"Mother," Jessamyn began, her voice wavering slightly.
"Jessamyn," she said curtly, her tone cold enough to freeze the air between them. "You look well…That's a nice color on you."
Jessamyn straightened her shoulders, trying to maintain her composure despite the sharp sting of her mother-in-law's words. She knew she would not like to see her wearing colors when her son was dead. "I'm here to buy a gift," she explained, though she knew it wouldn't soften the Dowager's disapproval.
"A gift?" the Dowager Countess echoed; her voice laden with skepticism. "For whom, pray tell?"
"For Ethan's ladylove," Jessamyn replied, hoping to defuse the tension with a straightforward answer.
The Dowager Countess's eyes narrowed further. "Ethan's ladylove," she repeated slowly as if weighing the words. "And how is it that you find yourself in such a position?"
