Chapter 11

The Westfield Children's Home was a sprawling Victorian building set back from the road, its grounds well-maintained with bright flower beds and a modern playground. As they pulled up to the entrance, Adaline felt a familiar warmth spread through her chest. This place had always been her sanctuary.

"I'll only be an hour or so," she told Martin.

"Take your time, Ms. Adaline. Mr. Justin didn't specify when to return."

Inside, the home bustled with afternoon activity. Children's laughter echoed down hallways decorated with colorful artwork. Adaline signed in at the reception desk, explaining she was a former volunteer.

"We're always happy to have extra hands," the receptionist smiled. "The younger children are in the east wing playroom if you'd like to help there."

Adaline found herself sitting cross-legged on a carpet surrounded by toddlers, helping a small girl with pigtails build a tower of blocks. The child giggled as Adaline made exaggerated expressions when the tower wobbled.

"Higher!" the little girl demanded.

"Let's see how high we can go," Adaline agreed, carefully placing another block.

She didn't notice the elegant older woman who had entered the room, watching her with curious eyes. The woman observed silently for several minutes before approaching.

"You have a natural way with children," she commented.

Adaline looked up, startled. The woman before her was impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, her silver hair swept into a sophisticated chignon. Despite her advanced years, she carried herself with the poise of someone accustomed to authority.

"Thank you," Adaline smiled. "I've always loved spending time with them."

"I'm Grecia Westfield," the woman extended her hand. "I oversee operations here."

Adaline's eyes widened slightly as she shook the offered hand. "Westfield? As in—"

"Yes," Grecia nodded. "The family foundation funds this home, among other charitable endeavors." Her keen eyes studied Adaline. "I don't believe we've met before, Ms...?"

"Adaline," she supplied. "Adaline Watson." She had decided in the courthouse to reclaim her maiden name, shedding 'Anderson' along with everything else Michael represented.

Before Grecia could respond, Martin appeared in the doorway. He straightened immediately upon seeing the older woman.

"Mrs. Westfield," he said respectfully. "I didn't expect to see you here today."

Grecia's eyebrows rose. "Martin? What brings you here?" Her gaze shifted between the driver and Adaline. "Do you two know each other?"

Martin cleared his throat. "Ms. Adaline is staying at the main house. She's Mr. Justin's new cook."

"Cook?" Grecia repeated, her expression unreadable as she turned back to Adaline. "How interesting. Justin didn't mention hiring new staff."

Adaline felt her cheeks warm under the woman's scrutiny. There was something in Grecia Westfield's gaze that seemed to see right through her.

"It's a temporary arrangement," Adaline explained, suddenly feeling the need to clarify. "Mr. Westfield was kind enough to offer me accommodation while I... sorted out some personal matters."

Understanding dawned in Grecia's eyes. "I see." She smiled, the expression transforming her austere features. "Well, any friend of my son's is welcome here. Will you be joining us for dinner this evening? I usually dine with Justin on Thursdays."

Adaline froze, pieces clicking into place. Grecia wasn't just the overseer of the children's home—she was Justin's mother. And apparently, she had no idea who Adaline really was or why she was staying in her son's house.

"I—" Adaline began, unsure how to navigate this unexpected situation.

"Mrs. Westfield," Martin interjected smoothly, "Ms. Adaline had a rather exhausting day at court. Perhaps another time would be better?"

Grecia's eyes sharpened with interest. "Court?"

"My divorce was finalized today," Adaline said quietly, deciding honesty was the best approach. "It's been... a difficult process."

Grecia's expression softened. "My dear, I'm sorry to hear that." She placed a gentle hand on Adaline's arm. "Perhaps dinner would be too much. But I hope you'll join us another time. Justin rarely brings anyone new into our circle."

As they prepared to leave, the little girl with pigtails tugged at Adaline's skirt. "Will you come back tomorrow?" she asked, her large brown eyes hopeful.

Adaline knelt down. "I'll try my very best," she promised, her heart melting at the child's smile.

As Martin drove them away, Adaline couldn't help but wonder what Justin would think about her meeting his mother—and how much more complicated her already tangled situation had just become.

****

The atmosphere in the dining room was elegant yet warm—polished silverware gleamed under soft lighting, and the rich aroma of roasted lamb filled the air. Grecia Westfield, seated at the head of the table, radiated gracious hospitality that put Adaline at ease despite her initial nervousness.

"Tell me about your family, dear," Grecia asked, taking a sip of wine.

Adaline hesitated, then decided on honesty. "My father passed away when three years ago. He was... everything to me. My mother," she paused, choosing her words carefully, "has always been more concerned with status and appearances than happiness."

Grecia's eyes softened with understanding. "And your marriage?"

"It was arranged, essentially," Adaline admitted. "My mother pushed for it. Michael seemed charming at first, but..." She took a deep breath. "He became cruel when I couldn't give him children. Though I don't believe the issue was with me—he refused to be tested himself."

"Men and their pride," Grecia said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry you endured that."

"Thank you," Adaline replied, grateful for the woman's sympathy—so different from her own mother's coldness.

"I understand you're quite skilled in the kitchen," Grecia changed the subject smoothly. "Martin mentioned you've been cooking for Justin."

Adaline smiled. "Yes, I've always loved cooking. It was something my father and I shared."

"Wonderful!" Grecia's eyes lit up. "My daughter Isabelle is returning from Paris next week. She's been studying fashion design there. We're planning a welcome home celebration." She reached across the table, touching Adaline's hand. "Would you consider preparing the food for the party? Nothing too elaborate, just family and close friends."

"I'd be honored," Adaline agreed, feeling a genuine warmth toward the older woman.

As the evening drew to a close, Martin appeared to drive Adaline back to Justin's house. Grecia walked her to the door, then hesitated.

"Adaline, before you go," she said, her voice lowered. "I have something to discuss with you. A proposition, if you will."

Adaline felt a flutter of uncertainty. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no," Grecia assured her. "It's just... I've been watching you this evening. You're kind, intelligent, and well-mannered. Exactly the sort of woman I've always hoped Justin would find."

Adaline's pulse quickened. "Mrs. Westfield, I—"

"Please, hear me out," Grecia said gently. "Justin is nearly forty and shows no signs of settling down. The Westfield name needs an heir, and people are beginning to talk." She sighed. "I know this is sudden, especially given your recent divorce, but I wonder if you might consider entering into a contract marriage with my son."

Adaline's eyes widened in shock. "Mrs. Westfield—"

"I understand your concerns about children," Grecia continued. "But that's easily solved. You could adopt a baby, and we would present the child as yours. No one would question it."

"I... I'm sorry," Adaline stammered, finding her voice. "But I don't think I can accept such an offer. And I doubt Mr. Justin would be comfortable with this arrangement."

Grecia smiled knowingly. "My son respects my judgment. And I believe you two would be well-suited."

"I'm truly flattered," Adaline said carefully. "But after everything I've been through, I need time. And this is... a lot to consider."

"Of course," Grecia patted her hand. "Think about it. I can provide you with anything you might need. Security, stability, a position in society that your mother could never achieve despite her scheming."

Adaline felt a chill at how accurately Grecia had assessed her situation. She simply nodded, unsure how to respond.

"Don't answer now," Grecia said, walking her to the door. "Just consider it. The opportunity remains open."

As Martin drove her back through the quiet streets, Adaline gazed out the window, her mind reeling. How had her life become so complicated? And what would Justin say if he knew about his mother's proposition?