“So you did not know of her until after you were married?”
“I knew he had been married before but there was no mention of a daughter.”
“What was it like when you first met her?”
“Peculiar. My two daughters and I packed up our belongings and traveled to his estate in which you now find yourself. As we approached, I could not believe how magnificent the whole idea was to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I had just married a handsome man with a large estate. What else could any woman of my age and situation want for herself and her family?”
“However?”
“However,” said the Countess, picking up right off of the cue. “The whole dream was shattered when the carriage door opened and I first laid eyes on his little girl who was covered from head to toe in dirt.”
“Dirt?”
“Well, chimney ash, to be correct.”
“What did you say?”
“What any woman would say in that situation. ‘Why did you not tell me you had a daughter?’”
“And he said?”
“‘I did not want to spoil the surprise.’”
“That cannot be what he said.”
“Ah . . . but it was,” sighed the Countess. “Nothing could change the scenario so I merely went over to shake hands with the girl, but she crossed her arms and turned away from me immediately. I tell you, she smelled as if she had been sleeping with the pigs. Her hair was all matted down with twigs and dirt embedded into it, and her clothes and face were stained with ash.
“Count Daughtry could tell my disapproval of her appearance and said ‘She is a spirited girl who is very playful.’ He looked down at Isabella and patted her dress. A wall of cinder ash flew into the air. I took a step back to avoid inhaling it. As the dust settled, Count Daughtry threw on his dashing smile and simply said, ‘She likes to read near the fireplace. Sometimes she gets a little too close.’
“‘I can see that,’ I said, covering my nose to block the stench.”
Claire began to bite her lower lip before she said, “Did you think her pretty?”
The Countess's eyes shot up to meet Claire’s. “What do you mean?”
Claire looked down at the paper that was covered in notes in front of her. After rereading the last line about the cinder-covered girl she looked back up at the Countess. “Did you find her to be more attractive than either one of your daughters?”
“Did I not just tell you how her appearance repulsed me?”
“Yes, but you could have been equally as repulsed had she been a beautiful young lady.”
The Countess's fingers began to tap the desk while an annoyed scowl crossed her face.
“I know that is what the town’s people think. They think that little Isabella was a threat to me and my daughters so I hid her away.”
“Well, that is how it came to me in Germany.”
“Let me assure you that the gossip gets worse.”
“Countess-”
“It can be downright cruel at times.”
“Countess, I am not interested in what gossip is going around the Queen’s court. I am more interested in hearing what you have to tell me. Please, I would like you to continue.”
The Countess's raised eyebrow relaxed and she let out a little huff.
“Charles was a whirlwind adventure that, I am sad to say, I did not get to have for very long.”
“Were you with him when he . . .”
“Died?” the Countess grunted.
“Yes,” Claire whispered, looking a little ashamed that she had to ask the question.
“That morning will be captured in my mind forever. That was the morning that everything changed. And I do mean everything.
“We had only been married a few months and I was still adapting to my new environment. Charles had received word that there was some trouble with two of his ships docking in Barcelona. He immediately packed a bag and hopped on his horse.
“‘Is there no one else who can handle this affair?’ I pleaded with him. But he would not listen to me. In hindsight, I knew he would be going as soon as the messenger dropped off the letter. He was always headstrong and had to handle his own business.”
“How much time was it before he left?”
“No more than a day, I believe. I could tell that the matter stressed him. That was the first time I knew of that something in his business had gone awry. After it all happened . . . I remember the only sound that drowned out my own tears that night was the sound of Isabella’s.”
“I would guess she would be upset,” Claire admitted.
“I would say more so. She was very attached to Charles. I am sure she felt like she was living with complete strangers, not having much time to get to know either of my daughters or me.”
“A few months is not a lot of time.”
“You are right.”
The Countess sat back in her chair and took a deep breath.
“The whole household was outside to see Charles off that morning. He said his fond farewells, mounted his horse, and started on his way.
“I could feel my stomach start to turn and my emotions getting the best of me. I could not bear to see him go, nor could I let the children see me in this state. So, I hurried back into the house, not wanting to watch him disappear into the distance.
“I could hear Isabella say something about tradition and him waving back at us, but I could not wait for that. The tears were already starting to overcome me. I had made it no more than two steps inside the door when I heard a shriek. When I turned back, Charles was lying on the ground.
“Isabella made it to him before I did. We watched him struggle to breathe. His eyes started on me, but then moved to her. ‘I love you always,’ he said. And with that, he died.”
The room went silent after the Countess's last words. Claire saw the tears forming once more in the Countess's eyes while she relived the horrific event.
She slid a handkerchief from her pocket to dab her eyes, then rested her hands in her lap comfortably.
“I have tried very hard to forget that day, but, like I said, it is a memory that will forever be trapped in my mind. For I believe that was the day that my whole life would make a turn for the worst.”
“Why do you say that?” Claire asked.
“I told you everything changed that day. Maybe I should be more specific; Isabella changed that day. After Charles stopped breathing, both Isabella and I wept over his body. I could not imagine what was going through her mind. She never knew her mother and now her father was gone. I reached out to embrace her when she looked up at me with the most awful glare. ‘You did this to him, I know you did. I will never forgive you! Never!’”
“What did you say?”
“What could I say? She was a young and impressionable child. I do not know why she thought that I would ever want to harm Charles.”
“It really sounds like you went through quite an ordeal.”
“Mademoiselle Du Bois, Charles’ death was only just the beginning.”
Chapter 8
“Squeaky Clean”
Tell me about Isabella’s cleaning habits,” Claire asked candidly. “I know that many people say you forced her to clean the house, but I get the sense that it did not happen like that at all.”
“Obviously the town’s people have never been in my home to know that this house is fully staffed with servants to do all of the chores. Why on earth would I need Isabella doing them?”
“You tell me.”
A wry expression captured the Countess's hard face. “She started with the floors. At least that is the first thing that I can remember. I woke up early the morning after Charles’ funeral. I could not sleep, so I thought it best to go get a small bite to eat. Maybe it would calm my nerves.
“I took a step out into the hall, and without knowing what was going on, I felt my feet slide out from underneath me. I hit the floor hard and lay there for a few minutes. I could feel cool wat
er soaking into my nightgown and all I could ask myself was, ‘Why is there a puddle of water on the floor?’
“When my thoughts began to refocus, I could hear a scrubbing sound coming from down the hall. Surely it was too early for any of the servants to be up. I lifted my candlestick to identify the strange noise and there was Isabella, on her hands and knees, scouring the floor.
“I asked her what she thought she was doing out of bed in the middle of the night, but she did not acknowledge me. She just continued to scrub the floor in silence.”
“Did you attempt to stop her?”
“I knelt down in front of her and placed my hand on the brush.”
“And?”
Claire noticed the Countess shudder. “She looked at me.”
“That is all? She looked at you?”
“You make it sound so trivial, but it was no ordinary glare. It was filled with hate and pain; to the point that I thought she might attack me. I could swear I even heard a low growl in the back of her throat. I was frightened, and I do not say that lightly, Mademoiselle Du Bois.”
The Countess shifted her weight in her chair, looking uncomfortable. Still, she continued.
“In all my travels and of all the sordid people I have met, I cannot recall a person I was more afraid of than Isabella in that moment.”
“What did you do?”
“I backed away from her and let her continue cleaning the floor.”
“Did you stay with her?”
“I thought about it, but no. I was too uncomfortable and found myself wanting very much to hide behind a locked door.”
“She was only a confused little girl. There is no way she was going to hurt you.”
The Countess shifted again in her chair until she sat up perfectly straight, and glowered at Claire.
“A little puppy may seem harmless, but if you hit it enough times, it will eventually bite you back.”
“But you were not hitting her. You were trying to care for her.”
“You and I know that, but she on the other hand . . .”
“And this is how the gossip began?” Claire concluded.
The Countess De Leon dropped her head in acknowledgement.
Claire sat back in her chair, looking the Countess over more carefully. It wasn’t just her words that suggested the trepidation she felt towards Isabella, but also her body language and the constant shifting in her seat. That little girl clearly struck fear into this very strong woman.
“Tell me more about her cleaning.”
“The next morning, I woke believing I had dreamt the whole thing. However, when I went to get out of bed, I found a bruise on my leg from when I fell and my back was stiff.
“I apprehensively went over to my door and peeked into the hall. Much to my relief, it was empty.”
“At least you know she did not stay out there all night.”
“Just because she was not present does not mean that she had not been there for some time over the course of the evening.”
“Was that all she did? Clean the floors?”
“Not even close. That morning I went down to breakfast where Genevieve had already started eating. It was a pleasant surprise to see breakfast already made and on the table for us. But when I went down to compliment Cook for being ahead of our usual morning schedule, he was in the kitchen waiting for the bread to finish baking so he could start the eggs.
“‘Do you not think we have already had enough for breakfast? I think one course is plenty.’ He looked at me as if I were speaking a foreign language.
“‘This is the first course, Ma’am.’ he said shortly. ‘Then how?’ I started but decided not to finish the thought. Instead, I told him to think forward to lunch because we had already eaten. He grumbled a bit but did as I asked.”
“Cleaning to cooking. That is certainly kind of her. Though, it does pose the question of why she would be so nice if she did not care for you.”
“Honestly, I wish I could tell you. My guess is she read it out of some book. Evil witch making the poor servant girl do all the work.”
Claire could tell the Countess was recounting the fairy tale book almost scene by scene. Still, she left the book in her satchel for the time being.
“The next night, I woke up to a strange ‘thumping’ sound.
Again, I moved cautiously to my door and poked my head out. This time she had taken a large broomstick and was beating all the dust from the tapestries and the curtains.
“The moonlight caught the thick cloud of dust that hovered around her. I was curious if she was going to clean the upper half of the curtains or only what she could reach.”
“I bet she cleaned the whole thing,” Claire interjected.
“She did. She pulled out a chair. She must have dragged it from the study, and climbed on top of it to start hitting the top part of the curtain.”
“Smart.”
“Odd does not necessarily mean ignorant,” the Countess scoffed.
“Why do you think she only cleaned at night?”
“I suppose it was so no one would stop her. At least that is the best guess I have. But that was only at the beginning.”
“So, she did start cleaning during the day.”
“About a week or two later, it became a daily routine. She would start with washing the clothes down by the river.”
“By herself?”
“Most of the time. On a rare occasion, Josephine joined her.”
“Hmm,” Claire hummed while starting to put the pieces together in her mind.
“She liked nature, so who was I to stop her from going out there?”
“Go on.”
“After washing clothes, she would polish the silver with Cook. He did not seem to understand it but never turned down the extra help she gave him. Then, she would make her way out to the stables. I assume it was to clean the stalls and feed the horses. Botley would tend to join her on this chore. I think they snuck carrots out to Count Daughtry’s horse, but also, it allowed Isabella alone time to speak with someone she could trust. In the late afternoon, she would take a bucket and scrub down the floors in the main entrance hall. After several hours of work, she would eat a quiet supper by the fire while reading a book, and then head up to bed.”
“That sounds like a pretty full day.”
“It was indeed, and she did it every day.”
“Interesting.”
“The only days she became difficult about it were days that it rained. Of course, our shoes tended to be covered with mud from walking in town or on the drive. When we walked into the house, I made sure the girls cleaned their feet as best they could. However, if a single drop of mud hit the ground, Isabella would shriek loudly just before going to retrieve a bucket of water and then scrub the entire floor clean . . . again.”
“Whoa. That is strange.”
“She would not even look at the floor but glared at us instead, mumbling things under her breath.”
“Trying to look on the bright side, at least your house was always clean.”
The Countess dropped her hands on her desk and looked at Claire in disbelief.
“Honestly, the amount of criticism I have received for that girl’s odd cleaning behavior is far from the worth of having a clean house.”
“I suppose you are right. I am sorry you have had to endure not only Isabella but the false accusations that came with her cleaning,” Claire said apologetically.
“The amount of cleaning that girl did was almost unattainable by one individual. One morning I woke up and the first thing I noticed was the amount of light coming through the windows. They were spotless, and all the drapes had been beaten clean and drawn back. The next thing I noticed was the statues had all been thoroughly dusted and polished and the floor had been wiped clean.”
“How could it be done?”
“I wish I knew. The best servant I have ever had could not have put as much care and precision into all that Isabella accomplished in that one night.”
/> “Do you think someone helped her?”
“She might tell you that her Fairy Godmother did.”
“You and I already know that is not true.” Claire’s hand delved into her satchel and produced the small book.
Pulling it out, Claire tossed it onto the desk. “Why not help me get acquainted with her?” she said assertively.
The Countess stared at the book momentarily, then flipped open the cover. Skimming through the pages, she finally stopped on the picture of the Fairy Queen.
Claire tried to get a closer look at the majestic creature that floated across the whole page, but the Countess slammed the book closed and rested her hand on top.
“What does the fairy godmother mean to you?” asked Claire sincerely.
“I would think the person who gave you this book would have told you its significance to me,” the Countess said accusingly. Just as the words escaped from the Countess's lips, there was a light knock at the door.
“Come in,” said the Countess.
Botley came in and bowed. “I apologize for the intrusion,” he said. Claire turned to look at him but the Countess did not.
He continued. “Mademoiselle Du Bois, your friend, Monsieur Krouse . . .”
“Is he here?”
“He is.”
“All right. Tell him I will be right down for dinner. I just need to finish with the Countess.”
Botley didn’t flinch.
“Well?” the Countess hissed.
Botley nodded his head solemnly.
Slightly confused as to what was going on, Claire turned back to catch the Countess pondering something.
“What is it?”
The Countess redirected her eyes to Botley. “Where is he?”
“I put him in the guest room next to Mademoiselle Du Bois, just as you requested, Madame.”
The Countess stood up and hastily exited the study.
Claire looked back to Botley perplexed.
“Is she angry that my friend has come?’
“No. More like, she predicted the way in which he would arrive.”
“And?” Claire barked.
“And, she was correct.”
Chapter 9
“Integral Part”
Gossip Page 5
