It was not that she missed her father, nor even did she want him there. It was just the idea that she was genuinely uncared for in this world. At least uncared for by anybody who could do anything to preserve her circumstances. If only Esme were there with her; if only she could hold her friend’s hand for one last time. The thought of it finally made her cry. And it was the first time she had cried in all of it; from the moment her father had declared she would marry, these were the first tears she had shed.
Her resolve to remain steadfast had finally broken.
“There, there, my dear,” Kitty said, and Isabella was relieved that she had chosen an endearment rather than Your Grace. “Just because you have left behind a family of little care does not mean that you have walked into another just the same. You will find people here who cared greatly, really you will. There is little wonder that you are afraid, what young woman would not be? And I shall help you in any way I can, and you will find that I am not the only one. You will be cared for, my dear, really you will.” Kitty had perched awkwardly on the side of the bed and had reached out to take Isabella into her arms.
Whilst she was the maid, she was still an older woman with much more idea about the world and its goings-on than Isabella had. And, in the style of many an older woman, she could not bear to see a younger woman so distressed, so wanting for affection, and not provide it.
And, for her part, Isabella could not have been more grateful. She needed a friend more than anything in the world.
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A Damsel for the Mysterious Duke_A Historical Regency Romance Page 30
