“Rosalind, please — let us not air private family matters in front of society.”
“Society?” Rosalind gave a sad, bitter smile.
“How curious, Yvonne.
I’d have thought you’d be more concerned that your daughter humiliated an elderly widow in her sleep.”
Chapter 11 — The Velvet Box
Portia turned to Emerson, panic rising in her voice.
“She’s twisting everything!
That trust was for our future, our family—”
Edmund Pemberton spoke for the first time.
“The trust transfer no longer exists.”