that made Isadora inexplicably nervous.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Fitzgerald."
A housekeeper stood nearby, heating water and preparing tea. The garden surrounding them was filled with rare and beautiful flowers—Isadora even spotted what looked like an edelweiss among the manicured beds.
The only sound was the gentle clink of china as the tea was poured, a serene ritual that carried a strange undercurrent of tension, making Isadora''s nerves hum with unease.
Atst, Deanna broke the silence.
"Miss Vaughan, do you enjoy tea?"
The housekeeper handed Isadora a delicate porcin cup. She took it, sipping cautiously. The tea was clear and golden, the aroma rich and lingering, the taste impossibly smooth, with a sweetness that blossomed on her tongue.
Even without being an expert, Isadora could tell this was exceptional tea.
"It''s wonderful," she said softly.
Deanna smiled, as ifmenting on the weather. "This is the finest Darjeeling. Even among the city''s elite, it''s nearly impossible to find a tea of this quality. Each year, only a few precious ounces are produced. That sip you just took would fetch fifty thousand dors at auction."
Fifty thousand a sip?
Isadora nearly choked on the tea''s staggering price.
She nced up and met Mrs. Fitzgerald''s sharp, appraising eyes. Forcing herself to remain calm, she took a slow breath.
Deanna''s smile never wavered.
"Victor is the Fitzgerald heir. He''s our only grandchild. His parents died when he was just six, and my husband and I devoted everything to raising him."
Isadora listened in silence, fingers pressing tightly around her teacup.
For a moment, as Deanna spoke of Victor, her coolposure softened and warmth crept into her features.
"He''s always been headstrong, reckless even-he''d spend a fortune just to make a pretty girl smile. But money means little to our family, Miss Vaughan."
Deanna lifted her own teacup, taking a delicate sip. "This tea may seem priceless to you, but for us, only the very best will do. Anything less simply wouldn''t suit the Fitzgerald family."
Isadora''s gaze flickered. Slowly, she raised her head and looked Deanna straight in the eye.
"Mrs. Fitzgerald—”
Deanna held up a hand, cutting her off.
"Miss Vaughan, since this is our first meeting, let me give you a little wee gift."
At her signal, the housekeeper stepped forward, presenting a folder with both hands.
Isadora hesitated, her fingers trembling slightly as she epted the document.