Chapter 509

In that moment, Marguerite struggled to steady her emotions. She had just discovered that the mother and son she had helped years ago were none other than Frederick and Jocelyn. How had she failed to recognize them all this time?

What touched her most was the realization that her small act of kindness, something she thought of as an inconsequential gesture, had stayed with Frederick for so long.

“When did you know that the girl, the one you were looking for, was me?” she asked.

His gaze turned distant, as if he were speaking of someone else’s life. “Three years ago, the day we fell apart.”

It was the same day her grandmother was laid to rest-the day Frederick had intended to confess his feelings to her!

Marguerite cursed the timing of her knowledge.

Had she known earlier that Frederick had been searching for her, had she known of his intentions, she would never have gone to the Winston estate to meet Maurice.

the identity of the mysterious

with Frederick, even if it meant fleeing with him, far from the comforts of Stonebridge

second chances, and her regrets

as she spoke, “Why didn’t you tell

to tell you everything,” he said.

Marguerite was not just to acknowledge the debt

was the woman from that passionate night-a question left unanswered as the woman’s face

could voice his doubts, Marguerite would reveal something far more consequential-something that would alter the course of

hope; if

believing she must’ve been manipulated by Maurice or hiding some unspeakable

and he was left

it, the sadder she became. She hadn’t realized the significance she held in his heart, and

lift of her face, her eyes brimming with tears and sincerity, she

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