As evening settled, casting a soft, purple glow over the manicured gardens of the Carson estate, Delia and the Dowager Duchess Elena came out of the grand entrance door.
"I can come and visit again, right, Grandmother?" Delia asked as they got to the last step of the wide stone stairs in the courtyard. The word 'Grandmother' now felt natural, a comfortable fit.
Elena stopped and looked at her, her sharp, intelligent eyes now holding a genuine, sincere curiosity. She asked a question that was simple, but held the weight of the entire world. "Do you love my Eric? Do you even like him? I want you to be sincere with me, please."
Delia smiled, a true, unburdened expression that lit up her whole face. She nodded. "Yes," she said, her voice clear and steady. "Yes, I do. A whole lot."
"And how do you think Eric feels about you?" Elena asked, her gaze still searching Delia's.
"I believe he feels the same way," Delia replied with a quiet confidence. "Or even more so, probably."
