The Offer

Isabel didn't sleep on the threat. She used it.

She found Josephine alone the next evening in the small library — no Perry Nash this time, no Sebastian, just the old woman by the fire with a book she wasn't reading and a decanter she hadn't touched.

"I know about the debt," Isabel said, closing the door behind her. No point pretending anymore; Perry Nash had made that clear enough. "Forty-one million, give or take. Liens on two houses. I know about Harlow Meridian, too — though I'll admit, I'm still working out what that one means."

Josephine didn't look up from the fire. "Sit down, Isabel."

"I'd rather stand."

"Suit yourself." A long pause, the fire popping. "What is it you want?"

Isabel had rehearsed this in the car, in the mirror, in the shower — and still her voice shook slightly on the number. "Two million. Before the wedding. Quietly, out of whatever that trust is actually for. And I keep my mouth shut about all of it — the debt, the vault, whatever Harlow Meridian is really doing — to Sebastian, to the papers, to the museum board. Forever."

"And if I say no?"

"Then the society pages get an anonymous tip about a family fortune that's been a lie for years, and your grandson finds out his inheritance is forty-one million dollars of nothing, from a stranger's phone call instead of from you. I don't think that's the version you want, Mrs. Kade."

Josephine finally turned from the fire, and Isabel braced for fury, for threats, for the cane rapping the floor in outrage.

Instead, the old woman studied her for a long moment with something that looked almost like satisfaction.

"Two million," Josephine repeated slowly, as if tasting the number. "Yes. I think that's fair. I think that's exactly fair."

Isabel blinked. "You're — agreeing?"

"I said sit down twice, dear. You should have listened the second time." Josephine reached for a small bell on the side table and rang it once. "Have Perry draw up the paperwork. We'll do this properly — bank transfer, signature, everything documented. I want no confusion later about what exactly was exchanged, and why."

Something about the word documented settled cold in Isabel's stomach, though she couldn't have said why.

"Fine," Isabel said. "Documented."

"Wonderful." Josephine smiled, and for the first time since Isabel had met her, the smile reached all the way to her eyes. "I've been waiting eight months for you to ask."