“Your Grace!” Lady Lambert said as she hurried over to him.
“I am all right,” he said, straightening his back, although his leg still pained him. However, the burning of his cheeks hurt more, by far. “It tends to give me problems from time to time. I suppose standing for so long has not helped.”
“Would you like to rest? I am sure we can set you up in one of the guest rooms or you are welcome to use the sofa if you would like.”
“No,” Laurence said all too quickly. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “I appreciate your offer, but I believe it has passed. Let us return to the party.”
“If you are certain…”
“I am.”
He followed the baroness back out into the hallway, doing everything in his power not to reach down and massage his leg despite the fact that the pain increased with each step he took. On most occasions, if the pain was this harsh, he would be forced to lie down for several hours until it subsided, but he could not—no, he would not—do that now.
And as they reentered the room, it was as if every eye fell on him, and his embarrassment grew tenfold, for he could not keep himself from limping more than usual. He searched the room for Isabel and was surprised when he could not find her. He felt his humiliation deepen and his anger rise. He had not asked much from his wife, but the fact that she chose to leave him alone with a group of people he barely knew was uncalled for.
He searched the room for a chair, but the closest would force him to walk through the crowd of people. Therefore, he forced a smile, hoping Isabel would return soon. However, as the seconds turned into minutes, his anger only worsened, and all he wanted to do was return home.
***
Isabel had never been happier to be back home. It was as if she had never married and was still living at Scarlett Hall, and she listened intently as Nathaniel spoke of his days at Eton School.
“The headmaster is strict,” Nathaniel was saying. “I must admit he is fair. I don’t find myself reprimanded as often as other boys.”
“That is because you are a good young man,” Isabel said. She ruffled the boy’s hair, and he grimaced and pulled away. “It has been truly wonderful to see you again. I wish you did not have to return to Eton just yet.”
“But I must,” he said in sudden seriousness. “If I am to take over the dukedom and all of Father’s businesses, I must return and finish my studies.” At times, the boy was as serious as their father had been, which made Isabel want to weep with joy. Coupled with his innocence, he was truly a remarkable young man, even at the age of thirteen.
As they continued their conversation, something in the back of her mind began to gnaw at her. The guests around them laughed and smiled, but one laugh seemed to be missing from the room.
“Juliet,” Isabel whispered under her breath. “Nathaniel, I will return in a moment.”
“Where are you going?”
“To find your sister,” Isabel replied.
She walked over to Annabel, who stood talking with a young man Isabel recognized as Loftus Skettington, the son of Lord Skettington, Earl of Warrington, a young man whose reputation most decent people found questionable. Why he had even been invited was a wonder, but Isabel suspected her young cousin might have had something to do with it. And by the guilty expression she wore, she knew she was right.
“Isabel,” Annabel said in a shaky voice.
“Excuse us a moment,” Isabel mumbled as she grabbed her cousin by the arm and pulled her aside with a faint smile for the boy to whom she had been speaking. When they were a decent distance away, she lowered her voice and hissed, “Is Juliet where I think she is?”
Annabel nodded, and Isabel turned and hurried away to warn her mother about Juliet. She had seen the woman and Laurence go into the study and close the door, so she pressed her ear to the door to listen. If they were there, she would hear their voices.
“I do not know what to do,” her mother was saying. “I am afraid all will be lost if I do not do something soon.”
Anger filled Isabel, and she gave a huff before making her way outside. Leave it to her mother to ask more of Laurence than she already had! Had Isabel’s sacrifice not been enough for the woman? Her mother was going to foolishly lose everything her father and his family had worked so hard to gain if she was not careful. Laurence only had so much he could offer before he cut the woman off completely. And if he did, Isabel would not blame him.
Yet, it was not only the loss of the home that concerned Isabel, although it was the most important. There was also the fact that Juliet and Hannah relied on her to guide them. Here was Juliet, alone in the stables with Daniel, and where was their mother? Locked away in the study discussing the financial situation she had created.
As she neared the stables, Isabel heard hushed voices coming from inside.
“If you wish to please a woman,” Juliet was saying, “you must try harder than that. My lips are not poison, so this time, do it correctly.”
“Yes, Miss,” Daniel replied.
Isabel opened her eyes wide and her heart skipped a beat. Of all the things Juliet could be doing on her eighteenth birthday, sharing in kisses with a servant should not have been one of them!
She rushed to the stable doors. “Juliet! You are a lady, not a common…” Her voice faltered as she tried to take in the scene before her. Juliet sat atop a pile of straw as Laurence held a small plate with a slice of cake on it. The fork, which held a small bite of cake, was aimed at Juliet’s mouth.
“Isabel!” Juliet gasped when she noticed her sister in the doorway gaping at her. “I did not expect you.” She smoothed her skirts nervously. The poor stable hand held his head in shame.
“What are you doing here?” Isabel demanded, hurrying to her sister and brushing away a piece of straw that clung to her hair. “Do you realize that there is a party going on inside the house.”
“Of course I do,” Juliet retorted haughtily. “However, since it is my birthday, and one day I will have my own servants, I thought it best to practice by asking Daniel to feed me.” Daniel’s face reddened even further, and Isabel worried he would have a stroke or some other malady soon.
“You may leave us,” Isabel told the young man.
“I'm sorry,” he said with a bow.
Juliet sniffed derisively. “Do not apologize,” she said. “You are my servant, not hers.”
Anger rose inside Isabel, a cumulation of all that had happened over the past month, and she grabbed her sister by the arm so tightly, the girl cried out in pain. “Do not speak to him in that manner again!” she shouted.
“Isabel?” Juliet asked in shock. “You are hurting me.”
“No!” Isabel said through clenched teeth. “I am sick of the way you treat others. You act like Laurence’s sister, Harriet, believing you are better than anyone else, and I will not put up with it a moment longer!”
“But he is only a servant,” Juliet said with a whimper.
“He is a human being with feelings just like yours. However, that is beside the point. You are a lady, and you should act like one. Not like a child.”
Tears filled Juliet’s eyes, but Isabel ignored them, her anger was so great.
“Your first season will begin soon, and you will not ruin our family name. Not after what I have done to save this family!”
Juliet’s eyes went wide, and Isabel realized she had said more than she had intended. “What do you mean that you saved this family?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Isabel replied. She took a deep breath to steady herself. “I suppose I am as prone to theatrics as you are.” This seemed to appease Juliet somewhat, for which Isabel was thankful. “However, the fact remains that you cannot be left alone with Daniel—or any other man. This is not up for discussion. But I also cannot be here every day to remind you.”
Juliet looked down at the ground. “I am sorry,” she said in a low tone. “I did not mean any harm.” Then she looked up at Isabel, tears now streaming down her chee
ks. “I wish you were still here.”
“I do, as well,” Isabel said as she pulled her sister in for a hug. “There is not a day that goes by that I do not wish to return to Scarlett Hall.” She sighed and kissed the top of Juliet’s head. “However, I am married and happy in my new home.” She was unsure why she had said the words, for they were a lie. Were they not? Regardless, they made Juliet smile.
“Will you tell Mother?” Juliet asked as they returned to the house. “I do not want her to be angry with me.”
“No. I will not say anything.”
They returned to the drawing room—after Isabel checked that Juliet did not have a blotchy face. No one seemed to have noticed their disappearance, which pleased Isabel.
That is until she saw Laurence. His face was a bright red, and his jaw was drawn tight. Hurrying to him, she placed a hand on his arm, and his eyes clouded with something she could not identify.
“What is wrong? What happened?”
“I…” He seemed unable to speak. “Nothing. Perhaps the cake was a bit too sweet for my stomach.” A bead of sweat formed on his forehead, and Isabel scrunched her brow. However, before she could voice more concern, he added. “A few more minutes, and it will pass.”
Isabel sighed with relief and turned to look back at Juliet, who had joined Annabel as though nothing outside of the party had transpired.
“Scarlett Hall is full of laughter,” Laurence said.
“Indeed,” she replied with a smile. “My only hope is that it remains that way.”
Although she did not speak the words, for she did not want to hurt her husband, she wished her laughter could reside in these halls once again. And for always.
Chapter Seventeen
Isabel remained at Scarlett Hall three days following the party, and each day was filled with the joy of being with Nathaniel and her sisters once again. They laughed and reminisced about days past. Of when their father chased them around the house when they were little—even Nathaniel experienced this, although less often than the girls—or when they played Blind Man’s Bluff in the back garden. How they laughed when they recalled their father tumbling into a rose bush and emerging with multiple scratches on his face and hands, as well as a tear in the sleeve of his coat! All that so he could retrieve a ball that had bounced into the flowerbed.
Isabel returned to Camellia Estates with reluctance, but she had little time to settle back into her daily routine the following day when she came down the stairs in the morning to find Laurence returned home with a gift. It was not the typical present—no jewelry or flowers or some sort of trinket to please her. No, he returned with a young woman with dark hair and a fair complexion perhaps a year or so younger than Isabel.
“I would like you to meet Nancy, your lady’s maid.”
Isabel had forgotten that Laurence had conducted interviews in order to procure a woman to assist her, and she was unsure how she felt about that. At Scarlett Hall, everyone dressed themselves—their father had insisted that the expense was unnecessary, and their mother agreed. Now that she was a duchess, however, it would not be becoming of her not to have one, at least according to Laurence.
Nancy bobbed a curtsy as she continued to stare at the floor. “It is an honor to serve you, Your Grace,” she said in a soft voice.
Laurence grasped his lapels with pride as if he had procured the Crown Jewels. “She was trained under the careful eye of the lady’s maid to Lady Clancy.”
“I am glad you are here, Nancy,” Isabel said with a warm smile as she donned a kidskin glove. “I am certain that Mrs. Atkins will see you to your room. I am leaving for the day, but we will speak later when I return.”
“Isabel,” Laurence said in a firm tone, “I believe it is imperative you spend time with Nancy. She will be expected to begin her services as soon as possible, but if she is unaware of what those services are, today will be a waste of her time.”
“I had thought that since Nathaniel…”
“He has seen enough of you already,” he replied, his voice bearing a sternness she had not expected. “I have work I must complete.” He stalked down the hallway, or stalked as well as he could with his limp.
Isabel felt a surge of frustration course through her. Nathaniel would be gone in just a few days, and her plans for the day were ruined. However, Laurence was her husband, and therefore, she sighed and shook her head, removing the gloves once again.
“You served with Lady Clancy?” Isabel asked Nancy.
“Yes, Your Grace. Or at least I was trained by her lady’s maid.” She had a distinct Irish accent that Isabel found endearing. “Lady Clancy, she let me do some of Peggy’s duties so I could practice.” She still had not looked at Isabel. “I hope I meet your approval.” The last was barely audible, and Isabel could see the girl was apprehensive. Despite her nervousness, she possessed a warmness that Isabel liked.
“I am sure we will get on beautifully,” Isabel replied. She sighed and glanced down the hallway toward the study. “Follow me.” She led Nancy up the stairs and down the hallway to her bedroom. “I believe the servant’s staircase is through that door.” She pointed at a nondescript door at the end of the hall and laughed. “I am afraid I am relatively new to Camellia Estates, as well, so we may be learning our way around together. As a matter of fact, we can tour the house now, if you would like, and we will see how much I have learned in the past month. Would you like that?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Nancy replied.
Isabel placed her fingers on the girl’s chin and lifted her face. “There is no need to look down when you speak to me,” she said kindly. “I might be a duchess, but I am also a woman.”
Nancy gave her a shy smile. “Yes, Your Grace.”
They toured the entire house, Isabel introducing Nancy to servants as they encountered them—Isabel was surprised she remembered all their names—and when they were done, they returned to Isabel’s bedroom.
“You will be tending me most of the time, of course, but Mrs. Atkins will also have duties for you at times. Have I missed anything do you think?”
The girl’s eyes widened. “Why, no, Your Grace. At least, I don’t think so. But if I have any questions, I’ll ask. That’s all right, isn’t it?”
Isabel took Nancy’s hands in hers. “Never be afraid to speak to me or to ask questions.” When she received a smile for her words, she added, “Now, Mrs. Atkins will be in the kitchen at this hour, so go search her out and she will show you to your room.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Nancy said with a quick curtsy before heading toward the door that led to the servants’ stairway.
Isabel smiled when the woman was gone. It was strange how she had a heart for those who served, and yet Juliet acted as if they were subhuman. Yet, Juliet only acted as society dictated, and Isabel knew her own treatment of the servants was rare for one in her position.
The clock on the mantle showed it was just past noon. She still had plenty of time to go see Nathaniel, so Isabel set off in search of Laurence. However, when she entered the study, she found it empty. Neither was he in the library or the drawing room. After knocking on his bedroom door and receiving no reply, she went to the ballroom intent on going to the hidden room he had shown her.
However, she was surprised when she found him sitting upon a stool before a set of canvases on easels in front of one of the large windows in the ballroom, a tarpaulin stretched out over the floor to keep paint from staining the polished wood.
“Ah, Isabel,” Laurence said without even a glance over his shoulder. It was not a pleased greeting but rather one a headmaster would give to a student sent to him for misbehaving. “Has Nancy become acquainted with our home?”
“Yes,” Isabel replied as she walked over to him. “What are you doing in the ballroom?”
“I decided that it was time to bring my work out into the open,” he replied as if it was a natural step to take. “I no longer wish to hide what I do.”
She studied the canvas
before him and was impressed by the bold colors he used to depict a field with a tree to the left. “It is beautiful,” she whispered as she looked over his shoulder.
Laurence made no reply as he cleaned his brush and took another from the small table beside him.
“I did as you asked,” she continued with determination. “May I return to Scarlett Hall to see my brother once more before he returns to school?”
Laurence dabbed at the canvas, adding lighter green to the rolling landscape, but remained silent.
“Laurence?”
“The party we attended for your sister?” he asked. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
“I did.” She looked at the back of his head with suspicion. There was a strange tone in his voice, as if he asked but did not care what she answered. “Did you?”
He laughed as he cleaned the brush once more and then placed it in a cup. “How kind of you to ask.” This time she did not miss the sarcasm in his voice. “My leg,” he turned and faced her “pained me when I was speaking with your mother.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” she said. “I did not know…”
“No, you did not,” he retorted. “You were nowhere to be found.”
Isabel took a step back from the heat of his anger, although he had not raised his voice. “It was Juliet,” she said, hoping he would understand. “She needed to be cared for.”
However, her hope was dashed when he replied, “She has a mother, and that is not you.”
Now Isabel grew angry. How dare he speak so crassly to her. Of course he would not understand the relationship she shared with her family. After seeing how he and Harriet treated one another, she could see he had no idea of what family consisted. “I am sorry about your leg,” she said, attempting to keep her anger from her words. “Truly, I am.”
Laurence shook his head and walked over to a window that looked out at the gardens. “It is not my leg, nor Juliet, that bothers me.”
“Then what is it?” Isabel demanded, tired of this game. She had no desire to anger the man further, but he was infuriating! “Tell me so I can make it right.”
Secrets of Scarlett Hall Box Set: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance Collection Page 14
