After spending the past few days with Rosalind Green, Phoebe Huxley had come to understand the little enchantress a bit better. She knew Rosalind wasn't actually a sly seductress—far more decent than that wench Phoenix Golding—but she was genuinely useless. Phoebe truly couldn't fathom how Rosalind's parents had managed to raise a perfectly good girl into someone so helpless. And to top it off, some man had actually been willing to marry her.
Then again, Adrian Hawthorne's father was no prize either. If he were dead, that would be one thing, but if he was still alive, he was an even bigger scoundrel—worse than Rosalind Green.
"Miss Green, my sister-in-law is just very blunt. She didn't mean it that way, so please don't take it to heart," Phoebe Thorne said, quickly trying to console her, worried that Rosalind might take it too hard.
Rosalind Green nodded, tears streaming down her face. "Miss Huxley isn't wrong. I'm not a good mother. I'm so useless."
