She reached into her designer handbag and took out an embossed invitation envelope.

“He told me he reached out to you out of simple charity,” Margaret said.

“We want you to know there’s no bitterness on our side about your inability to give Ethan an heir.”

The woman next to Margaret winced a little and looked away toward the pastry cart.

“The past is settled, Margaret,” I said, keeping my back straight.

“Yes, and missing out on motherhood is a heavy cross for any woman to bear,” Margaret said, patting my arm twice before turning back to her council members.

“Do come to Aspen if you need a warm meal on Christmas Eve, Grace.”