Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 369

Isadora returned to the house that evening to find the dining table set with a comforting spread: a pot of homemade chicken soup, sautéed shrimp with broccoli, perfectly seared salmon, and salad.

The fragrance filled the air, warm and inviting.

Eleanor emerged from the kitchen, removing her apron and handing it off to the waiting housekeeper.

"Come on. Dinner's ready," she called.

Mother and daughter sat together in the dining room, sharing the meal in companionable silence.

Eleanor ladled a generous portion of soup into a bowl and set it in front of Isadora. Throughout dinner, she would glance over at her daughter with an unreadable expression, as if there was something she wanted to say.

Even someone less perceptive than Isadora would have picked up on it.

"Mom, is there something you want to talk about?" Isadora finally asked.

Eleanor set down her fork, thinking for a moment about how to begin.

"Last night, a friend of mine saw Nanette at the Grand Regent Hotel."

Isadora's mind jumped to the excuse she'd given Eleanor the night before—that she was going to Nanette's to avoid the thunderstorm. Apparently, that little white lie hadn't gone unnoticed.

Eleanor's worried eyes met her daughter's. "Isadora, where were you last night?"

Isadora pressed her lips together. "I…"

Eleanor frowned. "You were with Mr. Fitzgerald, weren't you?"

Realizing there was no way to hide it, Isadora nodded sheepishly.

"I knew it. You've been acting strange lately. Why are you getting mixed up with him again?"

"Isadora, you promised we'd leave Capitolion together."

Isadora answered quietly, "We are leaving."

"Then why are you seeing him now? Are you having second thoughts?"

Isadora shook her head softly.

Eleanor sighed, her tone growing more earnest. "If you really want to leave this city, you have to be decisive. Cut things off with him cleanly."

Isadora tightened her grip on her fork, knuckles turning white.

"But if you don't want to go, and he keeps stringing you along, and you're pregnant…" Eleanor's voice trembled slightly, anger and worry mixing. "The Fitzgeralds haven't said a word, haven't even reached out—what does that make you?"

"We Vaughans may not be much, but we're not nobody. We can't let them treat us like this."

The more Eleanor spoke, the more upset she became, remembering how she'd once gone to beg Deanna Fitzgerald for understanding, only to be dismissed and thrown out.

Isadora put down her fork, her voice barely above a whisper. "He said he'd marry me."

"But that old Fitzgerald matriarch will never allow it. Even if you marry in, who knows what life you'll have?"

Isadora bit her lip, looking at her mother. "I trust Victor. He'll protect me."

Eleanor fell silent, searching her daughter's face.

Isadora's dark lashes fluttered as she gently placed a hand over her belly.

"I want to believe him one more time," she said softly.

To believe in Victor's promises. To trust the tenderness buried deep in his eyes.

Eleanor's sharp gaze lingered on Isadora. Her voice, unusually gentle, broke the silence. "Are you sure?"

The word "sure" hovered on Isadora's lips, but she couldn't quite say it.

Eleanor sighed. "We haven't left yet. Take this month to think it through. If you truly want to be with him, I'm not some old prude. I only want what's best for you. But I want the Fitzgeralds to come here properly and ask for your hand, to do things the right way."

With that, Eleanor stood and left the room.