The Duke arrived with a dying baby and found a mother weeping for her child.

 

In the countryside of Esja, Andalusia, in the year of 1885, Isabel Romero Valdés, a 24-year-old woman years marked by the recent loss of her newborn son, lives as a recluse in his parents’ house, considered  for a community that confuses tragedy with divine punishment. Diego Guzmán, her fiancé, broke the commitment to everyone in the Plaza de la Iglesia Mayor, stating that she was marked by death and never I would conceive healthy children. The doors of the society was closed one by one, the invitations ceased, glances they deviated. But what neither Isabel nor cruel thing you could imagine is that a rainy June dawn would bring a desperate man to his door, carrying in his arms not only a baby dying, but also the last chance of redemption for two broken hearts.

Share in the comments from where follow this story and say what more moves your heart in a romance of era. Prepare for a narrative packed with transforming pain, maternal love that transcends blood, seconds opportunities and dignity regained, where a considerate woman You will discover that your greatest tragedy had the gift of saving not only one life, but to reconstruct two destinies.

The heavy aroma of the olives still greens mixed with the smell of earth humid that June brought to the countryside of Esija, sneaking through the cracks of the closed windows of the house Rosemary. Her daughter woke up early, like every city whose wealth was born from the olive groves that climbed the slopes in endless rows.

But on the small property of the Romero family, on the side of the road that led to the main church, the silence weighed like a shroud on the alive. Isabel Romero Valdés woke up always before the sun, not because I had urgent tasks, but because the dream had become the territory of nightmares His 24 years seemed to carry the weight of entire decades his hands, once agile with the needle and the hoop, who gave him praise and commissions the whole town, now trembling at the hold the cup of black coffee that your mother, Doña Carmen Romero, left in the table next to the bed. The room that one day it would be prepared with so much love to receive the baby, with the cradle of light pine that his father built, embroidered raw cotton diapers with small flowers, the wool shawl white that she wove herself during the 9 months of waiting, remained untouched, the door always closed, a mausoleum inside the house itself. Isabel had not entered there for three months, since that March morning in who carried a bundle in his arms too small, too quiet, too cold. His body still had the traces of a motherhood unfinished The milk that persisted in gushing out, filling her sore breasts every dawn, was compressed with bandages tight linen clothes that Doña Carmen It changed three times a day.

 in a ritual dumb with shared pain. The belly that I had so proudly gestated now hung limp under the thick cotton nightgown, souvenir physique of a broken dream. Elizabeth I spent my days sitting next to the living room window, hands on the lap, eyes fixed on the street clay land, where life went on indifferent to his tragedy.

 I saw at women going to the market with baskets in the arms, to the men mounted on their mules on the way to the haciendas, to the children running free in the sun implacable midday. And I also saw the looks, the looks They turned away when they recognized her in the window, the hurried whispers, the mothers who separated their daughters from each other side of the street as if misfortune was contagious. they said.

 The word came to him brought by the wind, fragmented in conversations that are not They cared about being discreet, marked for death, divine punishment for some hidden sin. The matrons of the town, that one day they asked him to embroider for Wedding rings, now they avoided even mention his name.

 The parish priest, who He had baptized her and given her the first communion, I looked away when she entered the church like if his presence desecrated the altar. Diego Guzmán, her fiance, was the first to abandon it. Tall, mustachioed well cared for and land owning family prosperous, he had promised to love her in joy and sadness, health and in illness.

But when Isabel left the house the midwife that March morning, the empty arms and stained dress blood and tears, found Diego in the door He did not hug her, he did not cry with She just said with a firm voice and eyes cold, “I can’t marry a woman who cannot bear living children. You are marked, Isabel, marked by death.

” And he rode off riding his chestnut horse without look back Three days later he announced his engagement to Elena Vidal, daughter ofwealthiest merchant in town, a 16 year old girl, healthy, no history, without blemish The wedding was scheduled for August. Isabel received the news as a stone is received with pain intense, but without surprise.

 The cruelty had learned. It was just another name for human nature when the fear made an appearance. His father, Don Antonio Valdés, a man simple who worked as a notary of the Town Council, there was aged 10 years in three months. Your shoulders, previously erect, now bowed under the weight of shame that it was not his, but that society had deposited on his home as own.

 Doña Carmen, strong woman who I had always had an answer for everything, now he just sighed. prepared chamomile teas that no one drank and He prayed endless rosaries, beads slipping through fingers calloused from kitchen work and sewing. The house, previously open to neighbors, friends who came to address together on Thursday afternoons, the compadres who visited the Sundays, had become a silent fortress The windows They remained closed even on days of scorching heat.

 The conversations They were reduced to the essential. The laughter, that sound that one day had filled the rooms are small but cozy had disappeared complete as if it had never existed. Isabel was not a woman who gave up easily to despair. There was Born strong, raised to work, accustomed to difficulties natural persons of those who did not belong to the great families in the region.

 but there were limits that not even force interior could penetrate and she had reached. Sitting next to that one window, day after day, it felt like a seed that had fallen on the ground stone, without the possibility of germination, destined to rot forgotten. What she didn’t know as she watched June’s dark clouds gather over the countryside of Esija, is that that rainy night would bring with it not the condemnation that everyone prophesied, but the redemption that not even she dared now to dream. The rain began as the night fell

late, in that sudden and violent way that June reserves for the Esija countryside. Thunder echoed among the mountains like war drums announcing a imminent battle. The wind whipped the trees, tearing off leaves and branches, transforming the clay street in a river dark mud. Isabel was at her place usual next to the living room window when he heard the first knocks on the door.

 They were not polite blows, the light touch of someone who asks permission to enter. They were desperate punches, urgent, accompanied by a voice male that screamed among the thunder. Open, please, open. My son is dying. Doña Carmen, who prepared the dinner in the kitchen, dropped the spoon of wood. Don Antonio, who read the Seville newspaper in the light of lamp, he got up scared.

 but it was Isabel who moved first. something in that voice, the absolute desperation, total surrender to death imminent, struck a chord within she who for three months had remained mute. It was the sound of same dread she had known, the fear of holding life in your arms that runs away and not being able to do anything.

She opened the door. The rain came in torrential, wetting the plank floor wide, bringing with them a man tall, soaked, in fine clothes, completely ruined by mud and the water. But it was not him whom Isabel saw first, went to the bundle he was carrying against the chest, protected as if it were the last sacred thing in the world.

 A small bundle wrapped in white cloth already stained, from where a cry came weak, broken, the cry of someone He no longer has the strength to scream. “My son,” said the man and his voice went bankrupt. “My son has had a high fever since yesterday, 15 days old. His mother passed away puerperal fever a week ago.

 No manages to suckle from no nurse. They have already brought four different women. He rejects them, vomits, cries until faint from exhaustion. The doctor has said that if you don’t feed soon, He will die before dawn. It was then that Isabel recognized him. Don Fernando Aguilar y Montoro, the marquis, like the people called him, direct descendant of the Andalusian nobility, owner of the largest olive farm in the Esja countryside, the hacienda enchanted She had seen him from afar sometimes, always impeccable in their

white linen suits, mounted on his Carthusian horse, surrounded by overseers respectful and ladies who disputed their attention, a man above her In every way imaginable, cradle, fortune, education, social position. But at that moment, soaked and desperate on the threshold of his humble home, with a dying baby in the arms, he was not a marquis at all.

He was just a terrified father.They said in the town, Don continued Fernando, dark eyes fixed on Isabel with an intensity that crossed They said you lost a baby recently, who still has, who still could. He couldn’t finish the sentence, no It was necessary. Isabel’s body already he responded before his mind will fully process the request.

 Your breasts, compressed under the bandages of linen, began to sting painfully. The milk, which three months ago, was only source of physical agony. I cried out for leave, to fulfill the purpose for the which had been created. Come in,” she said, and her voice she surprised herself by the firmness. “bring the child inside.” Mrs.

 Carmen He took a step forward, his face worry mask “Elizabeth, daughter, “You shouldn’t, mother,” Isabel interrupted. And there was something in his tone that made her woman fell silent immediately. “Bring clean towels, warm water and turn on more lamps in the kitchen. I will need light.

 Don Fernando staggered in, leaving a trail of water and mud through the soil that Doña Carmen always maintained impeccable, but no one cared. He He followed Isabel to the kitchen, where the heat from the wood stove created a cozy contrast to the storm outside, with hands that did not shake and This surprised her.

 Isabel took the baby of his arms. The attic was too much light, terrifyingly light. she He pushed aside the wet cloths and saw the small red face, little eyes closed tightly, mouth open in a silent cry of pure exhaustion His skin burned with fever, the tiny body trembled. How Is it called? Isabel asked while began to undress the baby from his wet clothes Miguel, answered Don.

Fernando, the voice hoarse. Miguel de Aguilar and Montoro. Isabel nodded. Mrs. Carmen brought a basin of water warm and clean towels. with movements precise, Isabel bathed the baby cleaning it from sweat and dirt, talking to him in a low voice all the time. Quiet, little, quiet, everything It’s okay, you’re going to be fine.

 Then, sitting in the rocking chair outside her grandmother, Isabel, untied her girdles that oppressed her breasts. The pain was immediate and intense when the milk It began to flow, staining her nightgown. But it was a different pain, a pain with purpose. He brought the baby closer, guiding the tiny mouth to her breast left.

 For one terrifying moment, Miguel did not react, he just remained there, motionless, too hot, breathing hard. Isabel felt panic rising in his throat. No, not again. I wasn’t going to lose another child. No, that night. Come on, Miguel, he whispered. her. and his voice had been three months old contained pain, of wasted milk, of stolen purpose.

 Come on, my little one, I’m here, I won’t let you go. And then, as if those words contained some kind of ancient magic, baby He opened his mouth and began to suckle. Weak at first, then with more force. The silence that fell over the kitchen was the silence of one who witnesses a miracle. Don Fernando, still standing, hands clenched in fists next to his body, He let out a soy.

 Don Antonio, who watched from the door, he wiped his eyes discreetly. Doña Carmen He crossed himself and murmured a prayer of gratitude. Isabel just looked at the baby his arms. The little face before contracted of pain he began to relax. The crying had stopped. The little hands lowercase letters, which used to shake Desperate, they now clung to their nightgown, holding on as if clings to life.

 And the milk, that milk that three months ago was just a symbol of loss, he finally fulfilled his destiny. Tears ran down the face of Isabel, but she did not wipe them away. left let them fall, wetting the dark hair of Miguel, baptizing that moment with the salt of your pain transformed, because in that moment something inside her, who had been dead since March began to breathe again.

 Outside, the storm roared, but there inside, in that humble kitchen illuminated by lamps flickering, a baby was suckling and a woman was reborn. Miguel suckled until he fell asleep. The little body finally relaxed against Isabel’s chest. The fever still It burned, but it was no longer that heat desperate from before.

 Don Fernando had remained standing throughout the time, motionless as a statue, observing. When Isabel finally He looked up at him and saw that silent tears flowed down that aristocratic face marked by a three-day beard and dark circles depths of those who had not slept for weeks. He accepted it, said Don Fernando, and his voice was pure disbelief.

After four different nurses, 8 days trying, crying until fainting, he accepted it. Isabel accommodated the diapers around Miguel, protecting him from the cold that the rainy night He was hungry, he said simply. And sometimes, marquis, I don’t knowIt’s about who offers, it’s about When are we ready to accept? Don Fernando looked at her.

 So, he really looked at her for the first time. saw a young woman, brown hair dark hair collected in a simple bun, faces without ornaments, but with features delicate, almond-shaped eyes that carried an old sadness, but also a strength that he recognized because he felt it in itself. He saw the calloused hands of those who work, the simple dress of cotton already faded, the humble house around and also saw something else, dignity.

That rare quality that cannot be bought, It is not inherited, it just is. Lady Isabel, he said, and there was reverence in his voice. My son will need to breastfeed again few hours and then again and again. It only has 15 days. You will not be able to drink milk cow or artificial formulas weeks yet.

 And clearly he doesn’t accept no other woman. Isabel knew what It would come before he spoke. and his heart, that organ that had passed three months running only for biological obligation, it began to beat faster. “Come to the farm delighted,” said Don Fernando. And it wasn’t an order, it was a plea. a plea of a man who understood perfectly who was begging for mercy.

 “Be the Miguel’s wet nurse. Live there. Take care of him, feed him. I will pay any amount you set. Your family will have everything they need, but please don’t let my son die. The silence weighed. Doña Carmen and Don Antonio exchanged glances. The society of She is already considered her daughter  But if a single woman, without marriage, went to live on the hacienda of a recent widower, the languages biperinas would have fuel for years of slander.

The reputation of the Romeros, already stained, it would be completely destroyed. But Isabel looked at the sleeping baby in his arms, to that face that began to recover a healthy color, to the little hands that still clung to his nightgown and felt something he didn’t feel months ago. Purpose, reason for wake up, reason for the milk that your body insisted on producing. “I’ll go,” he said.

her, and her voice was firm. “Isabel, Mrs. Carmen took a step forward. daughter, Think about what they are saying about you. If you’re going to live alone with him, I won’t be Alone, mother, Isabel interrupted. I will be with a child who needs me, with a baby who will die if I don’t go. She looked directly to Don Fernando and I go with the clear conscience, because I know exactly why I’m going.

 To save a life, let them say what they want. I already They have been saying since March. Don Fernando He closed his eyes briefly and when opened there was something in them that they hadn’t before was. Gratitude, yes, but also respect. A kind of respect that is rarely had granted to any person any and much less to a woman of the class Esija worker.

 “Today”, he asked. “The rain is intense, but I have the carriage closed. can i protect her?” Isabel looked at her parents, He saw the fear in his mother’s eyes, but he also saw something else, understanding. Doña Carmen knew what it was like to have milk without a baby to feed. I knew the physical and emotional pain that caused.

 And maybe, just maybe, He understood that his daughter needed that more than that child. “Go, daughter mine,” said Doña Carmen, her voice embargoed, “go do what you were born to do to do.” An hour later, Isabel Romero Valdés got into the carriage of the Marquis of Aguilar with a small bundle of clothes and a sleepy baby in her arms.

The rain continued relentlessly, transforming roads into rivers of mud, but inside the carriage, protected by velvet curtains heavy, she felt strangely safe. Don Fernando was riding outside, refusing to enter the carriage. It would be inappropriate, he had said before ride. You come out of necessity, not by personal choice.

 Your reputation already It is compromised by the cruelty of others. I’m not going to make it worse with my carelessness. And it was like that on that rainy night June 1885 that Isabel Romero Valdés, the woman  of Esija, crossed the gates of iron from the Hacienda La Encantada, carrying not only a baby in your arms that I needed it, but also the first spark of hope I felt since he had buried his own son three months earlier.

 She didn’t know yet. But I was also going through towards a completely different life, towards a love that would grow from the deepest place improbable and towards a future that would transform not only his destiny, but the meaning of family, motherhood and belonging. The hacienda, the enchanted one revealed itself through the rain as a appearance of another world.

 the carriage crossed a long avenue of palm trees that curved under the wind. Then He passed through immense patios where the olives were processed in days normal, now covered by tarps held with stones. The farmhouse main one emerged in the distance, imposing construction of two floors in stone andlime, with wide galleries supported by columns, tall windows with lattices hardwood, French tile roof that shined in the rain.

 Elizabeth He felt his chest tighten. Not that one It was just a farm, it was an empire in miniature. How many day laborers would there be? worked there before abolition Was it still being discussed? How many lives there were sustained that wealth. And she, daughter from Escribano, raised in a house of three rooms, I was about to enter there like, what exactly? Employee, wet nurse, savior of a heir The carriage stopped in front of a wide staircase.

 Don Fernando came down quickly, covered in mud until knees, and opened the door. Beware of the steps,” he said, offering his hand. They are slippery. Isabel descended holding Miguel with one arm and accepting his support with the another. Don Fernando’s hand was large, calloused, despite its aristocratic position. Firm. He guided her to the porch.

covered, where they finally remained sheltered from the rain. The door main was opened before they they will call A middle-aged woman, dark skin, gray hair tied in a bow, dark dress and apron immaculately white. He opened his eyes wide open when seeing Don Fernando soaked and the unknown woman with the baby in arms Mr.

 Marquis, thank God you arrived good. She looked at Miguel sleeping and his hands went to his chest. The living child, Manuela, answered Don Fernando, and his voice broke a little. He breastfed. By breastfed for the first time in eight days. Manuela made the sign of the cross. The Blessed Virgin heard the prayers. Then he looked at Isabel with inquisitive, but not hostile.

 “The miss is Isabel Romero Valdés”, she introduced herself, maintaining an upright posture despite of tiredness. “I came to take care of the baby and he will do very well,” added Don Fernando firmly. “Manuela, prepare the room next to mine, the most close. Miss Isabel will need have easy access during the night.

 Yes Manuela considered that inappropriate, He didn’t show it, he just nodded and raised the staircase. Don Fernando guided Isabel through an imposing lobby. wide floor mahogany tables, period furniture, oil paintings on the walls that represented scenes rural and family portraits, spiders crystal that sparkled in the light of the lanterns They climbed the wide staircase The second floor hallway It had doors on both sides, all closed, except one at the end.

 Don Fernando guided her there. The room they found was spacious, with four-poster bed, hardwood wardrobe, dressing table with oval mirror, upholstered chairs and, to Isabel’s surprise, a huge window overlooking the olive groves, invisible now in the dead of night rainy, but certainly magnificent under the sun This room belonged to my sister,” said Don Fernando.

 She He married 5 years ago and lives in Seville. He hasn’t been here in a long time. Now it’s yours. Isabel meant that that was too much, that she didn’t I needed it so much that a room service would be enough. But before to speak, Manuela entered carrying clean towels, a jug of water cool and sleepwear.

 The bathtub is being prepared in the bath room. he announced. “The lady will want to clean up and change clothes leave the child with me while.” “No.” The word came out too firm, almost rude. Elizabeth he softened his tone. “Excuse me, but no I can still leave it. can wake up hungry at any time and if not I’m close.

” Manuela and Don Fernando They exchanged a look. It was he who spoke. Then we’ll take a bath right here. Manuela, bring a large basin, warm water, soap and something for the lady Isabel to eat. She must not have still dined. 15 minutes later, Isabel I was alone in the room. one basin of warm water steamed on a support.

 There was a clean nightgown fine cotton on the bed, certainly from the former owner of the room, because it was of much higher quality than everything Isabel had owned, and a tray with fresh bread, cheese, slices Serrano ham, quince paste and hot coffee on the table. Michael He slept in a makeshift crib made of pillows and cushions arranged on the bed, fenced so it wouldn’t roll.

 Elizabeth He bathed quickly, his body aching due to the tension of the last few hours, the breasts still tender, but relieved after He dressed her in a nightgown that smelled like the band and had delicate embroidery on the neck, and sat down to eat. The food It was delicious, but I could barely feel the flavor.

 His mind was still processing everything that had happened. Some hours ago she was in that window without purpose, without future. now I was on a farm that looked like palace, in a larger room that the living room of your house, responsible forkeep alive the heir of one of the richest families in the countryside of Es daughter And strangely, for the first time in three months, I felt like I was where it should be The first days were cautious adjustment.

 Miguel woke up every 3 hours demanding food and Isabel He attended promptly, always. Don Fernando knocked on the door before each asked if he needed something, he thanked with a broken voice and he was withdrawing They exchanged few words. He was visibly exhausted, not only physically, but emotionally. Isabel learned from Manuela that the wife of He, Laura, died just two weeks ago.

Puerperal fever, the housekeeper said while changing the crib sheets the next morning. It started three days after childbirth. Fever, chills, pains. The doctor tried everything. she It lasted 5 days. He didn’t even get hold the child well. He didn’t have milk. Don Fernando is devastated. They carried Married just a year.

 The information It hit Isabel like a punch in the stomach. One year. Laura had had barely a year of marriage before die giving birth. And Don Fernando, to the 32 years old he had lost his wife and almost he lost his son. It was not surprising that He would walk through the house like a ghost. The face always serious, the shoulders curved under an invisible weight.

 At Third day, Miguel showed improvement visible. The fever had disappeared completely. He suckled vigorously. The little eyes began to open and focus faces. The little hands were no longer shaking weak. Isabel hummed for him. while breastfeeding lullabies that his mother had taught him and I perceived that I was not alone feeding to that baby. He was healing too.

Don Fernando began to stay more time in the room during Tomas. He sat in the chair near the window, watching in silence. At At first, Isabel felt tense, uncomfortable with that fixed gaze, but little by little he realized that he did not He watched her with malice or desire. The I watched with gratitude, with something close to reverence. “It’s much better,” he said.

Don Fernando on the fifth day, breaking finally one of the long silences. “The dark circles have diminished. Your skin is healthy. He He is alive.” “Yes he is, Isabel agreed, accommodating Miguel who I had just had a drink and now I was yawning sleepy And it will continue like this. How do you know?” She She looked up at him.

 Why not? I will allow something else. Something changed in him Don Fernando’s face. A tension that he carried with him, perhaps since his wife became ill, perhaps earlier, began to fade. “You lost a son,” he said and it was not a question Isabel felt like she was short of breath. momentarily. He took a deep breath. I lost it three months ago.

He was born with a coiled umbilical cord. on the neck. He died in the first minutes of life. It didn’t even reach cry I’m very sorry. Me too. She looked at Miguel. But maybe, maybe he died because there was another baby that would need me. Maybe everything has a purpose, even when we can’t see it.

 Don Fernando He closed his eyes briefly, as if those words would have touched something deep. Laura didn’t want to stay still pregnant, she confessed with a low voice and burdened with guilt. The doctors They said I had a problem heart, that pregnancy would be risky, but I insisted, I wanted a heir, she wanted a son and now she She’s dead because of me.

 Isabel does not He responded immediately. He placed Miguel in the crib, making sure was comfortable, and only then He returned to Don Fernando. “You don’t killed his wife,” he said firmly. “The puerperal fever kills strong women and healthy. He also kills princesses and peasants. It is a tragedy, not a murder.

 And bear the blame not will bring back, just as my fault will not brought my son. Do you feel guilt? he asked Don Fernando surprised by what he passed to her baby. Yes, I felt it, I questioned everything. What I ate during pregnancy, if I worked too much, if I went up stairs too fast, if God was punishing for some sin that I didn’t even know I had committed.

 did a pause. But baseless guilt is just another name for martyrdom, martyrs cannot care for the living. Don Fernando faced her for a long time. moment. So for the first time since that Isabel had arrived at that house, he smiled. It wasn’t a broad smile or particularly cheerful, but it was sincere You are wise, Mrs. Isabel.

 I don’t I am. I have simply already suffered enough to know that suffering without purpose it does not save anyone. That one conversation marked a change. From From then on, Don Fernando began to stay longer in the room. No only during baby feedings, but also later. They talked about things small at first, time, olive groves, the administration of theestate, then about greater things, their families, their stories, their pains.

 Isabel discovered that don Fernando had inherited the estate of his father at 25 years old. when your Parents died of yellow fever months apart, that he had studied in Madrid, but had never Madrid sense despite its lineage noble, who loved that land with a passion that bordered on obsession, that worked alongside the day laborers in the fields, refusing to be just a distant administrator.

 Don Fernando discovered that Isabel had learned to read and write with his father, a rare thing for women of her condition. that she He read everything he could get his hands on, old newspapers, borrowed books, serials that I got from friends, that I dreamed of traveling to Seville one day, know the sea, which had skillful hands for all types of crafts, but its real talent was with plants medicinals that he had learned from his grandmother.

 The closeness occurred gradually, like a spring that He finds his way among the stones. Slowly, but inevitable. In the sixth week, Miguel was already strong and healthy, his eyes alert following movements, their little hands gripping fingers with a force surprising. It was Sunday morning and Isabel was in the balcony of the room trying open the stuck window.

 The wood is had swollen with the July rains and he didn’t give in. “Let me help you,” Don offered. Fernando who was passing by in the hallway. He entered the room, still accompanied by Manuela, who was changing the sheets, keeping the properties, and positioned himself next to Isabel by the window. I had to stoop a little to reach the top latch.

 Isabel tried walk away, give space, but he said, “Hold on down here. When I pull the latch, push out. she he obeyed. They stayed side by side, arms of both extended towards the window. Don Fernando pulled the latch with force. Isabel pushed. The window is opened suddenly and the impulse made both will become unbalanced. Don Fernando’s hand held Isabel’s waist instinctively to prevent her from falling.

 The hand of she perched on his chest looking support. The moment lasted only seconds. Maybe not even that, but it was enough to that Isabel felt the heat passing through the fine fabric of the dress, the solidity of his body, the smell of soap and something more, something masculine and disturbing, enough for Don Fernando feel the delicacy of the waist she under his hand, perceived how she It fit perfectly against his body, you will notice the light perfume of the band in her hair.

 They both They moved away immediately. too fast to be natural. Don Fernando he cleared his throat. The window is now open. Yes, thanks. Isabel’s voice came out strange, sharp. Manuela, who had witnessed everything, kept busy folding sheets, but Isabel would swear who saw a discreet smile in the corner of the Housekeeper’s mouth.

Don Fernando left quickly, mumbling something about work in the desktop. Isabel remained motionless where he was, his heart beating accelerated, the waist still warm where he had touched her. That was nothing, she said to herself. Just a gesture of knight preventing her from falling it meant nothing.

 But at night, When she was alone in bed, Isabel found himself reviewing that moment. The strength of his hands, the speed with which that he had stabilized her, the way in which that his eyes found hers for a fraction of a second, dark and intense, before moving away. and recognized, with terror and fascination, equal parts, that something had changed, something dangerous, something that shouldn’t, no could happen, because she was a employed there.

 He was the marquis, she was the cursed one of Esija, he was a recent widower. She was there to take care of your child, not to develop completely inappropriate feelings and absurd. But Isabel’s feelings I was learning they do not respect the logic, they simply exist and grow like seeds in fertile soil, even when they were not invited to germinate.

Two months after his arrival, August came bringing the dry cold characteristic of winter in the Esija countryside. The mornings dawned covered with thick fog that only dissipated around noon. Miguel, now three months old, was a happy and healthy baby who was already smiling Isabel and began to make sounds of happy Don Fernando had established a new routine.

 After dinner, he He came to Isabel’s room, always with the door open, always with Manuel nearby, and held Miguel by a few minutes. He was talking to his son, told about the day’s work, the plans for the future and Miguel looked at him with that intense attention that little babies have, as if understood every word.

 In one ofthose nights, Miguel fell asleep in the his father’s lap. Don Fernando He remained motionless looking at that face calm and Isabel saw tears slip silently through your face. Don Fernando,” she called softly. He didn’t respond immediately, just she continued looking at Miguel, her tears falling without sound, without soy, alone pure pain escaping from a dam that had been kept closed too long time.

Laura never held it like that. He said finally, the voice breaking. she was too feverish, too weak. He He was born and the midwife put him in my arms because the mother couldn’t. She looked at him just once before the fever will get worse. Just once. and then she He looked at me and said, “Take care of him, Fernando.

Promise you’ll take care of him. As if it knew, as if it were already saying goodbye.” Isabel felt her chest squeeze. He approached slowly, sitting next to him in the wide chair. “Did you promise?” I promised, of course. that I promised But then he began to wither away, rejecting all nurses, crying without stopping.

 and I thought that I was going to lose them both, mother and son, all at once, that my promise does not it would be worth nothing because I didn’t know how save him. But she saved him, Isabel said firmly. When he came to look for me that night in the rain, desperate, but without surrender, that was what saved him. No allow despair to turned into surrender.

 fight up the last breath Don Fernando He finally looked at her. His eyes were red, face marked by pain that he kept away from everyone. You saved him, not me. We saved him us, Isabel corrected. you had the Courage to cross the night. I had milk to offer you. It was a joint work. He held her gaze for a long moment.

 There, in that soft light of lamp, with the son asleep between them, something happened between Isabel and Don Fernando. It wasn’t just gratitude, it wasn’t just camaraderie, it was recognition. The recognition of two wounded souls that they found one in the other, not one complete cure, but company to carry scars. Do you miss her? he asked.

Isabel, because I needed to know. I needed to understand where she fit in. in that story. “I miss the idea of her,” Don Fernando responded with a honesty that surprised her. “We We met just two years ago. We we got married too quickly due to pressure familiar, for convenience, because it was the moment.

 I respected her, liked, but true love, that which They say it transcends everything. I don’t know if we had enough time to build it and that also fills me with guilt, because she died giving me a son and I don’t know if I loved her as I should. The raw honesty of that confession It left Isabel breathless. The men their class did not speak like that, they did not admit doubts, they did not reveal weaknesses.

 but Don Fernando was there stripped of any social mask, only human, just fragile. “Love is built,” she said gently. It is not born done. Maybe you were building and the time was too much short to finish the work. That’s not diminishes what they had. It just means that it was a beginning, not an end. And your promised? Don Fernando asked.

 Diego, Didn’t they love each other? Isabel thought carefully before responding. I believed yes He was handsome, well positioned, courted with pretty words, but when I needed it, when it was in my darkest moment, he gave me the back. So, no, I don’t think it was love. It was convenience disguised as romance. “He was a fool,” said Don Fernando, and There was anger in his voice.

 “Leave her for something that it wasn’t her fault, call her when anyone with eyes can see that you are exactly what opposite.” Isabel felt a heat rise for his face. “I’m nothing special.” “Lie, the word came out firmly. It is extraordinary. Pick up a baby dying of a stranger in the middle of the night. Cross the gates of a estate where she will be judged, where her reputation will be further destroyed.

 does everything this without asking for anything in return, except care, without resentment, without bitterness, alone pure goodness. If that is not extraordinary, Isabel, so I don’t know what it would be. It was the first time that he He called her only by her name, without him formal treatment. And something at that moment, perhaps the hour advanced, perhaps the intimacy of the scene, perhaps the vulnerability shared, made Isabel forget all the reasons why that It was dangerous, inappropriate, impossible.

“I’m here because I need to be,” he said. she quietly. my arms were empty and he needed to be held. my heart was dead and he made it beat again. Saving Miguel saved me also to me. Don Fernando extended the free hand, the one that did not support his son, and lightly touched the face of Isabel, just her fingers on her cheeks, but it was such a tender gesture deep that she felt the tearsThank you, he whispered, for him, for me, for Don’t give up on us.

 They remained like this. She sitting next to him, the son of both. Miguel seemed like one of both now, not just him, sleeping between them, the light touch, but loaded with meaning, until Manuela entered discreetly to announce that it was time to go to bed Miguel in the crib. But after that night, both they knew something had changed irreversibly.

The respectful distance they maintained began to narrow. The looks conversations lasted longer They deepened and the feeling that neither of them dared to name began to grow like a jacaranda that blooms against all odds, dyeing a world that Before it seemed just gray. October arrived bringing heavy rains again and with it the fifth month of Isabel at the enchanted hacienda.

At 6 months old, Miguel already sat alone, he babbled sounds that almost seemed words and laughed loudly and contagious every time Isabel or Don Fernando made faces at him. The relationship between Isabel and Don Fernando there had been subtly, but undeniably deepened. He had started asking her opinion on farm decisions.

 she had suggested changes in the garden and gardens. They had dinner together frequently with Manuela present, maintaining the shapes undeniably together. All the hacienda had noticed it. The employees They treated Isabel not as simple nurse, but as something close to the lady of the house And she, without fully realizing it, assumed that role naturally.

 It was an afternoon rainy October that everything exploded in a clarity impossible to ignore. Don Fernando entered Isabel’s room more earlier than usual, with hair wet from the rain, carrying a package under the arm. “I brought you something,” he said. with a nervousness in her voice that she I had never heard before.

 He deployed the wrapper on the bed. Inside I found a navy blue silk dress with white lace details on the collar and cuffs. A quality piece exceptional, visibly expensive, without custom-made doubt. What is this? Isabel asked with a frown on her face. the incomprehension. The La Encantada hacienda will receive important visits next week.

The Count of Fuentes and his family, large landowners in the region. It is a social commitment that I cannot elude And I, Don Fernando, hesitated. I I would like you to have dinner with us as my guest, as part of this house. Isabel’s breath caught. Don Fernando, that would be completely improper I am You are the woman who saved my son.

He interrupted her firmly. The woman who brought this woman back to life home and stopped visibly struggling with the words. and you are important for me. more important than I should, more than is sensible, but It is the truth and I no longer pretend that it is not. Isabel’s heart raced. We can’t. You know we can’t.

 Because? Because society dictates it. the same society that called her unjustly, who disowned her when most I needed support. Why should we Do we care what those people think? Because you have a son, you have a hacienda, has a name to preserve and I don’t have any of that. I am alone. No finish that sentence, said Don Fernando with low but intense voice.

 He took a step towards her. You are not just anything. It’s Isabel Romero Valdes. He is strong, intelligent, kind, brave and deserves to be treated like the extraordinary woman that she is, no like a hidden employee. you are confusing gratitude with what, love. He pronounced the word. Finally the pronounced and this was suspended between them like fragile glass.

 Because yes That’s what I’m confusing, Isabel, then I am happy with such confusion, because I wake up thinking about you. I spend the day waiting for the moment when I will be able to see her again. I sleep imagining that it is there in the next room and wishing it didn’t there would be a wall that separated us.

 and I know that It’s crazy. I know it’s too much soon. I know Laura passed away ago. barely five months, but the heart does not respects social schedules. Isabel was trembling. Every rational fiber He shouted that this was impossible. but all his heart, that heart that he had been dead and now it beat alive and warm, cried out the opposite truth.

 I too, she whispered. And they were scariest words ever pronounced. I wake up and the first thing I think is yes Miguel already woke up, but the second thing is If I’m going to see you, if we’re going to talk, if we are going to He stopped blushing. It is wrong, it is improper, but it is true.

 Don Fernando shortened the distance between them. He didn’t touch her yet. No, but it stayed close enough. so that she could feel its warmth, see every detail of that face that was secretly studied for months. “Put on your dress for dinner,” he said. him. “Sit at the table not likeemployee, but as a woman of this house. Let them see what I see.

 Dignity that cannot be bought, strength that cannot can be inherited and a beauty that is born of the soul. And then, she asked, because I needed to know, after the dinner, after visits, after that society sees a nurse sitting at the marquis’ table, what will happen then? Then said Don Fernando, and his voice contained promise and fear in equal parts.

 It we will discover together because I don’t know all the steps, Isabel. I don’t know how We will overcome all obstacles, but I know that I want to try, that I love you here, not as an employee. As? He hesitated. Then he decided on the harsh truth. As a companion, as someone at my side, as Miguel’s mother and if God allows, as something else.

Isabel closed her eyes, struggling between a paralyzing fear and a hope overwhelming. When he opened them again, made a decision. “I’ll wear the dressed,” she said, “I will sit at his table and I will face the judging glances and malicious whispers. But I do it with my eyes open, don Fernando. I do it because I choose to do it.

Because if I’m going to be anyway judged, let it be for something true, not for the fantasies they invent about me.” Don Fernando smiled then and it was a true, wide smile, that It transformed his entire face. did something that had not done yet, he took her hand, He brought it to his lips, kissed his knuckles with a reverence that brought forth Tears in Isabel’s eyes.

“Thank you,” he said, “for trusting me, for trusting us.” But as he left the blue dress on the bed as a promise and challenge at the same time, none of We both knew that you have much more strength dangerous than social gossip They were about to move against him. Forces that considered their love not only inappropriate, but a direct threat to interests much greater than feelings.

The navy blue dress fell perfectly in Isabel’s body. Manuela had helped her pick up the hair in an elegant bun, leaving some curls marking her face. When she looked in the mirror, Isabel barely was recognized. She no longer looked like the mourning widow self-imposed. She looked like a woman, simply a woman Dinner was scheduled for 7.

 Don Fernando was waiting for her at foot of the stairs, impeccable in its dark suit, silk tie, hair combed back. When he saw her descend the steps, his expression was worth more than 1000 words, amazement, pride and something more deep that made Isabel’s heart jump. “You look stunning,” he said. offering him his arm. The dining room was imposing, a long jacaranda table for 12 people, sparkling crystals, the ancestral silverware, candles in silver candelabras and sitting around the guests, the count of Fuentes and his wife, Countess Eugenia, 50 year old woman with eagle eyes and

a position that cried out for judgment. others dosed with their wives and to horror of Isabel, Diego Guzmán with his new wife Elena. The silence that fell When Isabel entered it was heavy as the lead. Let me introduce, said Don Fernando with a firm and clear voice, Mrs. Isabel Romero Valdés, who has been a blessing to this house and the salvation of my son Miguel.

 Nurse”, said the countess and the tone transformed an honored profession turned into an insult. “How interesting that you bring a employee to sit at the table, sir Marquis” guest. Don Fernando corrected coldly. Like all of you, Diego cleared his throat uncomfortable. Elena, too young to understand all the currents underground, I just looked curious.

 The others exchanged glances significant. Dinner was torture refined. Each dish was served with perfection, but each bite seemed a stone in Isabel’s throat. The questions came disguised as courtesy. And how is your family? Mrs. Isabel? Still in the same house humble, it must be interesting to live in such a large estate, very different from Its origins, I imagine.

 The baby He still breastfeeds at 6 months. what prolonged. Don Fernando responded with growing coldness, but Isabel knew that I couldn’t let him fight alone. When the countess asked with evil venom covertly, “And when do you plan to return to home, my dear? Certainly Miguel already You don’t need it that much.

 Isabel responded with a clear and firm voice, I will remain as long as it is necessary. And the need, Madam Countess, it is not measured only by milk, is measured by love, dedication and the will to put the well-being of a child to the vain social conventions. The silence that followed was absolute. The countess stood red. Diego dropped his fork.

 Don Fernando, sitting at the head, smiled openly. “Well said,” he commented, raising his head. cup. To the truth spoken with courage, no one else offered. Dinner ended in glacial atmosphere. When the guests They came out, Isabel heard perfectlycountess telling her husband, “Absolute scandal. A marquis and a, that woman, under the same roof with a month old baby. “It’s obscene.

” two weeks after the disastrous dinner, Don Fernando entered the room Isabel with an expression that she had learned to identify. Serious problems. “My mother-in-law is returning from Madrid,” Mrs. Clara de Rivera announced bluntly. and Heredia, Laura’s mother. she It shipped three weeks ago, it should arrive in 10 days.

 Isabel felt her stomach stir. She knows about me. Probably. The news flies, but even if it doesn’t knew, she would come to take her place as matriarch of the family, as without doubt will say. Doña Clara is complicated, controller, believes that the fortune of the Aguilar must remain in the lineage pure.

 It was she who practically forced my marriage to Laura. You don’t he loved, Isabel perceived. He married for pressure. I got married out of duty, family expectations and look where that took us. Don Fernando passed his hand by his hair frustrated. Doña Clara will demand that you be farewell Will bring plans to get married new, probably with some premium far from Madrid and will make life for a hell, if you allow it.

 So maybe I should go, Isabel said, although the idea would tear his soul apart, before cause more problems. No, the word came out as an order. No Run away, Isabel. Not now not when finally We have found something true. It Real doesn’t pay the bills. It true does not protect reputation. It true does not prevent society from destroy Maybe not, but the truth It’s all we have and I’m not going to surrender without a fight.

 10 days later, Doña Clara de Rivera y Heredia crossed the gates of the Hacienda La Encantada like a tall, thin storm, dressed in absolute black mourning. I was wearing an authority that came from decades sending people His face was hard, his clear eyes, cold as ice January. The first thing he did was demand a meeting with Don Fernando.

 The second was to order that Isabel be presented. And the third thing was to pronounce sentence. That woman is leaving this house today, no tomorrow. He’s not leaving today, responded Don. Fernando with a dangerous calm. How Do you dare to contradict me? I am the matriarch of this family. This is the my dead daughter’s house. This is my house.

Don Fernando corrected. And Isabel remains. She is a wet nurse, an employee and As I heard, much more than what should be. The gossip has already arrived to Madrid. I knew that the Marquis of the Enchanted is relating inappropriately with an employee while his wife’s body barely has cooled down.

 Laura died 7 months ago said Don Fernando with a voice dangerously low. And Isabel is not a improper relationship. She is the woman who saved to his grandson when he was dying, something that none of the chosen nurses for you could do. Doña Clara turned to Isabel, who I watched everything in silence with Miguel in his arms. How much do you want to leave? tell me the price. 10,000, 20,000.

 How much does it cost your dignity? Isabel felt the rage rise, warm and fast. my dignity It’s not for sale, ma’am. Unlike of yours, apparently, since it is trying to buy my game as if I was earned in the market. Mrs. Clara she turned livid. How dare you talk to me like that? How dare you treat me As if he were not a person? As if not I would have dedicated months of my life to taking care of your grandson? As if my only Was it monetary value? Isabel gave a step forward.

 stay calm, madam. I don’t want his family. No I want their titles. I don’t want your fortune Madrid. I’m here for Miguel and alone I’ll leave when he doesn’t need me anymore. He He doesn’t need you, Dona spat. Clara. He needs a proper mother and I have already provided one. The silence that fell was absolute. What has he done? Don Fernando asked.

slowly. My niece Sofía Morales, 22 years old, healthy, from a good family. She arrives in two weeks from Madrid. you They will get married as soon as the mourning ends suitable, a year after the death of Laura, February. It’s already agreed. No nothing has been agreed, responded don Fernando.

 I will not marry anyone who you choose. He will do it if he wants to keep this farm. Or have you forgotten which part significant amount of land is name of my late daughter’s family, that I have legal powers over the administration. I can make your life very difficult, don Fernando, or I can make everything easier for you. alone It has to be sensible.

 It was blackmail blackmail pure and simple. And Isabel saw the conflict in Don Fernando’s face between what I wanted and what I could risk Go away, Mrs. Clara,” he said. finally, “go to your room, We’ll talk later.” When the mother-in-law came out, Isabel sat down heavily, Miguel still in his arms. “She will succeed,” he said softly.

 “We are going to separate.” It won’t. But Don FernandoHe didn’t sound as convinced as before. For two weeks, the tension in the Hacienda la Encantada was palpable. Mrs. Clara commanded the house as if it were yours, reorganizing, dismissing employees, bringing new and always, always looking for ways to separate Isabel de Miguel.

 “The child is too big to suck,” he said. It is time to wean him. He is very attached to that woman It’s not healthy. When Sofia arrives, he needs to be ready to accept a new mother. Don Fernando resisted. But the pressure was increasing. The family lawyer showed up bringing documents that proved yes. Mrs. Clara had legal power over part significant inheritance.

 Yes, she could convert the administration of the hacienda in a nightmare bureaucratic. Yes, there were precedents for mothers-in-law taking control in situations similar. And then, one morning December, Doña Clara performed. Elizabeth woke up to the noise of a carriage the door He ran down, Miguel in his arms and found Doña Clara supervising employees carrying suitcases. Your suitcases.

 what is What are you doing? Isabel demanded, sending her back to where he belongs, to his little house in esija, to his family, to his class. No can do that. I can and I am doing. I have legal authority. The judge municipal, who owes favors to the family de Aguilar, has signed the order. you does not have a formal contract, does not have legal rights, is an employee and employees can be fired.

Fernando screamed Isabel desperately. He He appeared running from the office, pale face. Mother, what is doing? what I should have done since the beginning, protecting this family, protecting my grandson from inappropriate influences. Isabel is not an inappropriate influence, It is a nurse who fulfilled her purpose.

 Miguel is already 8 months old, can drink cow’s milk, porridge, no more he needs it. I need it, he said. Fernando, and there was despair in his voice. You need a suitable wife and Sofia arrives next week. everything It’s already fixed. The wedding will be in February. The farm will remain stable and that woman, she pointed to Isabel with disdain, will return to the darkness from where It should never have come out.

 Isabel looked at Fernando saw love in her eyes, but He also saw helplessness and perceived with a heartbreaking pain that perhaps love does not was enough against such forces powerful. “Don’t take Miguel,” she implored with tears streaming down. “Please let me say goodbye.” “You “He already said goodbye,” said Mrs. Clara. coldly.

 “Guards, put her in the carriage.” Two big men They advanced. Fernando took a step forward, but Doña Clara said, “Yes interferes, I withdraw all support financial. The farm will collapse. Hundreds of families that depend on you will be out of work. think about it good. It was blackmail, it was cruel, it was unfair, but it was effective.

” Isabel looked at Miguel in his arms, to that little one face that I had learned to love more than to his own life. kissed her forehead, He whispered, “Mommy loves you, she will always love you, “Never forget it.” And then, with a pain that tore the soul into pieces, He handed the baby to Manuela, who was crying. openly, and allowed himself to be led carriage.

 The last thing he saw was Fernando, motionless as a statue, clenched fists, tears streaming, fighting between love and duty, between heart and responsibility. And then the iron gates of the Hacienda La Enchanted closed after she, and Isabel Romero Valdés, for second time in less than a year, lost everything. Isabel spent three days locked in the room of her house in És refusing food, crying until have more tears. Mrs.

 Carmen I tried to console her, but what words could ease the pain of losing a son for the second time? Because that was what that Miguel had become, his son, no of blood, but of choice, of love, of dedication. On the fourth day, Manuela appeared at the Romeros’ door. Miguel is sick, he announced without preamble, the face marked by deep concern.

He stopped eating, he cries non-stop, he has fever again. They brought three housekeepers different breeds. He rejects them all, like 8 months ago. is dying, Elizabeth. He is dying of consumption. Isabel got out of bed, still weak, still destroyed, but with a clarity sudden passing through the fog of pain. Fernando knows it.

 The marquis is desperate Doña Clara says that it is a children’s drama that will pass, but not will pass. I know it won’t happen. I was there when he almost died the first time. It is the same. It’s going off. why came looking for me? Doña Clara will punish her for this. Let him punish me. I won’t stay with arms crossed watching a man die boy for the pride of an old woman bitter Manuela took the hands of Elizabeth. Come back.

 Not for you, not for Don Fernando, for Miguel. He needs. And then Isabel took a decision, the decision that would change himall. “I’ll be back,” she said with her voice sign for the first time in days, “but no as an employee, not as a nurse who can be discarded at any moment. I will return as a woman who choose to stay and if Doña Clara tries kick me out again, you’ll have to tear me out fighting, because I will not allow more than “Others decide my destiny.

” When Isabel Romero Valdés crossed the gates of the Hacienda La Encantada that December afternoon, it was no longer the scared and broken woman who had left three days earlier. It was a warrior, she was a mother, she was a woman that he had decided that his love, so much for Miguel as for Don Fernando, it was worth worth fighting, worth facing, It was worth risking everything and it was time to try it.

The afternoon sun bathed the hacienda enchanted in golden light when Isabel crossed the hall without asking permission without announce yourself, walking with firm steps directly towards the stairs. Manuela, who had seen her arrive, made her a discreet sign, second floor, first room on the right.

 Isabel went up the steps two at a time, he did not call The door just opened. Don Fernando was sitting in the armchair next to the crib. with Miguel in his arms and the baby was crying weakly, that exhausted crying that she knew too good. Don Fernando raised his glance and seeing her face crossed a sequence of emotions.

 Impact, relief, love, fear. Elizabeth, She didn’t respond, she just walked. To him, he extended his arms. Don Fernando handed Miguel over and the baby He calmed down immediately, snuggling against she like coming home. Your little ones Hands grabbed Isabel’s blouse. The crying stopped, replaced by sighs choppy.

 The fever still burned, but it was no longer despair. It was just a tired body recognizing security. “He needs to nurse,” Isabel said calmly. She sat down, unbuttoned her blouse and Miguel began to feed with the urgency of who had been hungry for too long. That’s when Mrs. Clara entered. What are you doing here? I sent her away.

 Elizabeth raised the look and there was something in it that made that even Doña Clara hesitated. I don’t It doesn’t matter, I’m back and I won’t leave new. I’ll call the guards, I’ll call to the judge, I will have her removed by force. Do it,” Isabel said with a calm that he didn’t feel, but he chose to project. “Call them, but in the meantime, your grandson, Doña Clara, is dying for second time and you, in your obsession with control and purity of lineage, which It’s killing.

 It’s killing the only one family that his daughter left behind. How do you dare? How dare I? How dare I to tell the truth?” Isabel got up, Miguel still suckling calm in his arms. I’ll tell you how I dare I lost my own son. I know what What is holding a lifeless body between my arms I know what it’s like to feel like a has failed in the only function that it mattered.

 And I swore to myself that I would never, ever again allow a child I would die if I could avoid it. She came closer until she was in front of him. front with Doña Clara. Do you want marry Don Fernando to his niece? He wants to preserve the lineage, he wants keep the fortune in the family. Do it then, marry them, but don’t take away from Miguel the only mother he You know, because I am not a wet nurse, Doña Clara, I am your mother, perhaps not blood, but of choice and that’s worth it much more.

 You are nothing, a employee, a commoner. I am Isabel Romero Valdés, she said, her voice growing in intensity. daughter of notary, grandson of midwife, great-granddaughter of a freed slave. I carry stories of strong women in my blood, women who survived when the whole world I was against him. and I’m not going to bend myself alone, because a lady with title thinks I’m inferior.

Tears began to fall down her face, but she did not wipe them. He let them flow pure and honest. I lost my son because God had others plans, but I beat Miguel. And if you love him It is a crime, if taking care of it is a scandal, then condemn me, punish me, but you won’t punish me again remove. I would have to kill myself first.

 The The silence that followed was absolute. Doña Clara looked at Isabel as if she saw for the first time. And maybe that’s how it was. Perhaps for the first time she did not see an employee or a threat, but simply to a mother, simply to a woman willing to die for the child that he had in his arms.

 It was a gift Fernando who broke the silence. “I “I’m going to marry Isabel,” he said. standing up. Not with Sofia or with no one you choose. I’m going to get married with Isabel because I love her. Because without her this house is just a building. Without she Miguel is dying. without her I am dying. You are going to lose everything, said Doña Clara.

 But your voice no longer had the previous strength. The Society is going to reject it. The others aristocratic families are going to give him theback. You will be an outcast. then I will be an outcast with dignity, he responded Don Fernando, with love, with truth. and that is worth infinitely more than approval of people who value titles about humanity.

 He walked until Isabel, he put his free hand she, the one who did not hold Miguel in her yours. Marry me, not because you need, not because it is a solution convenient, but because you choose it, because you want it, because you feel it same as I feel. Isabel looked at him. He looked at that man who had crossed the storm to look for it months ago, that he had respected her pain, that had treated with dignity when the the whole world called her He loved his son with an intensity that it excited her and that now he loved her

to her too, not despite her origins, but including them. I’m getting married, she said, I’m getting married because I choose, because I love you, because Miguel deserves parents who love each other and why I have learned that happiness does not ask permission to society, Doña Clara made one last try.

 He summoned the judge municipal, presented documents, argued laws and precedents, but don Fernando had a basis that she did not I expected. I have discovered gambling debts of yours in Madrid,” he said calmly, extending documents on the table library. “Considerable, and I have found out what part of the money you thought you were invested in the hacienda was actually diverted to cover them.

 This is misappropriation, a crime.” Doña Clara turned pale. “Don’t you would you dare to expose this publicly? No, I am willing to lose my reputation for love, mother. No Would you doubt what I am willing to do? to do. He leaned over the table. But I offer you a deal. you returns to Madrid. waive any claim on Laura’s inheritance, that legally should go to Miguel de anyway, and in return I pay your debts discreetly, without exposure public.

 And if I refuse, then the scandal will be much worse than a marriage between an aristocrat and a plebella. It will be about the matriarch of the family, losing a fortune at tables gambling and stealing from his own family. Choose wisely. Doña Clara looked around the room. library, towards the house that had been from his daughter, to the grandson who never accepted his authority, towards the son-in-law who I had discovered that I was much stronger than he imagined and recognized the defeat.

 “They will regret it,” she said, but it was no longer a threat, they were just empty words of a woman who had lost the war. Two days later, Mrs. Clara de Rivera y Heredia embarked back to Madrid, taking with him just your personal baggage and the promise of debts paid. Sofia Morales, informed of the situation, kindly declined the marriage invitation and she ended up marrying a merchant successful in Seville.

 The municipal judge, without the support of the Marquis of La Encantada and exposed in his debts to the family, silently stopped interfering. The rumors They continued, they always continue, but They lost strength when society He realized that Don Fernando did not like It mattered, that he had chosen love about social approval and was happy with your choice.

 And she is a daughter gradually learned a lesson valuable, that dignity does not come from the cradle, but of the character, and that the true love defies all expectations. February 1886 It dawned with a clear sky and a sun golden bathing the countryside of Esija. No There was a great wedding in the plaza the Main Church.

 There were not hundreds of guests in formal suits. there was not aristocratic pomp. Don Fernando and Isabel chose differently. under the jacaranda that bloomed abundantly in the funds of the La Encantada hacienda, surrounded only by the people who really mattered, Manuela, the farm laborers, the parents of Isabel, some true friends, they They got married.

 The priest, old acquaintance of the family I had always valued love above protocols, He performed a simple but touching. Miguel, now 10 months old and healthier than ever, he was in the arms of Doña Carmen Romero babbling happy sounds. When the time came the votes, Don Fernando held the hands of Isabel with a firmness that spoke of absolute certainty.

 Isabel, he began with the voice filled with emotion, when I knocked on his door that night rainy, not only did I take my son dying, but also carried my own spiritual death. I was destroyed, empty, without hope. you He not only saved Miguel, he saved me. taught me that family is not about blood or titles, but of choice and dedication.

 Today I promise you that I will take care from you not because it is the right thing to do eyes of society, but because it is true in my heart. I promise respect their origins as much as I do inheritance, because both have formed us. I promise to be your companion, not your lord,your friend, not your controller, and I promise love her not despite who she is, but exactly for that reason.

 I don’t choose it because obligation, but out of gratitude infinite for having entered my life. Isabel, with tears flowing freely, she squeezed his hands. Don Fernando,” she said with a clear and firm. “I was not born in a cradle of gold. I don’t have titles, I have no fortune, I have no noble lineage.

 I am a daughter of the earth, of honest work, daily struggle. But here I am with a full heart and hands ready to build. Today you I promise that I will take care of you and Miguel, not from an idealized place of perfection, but from the reality of who am i I promise to bring to this house no only maternal love, but the strength of the women who came before me, women who survived, resisted, They flourished where others only saw infertile land.

 I promise honesty Even when it hurts, I work even when fatigue and love especially when it’s difficult. And I promise to be a mother of Miguel, not because he replaces who begot him, but because the son loved him as if he had engendered it. The priest smiled with moist eyes. I declare you husband and wife, may God bless this union built not on conventions, but in courage.

When Don Fernando kissed Isabel there under the flowering branches of the jacaranda, with the purple petals falling like a natural blessing, all present They applauded. Miguel shouted excitedly, extending his little hands towards his mother. Doña Carmen Romero was crying openly. Manuela wiped her eyes discreetly and Isabel Romero Valdés, now Isabel de Aguilar y Montoro, knew that the title was just a detail.

 It what mattered, what always would matter, it was that she was where had chosen to be, with whom he had chosen to love, creating a family that no lineage book could document appropriately, because its value was written in the heart, not on paper. where others saw a woman Don Fernando knew how to see a blessing and there, on that ground previously marked alone Through the loss, something blossomed that was not He asked permission from no one.

 true love, a chosen family, dignity reconquered, not because it was easy, but because it was true. 9 years had passed since that February afternoon under the jacaranda flowery, when Isabel and Don Fernando They united their lives before few, but sincere witnesses. Since then, the farm The enchanted one experienced a transformation that went far beyond the olive groves productive and the farmhouses well maintained.

 He knew full life, laughter children’s songs echoing through the hallways, love matured in deep roots and a purpose that transcended profits and lineages. Time had left its marks, but the deepest mark was the joy that there was finally found permanent abode in that house that previously kept only mourning and silence. Miguel, now 9 years old, was riding through the fields with a confidence that had inherited from his father and curiosity insatiable of his mother.

 High for your age, had dark and intense eyes of Don Fernando, but the broad smile and generous Isabel, intelligent, observant, spent the mornings helping his father in the administration of the treasury, small but skillful fingers, recording numbers in the books of accounting. In the afternoon I found his mother in the delivery house, hope, which had established in the background of the property, fascinated by the medicinal plants and births that were happening there.

 “I’m going to be a doctor,” had declared with the conviction of a child who already knows his way. “And I’m going to take care of mothers and babies like you you took care of me.” Laura, 6 years old, was named the mother who gave birth to Don Fernando, but it was the pure spirit of Isabel. Sweet, but determined, quiet, but observer He had brown hair curly ones that danced with the wind when I ran through the gardens picking flowers for his mother.

hummed made-up melodies while worked, helping Manuela in the cooking, creating elaborate stories for the rag dolls that Mrs. Carmen sewed him. she was a mediator natural between brothers, always finding creative solutions to childhood conflicts. Peter, 4 years, it was a storm contained in a small body, straight hair like of Don Fernando, but a spirit very own adventurer.

 I went up to the trees taller than they should, explored forbidden corners of the hacienda, returned home covered in mud and proud of his discoveries. interesting stones, nests little birds, wild fruits. Don Fernando saw in him his own childhood, that impulse to know the world without fear and guided it without repress it.

 And Clara, 2 years old, the most small girl with light eyes, unique in all the family, who surprised everyone by born quiet and contemplative, she passed now just observing, processing theworld around him with a seriousness comical for such a tender age. I continued to Miguel with absolute adoration, calling him Migué, with a voice that melted all hearts.

Don Fernando, at 41 years old, looked hair with silver threads in the hundreds, soft wrinkles around the eyes, marks of a deep joy in the last few years. It was still delivered with he went to the olive groves and administered the doing it with skill, but a lightness It enveloped him that he did not know before.

When I observed Isabel and did it often, as if it were still hard for him to believe that was his, his eyes shone with a tenderness that the years could not dull. Isabel, at 33 years old, carried a body marked by four gestations, hands more seasoned than ever by the work in the birth house and hair with strands early silver.

 Still, it radiated a joy that rejuvenated her. I woke up early every morning, I kissed her husband to a sleepy, she checked on each child before starting the day and left for the birthing house Esperanza, where she assisted women humble people of the region, providing them safe, free and dignified births. was respected and loved, sought after not only for births, but also for their advice, remedies and words of consolation The family routine was established more flexible.

 breakfast He gathered them at 7 o’clock. Don Fernando and Miguel were heading to the administration and the olive groves. Elizabeth to the birthing house or to its gardens medicinal. Laura and Pedro to their studies with the private preceptor who He went three times a week. Don Fernando insisted on education quality, more Isabel in which they learned with hands in the ground.

 Clara, the minor, circulated freely under the loving supervision of Manuela, who now She played the role of grandmother more than a housewife. keys. Lunch at 2 gathered again, sharing experiences of the day and discoveries. The afternoon passed more freely, children playing, parents working, but always accessible. Dinner at 7, followed by dinner time bedtime stories.

 Don Fernando and Isabel took turns narrating stories. He of knights and dragons, she of magical plants and women you knew Then, when the children were asleep, Their time was coming. Porch conversations, tea hot, hands intertwined. and comfortable silences of those who do not They needed words to understand each other. They were a not perfect family.

 The perfection does not exist, but it does exist authentic. And that truth was worth more than any fairy tale The farm Enchanted had transformed into something much more than a productive property. Although the olive groves continued to yield Well, Don Fernando was an administrator competent, the property had gained a new heart The birthing house, the hope that Elizabeth had established three years after their marriage.

Erected in light wood with wide windows for light and air and a garden rear medicinal, birth house offered to humble women of the region what society denied them, dignity. There were no trials there. It didn’t matter if They were married or single, rich or miserable, from Tesclara or Morena. alone It mattered that they were alive and needed help.

 Isabel, taught by her grandmother midwife and now expert in dozens of births, worked with two helpers, day laborers that she herself had trained. I taught them about herbs to relieve pain, postures that facilitated birth and care postpartum essentials and the most transcendent He instilled in them that motherhood did not know countenance, color nor crib.

 that every mother deserved the most deep respect. The Esijana community, which years ago had now branded the searched in his older moments necessity. Doña Isabel was a name pronounced with reverential respect, with gratitude wave. Mothers to whom there were assisted they returned with their healthy children to express his eternal gratitude. Entire families showed up at the estate not to beg for favors, but to offer your honest work in exchange of equitable salaries that Fernando paid.

The same Esija society, although still rooted in its conservatives customs, he had learned a lesson transcendental, that the marriage of Don Fernando and Isabel had not been a scandal ignominious, but a shining example of bravery. Other women, moved by their history began to question the marriages of convenience.

 Others men, when contemplating happiness genuineness of the marquis, they began to weigh love above any agreement advantageous. It was not a dizzying change, it was not a revolution, but it was an evolution. and Sometimes evolution is all that is can long. Diego Guzmán, the former Isabel’s fiancé, never prospered after his marriage to Elena.

 discovered too late he had married the dowry, not for love, and that a dowry I couldn’t warm a cold bed. Elena,too young to marry she had grown resentful and distant. They had three children, but their home was always a cold battlefield, never a refuge of affection. Diego He aged badly, given over to drink, wasting inherited property, shunned in social circles by bitterness that he carried with him.

 When I saw Isabel in the town so occasionally, he looked away with alacrity, not out of contempt, but out of a deep shame. I knew I had let one escape. extraordinary woman out of pure cowardice and no wealth could ever compensate such a loss. The Countess Eugenia, who With so much Inco he had judged Isabel At that Asian banquet, he lost his social influence gradually.

 If revealed that many of his criticisms of the people were based on envy just hidden When her own daughter chose marrying against her will, the countess She found herself isolated, immersed in bitterness, receiving the same type of judgment as she had always dispensed with others.

 She died alone at the age of 60, her sparsely attended funeral, forgotten by the same society to which so much I had tried to dazzle. Doña Clara de Rivera.