“Isabell, you have been neglectful. Both of my daughters require greater help! You will not leave the sewing table until every last garment is complete! Do you understand?”

Isabell clenched her jaw, unable to hold back any longer. “I am not sure who you expected to cook then. Unless, you all plan to lose a little weight as well?”

Her step-sisters gasped at such a curt reply. Her step-mother, however, was not so amused.

“How dare you! Talking back to the woman who has provided for you all these years? Just what makes you think that is acceptable, Isabell? It makes me sick to think you actually walk around here with such pride! Do you have no sense of shame? You are nothing more than a useless, penniless, and worthless maid!”

“Oh, really? I am all those things? Then what does that make the lot of you, who can neither cook, clean, dress, undress, or even control your own manners on a daily basis?” she shot back.

Isabell braced herself for whatever was to come next, as her family narrowed in on her. However, due to some odd stroke of luck, the bell to the front door began to ring.

“Is that the post again!?” Lucille gasped.

“Hurry up and get the door!” her step-mother hissed, allowing her to escape.

Isabell immediately turned and took to the stairs, ever grateful to be pulled away before any punishment could be inflicted. Although, she knew this interruption would only spare her momentarily.

“Heartwell residence!” she greeted, swinging the door open breathlessly.

Isabell froze, immeasurably confused by what her eyes were met with. Standing there on the steps was not the postman, like she had assumed, but instead a finely dressed gentlewomen. She had long dark hair, bright green eyes, and clothes that were fit for a queen.

“Pardon me, Mi’lady!” Isabell apologized, quickly bowing before the unknown lady.

The woman cocked her head to the side, examining her with a look of horror. Isabell blushed, wondering if she was perhaps the ugliest servant this lady had ever seen.

“I-Isabell?” the woman gasped with shock, looking her over again.

She lifted her head up, surprised to have her name known. “Yes, ma’am?”

The woman took a brief moment to regain her composure. “Oh, goodness, that is unexpected.”

Isabell bowed her head. She honestly had no idea what was going on…

“Oh no, my dear, raise your head! My name is Ophelia. I trust you receive my letter two days ago?”

Her head snapped up. Ophelia? Letter? Was this the woman who claimed to be her aunt?

“You…you!?” she stuttered.

The woman snickered. “Yes, I am your distant aunt Ophelia. And I have come today to hear your answer on my proposal. Have you considered my message?”

Isabell shook her head. No, no this could not be so! That letter had just been a joke! A cruel prank! A silly and useless letter that could not possibly be true!

“I apologize for contacting you so suddenly like this my dear, especially since your father never wished for us to meet. But considering the circumstances, and the fact that he had passed away some time ago, I thought it fair to give the choice to you on the manner of our becoming acquainted,” the woman continued.

“Although,” she quickly added. “If I had known you lived like this, I would have come sooner. I may not be your legal Godmother, but I still do not approve of this. Look at you! Dressed in rags like a maid…”

Isabell bit her lip. No, this still must be fake. There was no way her father would have denied her an acquaintance with blood relatives! Not when he planned to leave her in the hands of her step-mother and sisters!

“You…who are you really!?” she demanded with angry tears.

The woman’s face fell with pity. “Oh, my dear, look at you! Come now, let me in so we can-”

“Isabell who is it? Who is there? What is taking you so long!?” Rachel bellowed, coming down the stairs to meet them.

Isabell glanced back to see her family pausing on the steps.

“Isabell, who is that there?” her step-mother asked with suspicion.

Before she could reply, or even demand her own answers, Ophelia suddenly walked passed her to stand within the corridor. “I am Ophelia, your late husband’s younger sister. Perhaps you have heard of me?”

Her step-mother winced at the woman’s words. “And? What are you doing here exactly?” she snapped, recognizing the name and explanation it seems.

Isabell felt her jaw drop. She couldn’t believe it. This woman, this stranger whom she had never met before today, she wasn’t lying. She really was her aunt!

“I am here to gather up my niece, of course. Isabell is to come and live at my family’s estate from now on,” Ophelia stated.

Her step-mother’s face flushed with anger. “Excuse me? Just who do you think you are?”

Isabell turned to the woman, surprised by her bold claim as well. Although, the lady did not look bothered by their shock in the slightest.

“Who am I? Why, dear Baroness, I am Duchess Ophelia, wife of Duke Norrington. I am woman who, by all respects, outranks you in every possible way. In case you have forgotten, a duke and duchess rank only lower than the royal line itself, while a baroness is only just above a peasant. I think the proper question in this case is, who do you think you are?” she replied with an air of absolute authority and command.

Isabell nearly snorted with laughter. She really liked this woman, aunt or not!

“How dare you! Isabell is still my step-daughter! You cannot just come in and snatch her away! I will appeal to the courts if you do!” Her step-mother hissed with rage.

The duchess only smiled. “Technically, Isabell belongs to herself, since she too outranks you.”

Everyone froze.

“Isabell, outrank me!?” her step-mother exclaimed.

Ophelia laughed. “Oh yes, immensely so! My brother may have been denied his title when he went off and married a woman against father’s wishes, but the same is not true for his offspring. Our father wrote in his will that any children produced by my brother could still make a claim to their title, if ever they came back to the family. Meaning madam, that Isabell is a lady.”

Her step-mother stood there, looking dumbfounded, while her sisters became red with fury. Isabell covered her mouth to hide the gasp that escaped.

No, it couldn’t be.

It couldn’t be true!

Her, a real lady!?