Chapter 162 - Hundred And Sixty Two

Words : 1045 Updated : Sep 29th, 2025

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." "Okay then," Elena said, a look of deep satisfaction settling on her features. "Go home. I am tired. I need to gather my strength to properly scold Amber and Lyra when they get home, for leaving an old woman all alone for the entire day." She said it with a gruff tone, but Delia could see the playful twinkle in her eyes. The truth was, it had all been part of a quiet, clever plan. Delia had wanted to be alone with Elena, to truly talk to her, so she had asked Lyra and Amber for their help. They had happily obliged, creating excuses to be away from the house for the day, leaving the path clear for the two most important women in Eric’s life to finally understand one another. Delia smiled and curtsied deeply. "Okay, Grandmother. Have a good and restful night." Mr. Rye, who had been waiting patiently by the carriage, opened the door for her as she entered. As he closed the door, he bowed respectfully to the Dowager Duchess. "Your Grace." "You keep up the good work, Rye," Elena replied with an approving nod. "You take good care of them." "Certainly, Your Grace," Mr. Rye bowed again, and then went to the driver’s seat. As the carriage began to move, rolling smoothly over the gravel of the courtyard, Delia put her head out the open window, a wide, happy smile on her face. She waved her hand enthusiastically. "Goodbye, Grandmother!" Elena watched as the carriage began to recede down the long, tree-lined drive. A memory, from the second time she collapsed, the afternoon she told Eric to come back to Carson Textile, came back to her. A memory of a private conversation she had had with her younger grandson. ~ FLASHBACK~ Philip had already been dismissed from the room in a storm of his own sullen expression. Elena was resting in her bed, the chaos of that afternoon having taken its toll on her. Eric stood beside the armchair beside her bed, his own expression a mixture of guilt and worry. "Have a seat," Elena had told him, her voice weak but firm. She had looked at him, at this grandson who was so dear to her, and she had to understand. "Why did you do it, Eric?" she had asked. "Why a marriage contract?" Eric sat down and was silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on his own hands, clasped tightly in his lap. "Did I nag you too much about getting married?" Elena had continued, her voice a little softer now. "Well, I suppose I must blame your mother in that aspect. She was the one who was truly desperate for a daughter-in-law." Eric had finally spoken, his voice a low murmur. "Mother didn’t..." "I am not done speaking, young man," Elena had sparked, a flash of her old, formidable self returning. Eric had immediately kept quiet. "Or was it about money?" she had asked, her voice now full of a weary disappointment. "Were you trying to keep your mother’s family connections for your business so badly that you would resort to something like this?" "Grandmother, you know me better than that," Eric had replied, finally looking up at her, his eyes full of a deep, honest hurt. "If it was only because of that, there are a hundred other, simpler ways to convince my mother to help me. I would not even have had the thought to create a contract." "Then why, Eric?" she had asked, her own voice now a plea for the truth. "Why in heaven’s name did you do it?" "Because I wanted to keep Delia by my side," he had replied, his voice a raw, simple confession. "By any means necessary." Surprised by the raw emotion in his answer, Elena had asked, "What?" "When I met Delia that night at the garden," he had explained, a soft, reminiscent smile touching his lips, "when I stared into her eyes as she so boldly took my cigar from between my lips..." He had chuckled softly. "In that moment, I found a home. A feeling of home that I have been looking for my entire life. She was a quiet, safe place in a world that has always been so loud and so demanding." He had looked at his grandmother, his eyes now shining with a fierce, protective love. "So please, forgive us, Grandma. The contract was a foolish, clumsy beginning. But my feelings for her are real." ~ FLASHBACK ENDS ~ Elena was still staring at the now-distant, receding carriage. She chuckled to herself, a soft, warm sound in the cool evening air, and then she smiled. "I have spent my whole life trying to make every household in this kingdom happy with the works of my own two hands," she said to the empty courtyard. "And yet, I could not even make my own grandson truly happy." She shook her head, a feeling of deep, profound peace settling over her. "But he says that you are his home now, Delia Carson. How can an old woman possibly be against that?" She smiled again, and then she turned and entered the grand, quiet house, her heart finally, truly, at ease.

Chapter 162 - Hundred And Sixty Two

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