Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Mrs. Ferguson was the last to step up to Walter. He looked so much older than her-lined face, tired eyes. They exchanged a quick look, nodded, and that was it. No words, no emotion. It was almost like they were strangers.

No one else said much either. Some people paid their respects in silence, others offered Simon a few quiet words of comfort. The whole thing dragged on for hours -four, maybe five-before someone finally suggested they all head to the old house for dinner that night.

Tara had stayed close to Mrs. Ferguson the whole time. When she heard the dinner plans, she leaned in and whispered, "Mrs. Ferguson, do you mind if I go talk to Dylan for a bit?"

Mrs. Ferguson smiled and gave her hand a gentle pat. "Of course, dear. Go on."

All eyes followed Tara as she walked toward Dylan. Simon, watching from the sidelines, wore a look that was half mocking, half smug. Everyone knew why Tara was here. Grandma brought her along as a not-so-subtle message: as far as Mrs. Ferguson was concerned, Tara was the only woman worthy of being Dylan's wife. Clara? Marriage certificates? Didn't mean a thing.

In the Ferguson family, Dylan was never one to listen to Walter. The only person he ever really listened to was Mrs. Ferguson.

Tara wore a simple black dress, handmade by the same artisan who'd crafted Mrs. Ferguson's outfit. She stopped in front of Dylan, her posture calm and open, and held out her hand.

"Long time no see," she said.

Dylan didn't even look up, didn't reach for her hand. Just a quiet, "Mm."

Tara didn't miss a beat. "Maybe we could have dinner sometime? I haven't seen Nicholas and the others in ages."

He just gave another noncommittal, "Mm."

Tara smiled, a real one. She wasn't traditionally beautiful-no softness or dramatic features—but she had a confidence and warmth about her that made people feel she belonged anywhere. The kind of woman the older generation loved: steady, poised, like she could hold her own no matter what.

It was the kind of beauty that filled a room, made you think of old money and good fortune.

"Alright then. Next time, I'll tell everyone about my adventures abroad. Got a lot of stories to share," she said, her tone light.

Dylan nodded, about to motion for Aiden to wheel him away. But just then, Tara stepped a little closer and lowered her voice.

"How's your health?" she asked, soft but sincere. "Any better?"

He paused, just for a second, then glanced up at her.

Tara's eyes were full of concern. "Last time I saw you, you weren't... yourself."

He cut her off, voice flat. "I'm fine."

She let out a quiet sigh of relief, smiling more genuinely now. "Good. You really scared me last time. Well, I'll get going."

Tara turned and walked back to Mrs. Ferguson, who gave her hand another affectionate pat and looked over at Dylan.

"Dylan, you should come to the manor for dinner tonight," she said kindly.

No one else in the family said a word. Everyone knew Mrs. Ferguson had rushed back mostly because of Ada, but it was obvious her real focus was Dylan's marriage.

Just as quickly as she'd arrived, Mrs. Ferguson was gone again. Walter went with her, Tara too. Being in the same ear as both of them said everything about Tara's position in the family-no one else could do that. śwnovel

The rest of the family's attention shifted to Dylan. Someone looked like they wanted to offer congratulations, but a friend

stopped them with a shake of the

head. Everyone knew Dylan hated

attention, especially from his

so-called social network

A sharp laugh cut through the crowd-Simon, still holding a stick of incense.noveldrama

"Congrats, Dylan. Barely married and already headed for divorce court."

His tone was pure poison. For a younger cousin, Simon had no sense of respect.

Aiden started pushing Dylan toward the exit, but Dylan didn't even blink at the jab. He just tossed back, "Clara's waiting for me at home, so I'll skip the party."

Simon's face twisted. He snapped the incense in his hand clean in half.

The rest of the family looked

stunned. Some had heard rumors about Dylan marrying Clara, but nobody believed it. It was too far-fetched. Clara was the reason Dylan was in a wheelchair in the first place. No matter how forgiving he wás, no one thought he'd ever marry her-he'd never even liked her.

But now, hearing it straight from Dylan, everyone realized it was true. It really was

Clara.

Why her, of all people?

How did those two end up together?