But she would not win. Isabella was no hunter. She was a vulture, and all she cared about was a carcass to feast upon.
It will never be mine.
Monica would outlast her. Not just because she was younger, but because she had what it took to survive in an ever-changing world.
“I’m glad to see that Abigail is happy and healthy.”
Isabella did not move as she settled into the shadows of the hallway. “Why wouldn’t she be? She’s been with me the entire time, and I only care about what’s best for my darling granddaughter.”
Monica pushed Abigail behind her. She caught a glimpse of confusion on her little girl’s face and thought it might be best to sequester her away from this, but where? With whom? Monica trusted Nina and the crew enough to keep them alive while they were in Thailand, but could Monica trust any of them withjusther daughter?
“You took her without permission. You know what that means, yes?”
“Without whose permission? Abby, didn’t I ask you if you wanted to go to France?”
Monica didn’t look at her daughter. All she heard was, “Yeah…”
“Yes,sweetheart. The word isyes.”
“Yes, Grandma. I wanted to go.”
As Abigail slipped her hand into Monica’s, it took everything within the mother to not crush the daughter’s fingers in a desperate urge to keep her close. “Neither Henry nor I discussed this with you. I have a feeling it’s because you knew we would not permit it. Abigail hasn’t been in school for over a week.” Yes, she could focus on that while Abigail was with her. She knew how important school was. How many times had Monica explained to her daughter that school was where she learned things she could not acquire at home? Where she made friends? Learned different viewpoints and learned aboutherselfas well? There were nights when Abigail cried because she didn’t want to go to school the next day. She missed her family. Math was tough. Some of the kids in the school were not nice. Why did first-grade demand so much of her?
Indeed, a sojourn to Europe and Asia with her grandma, who doted on her like a princess, was probably exactly what a girl like Abigail had wanted.
Or maybe Monica told herself so she didn’t have to think about Abigail missing her, wanting to talk to her, having no one but her grandmother around…
My daughter has no idea what was in her future.Monica bit back her tears again. There could be no weakness here. She was in charge of the family.Shewas Lady Warren.
“I’m taking Abigail home with me. Back to America.” Monica announced that to everyone who listened, including Lily Beaumont, who doubtlessly stood outside the door to the guesthouse and prayed to whatever God she believed in that she would not be in trouble with any authorities. “I think you will do well to not come around Warren Manor for a long while, Isabella. You are no longer welcome there.”
She expected her mother-in-law to fight her. To raise her voice. To use her colorful vocabulary that was half erudite rhetoric and half“I think that was a slur? I’m not sure.”Instead, Isabella stepped out of the shadows, slowly revealing that whatever she thought of Monica, it didn’t matter. This had never been about her. Isabella was beyond that now.
“You would kick me out of my own home, Monica?”
Abigail said nothing but clung to her mother.I feel her questions burning through my skin.Until that day, Abigail had been having the time of her life with her grandma. She was too young to understand the details, but plenty old enough to understand thatthis was bad.
“It hasn’t been your home for many years. You made that clear when you moved out to Montana and only deigned to return to New England to meet with your friends and let them fawn over you. You only return when you want to be Lady Warren.”
“What makes you think I ever stopped?”
Monica furrowed her brows. “Titles like that don’texist,Isabella. Certainly not in America. All these years, and you think people called you Lady Warren to show you deference? To bepolite? No, they were laughing behind your back. You acted like the ice queen who blessed the world with her frosty exterior. But unlike a real winter, you never gave way to spring. You only sought to kill the good beneath your feet.”
“My, such a poetic take-down of your mother-in-law. What would Abigail think if she understood what was happening here?”
“Whatishappening here, Isabella?”
“Oh, I think you know, Monica.” Isabella played with her wedding ring, a simple gold band with three diamonds set deep into the metal.Like her. Like me.Two diamonds mined, cut and hammered into the illustrious band that were their unique lives. Who was the third? Monica pushed Abigail farther behind her, hoping her daughter wouldn’t ever have to play these dangerous games.God help whoever she marries one day…This was the mess a future spouse married into.
“There are many things I think. None of which I desire to say in front of my daughter.”
“Abigail was having a wonderful time with her Grandma, weren’t you, sweetie?”
Isabella’s attempt to make eye contact with her granddaughter led Abigail to glance around her mother’s body. Monica knew better than to let that side conversation continue.
“Until she is eighteen, you will never be alone with my daughter again.” Monica grabbed Abigail’s hand. “Come on, Abby. You’re going home with your mother.”
“Wait!”
