by Tia Siren
''Yes, of course, I will find out and inform you, as soon as I can.''
''Have you had word from your father while he has been locked up?''
''Yes, my Lord.''
''And how is he?''
''Thank you for your kind interest,” Isabella said. “I'm afraid things are not going well for him. He has bronchitis and the damp nature of the place is making it worse. I am terribly afraid for his health.''
''I will see what I can do about it. I know the Home Secretary. I’ll ask him to move your father to a more hospitable place.” The Duke glanced back down at his papers. “Thank you Isabella, that is all.''
Isabella went to her room. As she lay on her bed and wiped away her tears, she wondered what on earth had possessed her not to tell the Duke about her father. Of course the Duke was right. It did reflect badly on him, the children and the household. She had been inconsiderate and she would try to make amends. The worst of it was, the Duke now had a low opinion of her. She would speak to Harriet and get her to drop the ludicrous idea of inviting her to the ball.
She picked up 'Sense and Sensibility' and took comfort in Mr. Willoughby. It was July, and this day had been exceptionally warm. The room was stuffy. After a while she got up and opened the window. The window was huge, stretching from thigh level, right up to the ceiling. As she was pulling the lower half of the window up, she saw the Duke walking across the lawn. His dogs were busily running in and out of the flower beds looking for rabbits. To her horror, a young lady was walking next to the Duke, holding onto his arm. Isabella strained her eyes and tried to see if she knew the young lady, she didn't. Isabella spent the evening wondering who the woman was, and what interest the Duke had in her.
****
''Harriet,'' Isabella exclaimed as she saw her walking past the open door of the tutorial room. ''I need to speak to you.''
Harriet stopped. They continued their conversation in the corridor, out of earshot of the children.
''What on earth's the matter? The way you shouted my name, I thought the world was coming to an end,'' Harriet said.
''You can't do it.''
''Do what?''
''You can't invite me to the ball,'' Isabella whispered.
''Isabella, my dear friend, you will come to the ball. I insist on it.''
''I won't. I have decided. I spoke to your brother yesterday and I have upset him terribly. Your plan is scuppered. There is no chance the Duke will look at me now. Although he wouldn't have looked at me anyway. Your scheme was insane right from the start, and now I'm putting an end to it.''
''Do you mean you offended him, by not telling him your father is in prison?''
''Oh, heavens. You know as well. Please believe me, I am so sorry. I know I have offended your family, and the household. If I could change the situation I would.''
''Isabella, you are silly. I am not in the slightest worried for myself or the household.''
''But the Duke told me he was disappointed in me.''
''The Duke often says things he doesn't mean. He has to deal with lots of people every day. He's just made a mistake, that's all. When he sees you at the ball in front of him, he will fall head over heels in love with you. Trust me.''
''He is already in love with another woman.'' Isabella cringed at her careless remark. She had no idea who the woman on the Duke's arm had been, and she certainly couldn't ascertain whether they were in love or not.
''What are you talking about?''
''Yesterday evening, I saw your brother walking arm in arm with another woman.''
''Ah, yes. Lady Victoria. She's the daughter of Lord and Lady Somerset. Awfully rich and well to do. My brother seems to like her and she has been here a couple of times. But she isn't a patch on you. You will see, I am right. Now go back to the children and stop fretting.''
''I admire your confidence in me, I really do. But I will not go to the ball. I will not embarrass the Duke with my presence.''
Isabella turned around and went back to the children. Their beaming faces made her feel better, but she was upset that Harriet seemed intent on putting her in an intolerable situation.
****
Isabella changed into her best dress, a white muslin affair with a high neckline. The edges were adorned with Egyptian ornamentation. Isabella didn't particularly care for the ringlets that most women seemed to choose. She parted her dark hair in the middle and let it hang naturally.
When she was ready, she descended the grand staircase and walked to the Duke's study. The door was open and she saw the Duke stroking one of his Spaniels.
''My Lord,'' she said softly so as not to shock him.
''Come in,'' he said, as his eyes fixed on her breasts. It was the first time he had seen her display any flesh, whatsoever. ''You wanted to see me? Harriet told me.''
''Yes, my Lord. I want to say thank you.''
''For what?''
''For having my father moved. I have had word from him, and he has told me his bronchitis is much improved. He is in a less hostile establishment in Norfolk. I believe the country air will be more sympathetic to his condition. Thank you very much for arranging it. I appreciate it more than you could ever know.''
''I am pleased he is improved.''
''One more thing, my Lord. You asked me to tell you the sum of my father’s debts.''
''Ah, yes. Just a minute, I'll write it down. Go ahead.''
''I am ashamed to mention the figure, my Lord. It is an astronomical amount.''
''Perhaps it is. However, you shouldn't let that prevent you from telling me.''
''Three thousand pounds.'' Isabella dropped her eyes to her lap in shame.
''That is indeed a vast sum. Not insurmountable but nonetheless a large sum. Thank you for telling me. How are the children coming along?''
''Very well my Lord. I have every faith in them. They will all have bright futures.''
''Tell me Isabella.” The Duke leant forward. “Please do not think me intrusive, but where is your mother while your father is in prison?''
''She passed away.''
''Of what?'' he asked, suddenly regretting it. ''I am sorry that was indelicate of me. It is none of my business.''
''I suppose it could be called poverty.''
''Do you mean she had nothing to eat?'' he asked, alarmed at the thought.
''My Lord. My father was in debt, the bailiffs took everything and they did indeed have precious little to eat. My mother was not strong physically and it was too much for her.''
''Was that before you came to work here?''
''My mother died a few months after I came here, my Lord.''
''What? And you didn't tell me?''
''No.''
''Why? You should have done. We are wealthy. Harriet and I could have helped you.''
''Sir, it was at a time just after your wife had passed away. It seemed indelicate to burden you with my problems.''
''Does nobody tell me anything, in my own home? Please tell me Isabella, am I an intimidating man?''
Isabella was taken aback by his question. ''What exactly do you mean by intimidating?''
''Are people frightened of me? In other words, are people so scared of me, they won't confide in me?''
''My Lord it is not my place to …...''
''Nonsense. As governess to my children, I am sure you are well placed to answer my question.''
Isabella had a sudden burst of courage. He wanted to know, she would tell him. ''Yes my Lord. You are an intimidating man. Sorry, I don't mean to use that word. Authoritarian would be a better word. You have an authoritarian air about you.'' When she looked at the Duke, she noticed her comments had hurt him.
''Do you mean that, Isabella? Is that how people view me?'' The Duke appeared so handsome with a look of concern across his face.
''Yes, my Lord, I am afraid they do.''
''And what do you propose I do about it? I would much prefer people to feel they can approach me and confide in me.''
''Perhaps i
t's because you lost your wife but you don't smile at people. A smile goes a long way. You appear distant and lacking in interest for others. I am sure you are none of those things. But if you smiled more often, I am sure you would find others more open to confiding in you.''
''Thank you, Isabella, for having the courage to tell me that.''
''It wasn't a question of courage my Lord. You asked me, I didn't offer the information openly.''
''But you could have lied, and told me I was perfect,'' he said, a chuckle passing his lips.
''That's what I mean, my Lord. Now you are smiling. You look so much more approachable.'' Dashing.
''I have decided to marry again,'' he said unexpectedly.
Isabella was aghast. Was it Lady Victoria? Harriet hadn't indicated the Duke was close to marriage. On the contrary. ''That will be very good for you, my Lord. I am pleased you have reached that decision. May I ask who the lucky lady is?''
''I have no idea.''
Isabella could breathe again. ''That is interesting. You have decided to marry again, but you don't know to whom?''
''No. I have no clue. My mind is open. All I know is my sister and I are holding a ball at which I will endeavor to find a bride. How do you think the children will react to having a new mother?''
''I think they will need some time to adjust. After that, if the lady in question is sensitive, I am sure they will be very happy.''
''Yes, I thought much the same. I wish to ask you one more thing Isabella.''
''Yes my Lord, please do.''
''Would you please help me to choose what I will wear to this ball? My sister has no taste for male clothing and I have nobody else to ask. I want to find someone with the same social standing as myself. It's got to be a Duchess or Baroness. If I dress like a pauper, I will end up with someone from a different background. Such marriages never work.''
Isabella glanced down at her dress. ''Yes my Lord, I would be delighted to help you. If my Lord will excuse me now, I need to lie down. It's been a hard day and terribly hot.''
When Isabella closed the door to his study, she leaned against the wall and slowly sank down onto her haunches. So that's it. He wants a Duchess and he sees me as his valet, she thought. A large lump was developing in her throat and she felt the need to cry. She ran up to her room, slammed the door shut and banged her fists into the mattress. Her mood was not helped when she saw the Duke wandering over the lawn with Lady Victoria again.
Just before she went to bed, Isabella prayed again. ''Dear Lord, please forgive my shortcomings and anything I have done today which may have displeased you. I would like to ask you to look over the Duke during this difficult time. Please guide him to make choices in his life that will make him happy now, and always. Thank you Lord that my father is now in a more comfortable place. Finally Lord, and I do not ask this lightly, please help me to rid myself of the incessant feelings of misguided love I feel at this time. I am tormented by intense waves of jealousy and envy, which are burning deep through my soul. Please guide me through the next days, that I may be stronger and free of pain. Amen.''
****
''Isabella, perfect timing,'' Harriet said as she saw her friend walking down the corridor. ''A week to go. We need to get you some clothes. On your day off, we will go to town and buy you the most splendid gown and shoes. Not to forget a masque.''
''Harriet, I will go to the ball as you requested, but not to woo the Duke into something he clearly doesn't want. Do you understand me?'
''The Duke doesn't know what he wants. Until we show him what a beautiful woman you are, how can he know?''
Isabella was tired of Harriet's scheming, but she had decided to go along with it, that the whole business may be over with. She would go to the ball and the Duke would chose his bride. It would not be her. Harriet would give up her silly idea and then she could get on with her duties once again. She only hoped her prayers would be answered and that her feelings towards the Duke would change from ones of searing love and desire to the kind of love one has for a brother.
''Alright, we will go to town on Saturday,'' Isabella sighed. Harriet gave a little jump as her scheme took another step forward.
****
Truro was a bustling town of some ten thousand inhabitants. Only a short distance away from Sleningford Castle, it was the most convenient place for Harriet and Isabella to go shopping. The town was home to many tin mine owners who had built themselves impressive homes along the main streets. The main shopping street was a lady's delight. From millinery to haberdashery, it had it all. Harriet had one particular shop in mind, as she walked arm in arm with Isabella down the busy street. 'Longdons, Dresses for Fine Ladies.' It was a shop for wealthy women who wanted to buy something unique for a special occasion.
When Harriet opened the door, Isabella heard a quaint bell ring. She walked into the most enchanting shop she had ever been in. On each side wall, there were racks of gowns. Not one the same. There were two arm chairs in the middle of the room and a French style desk which Isabella presumed was the sales counter. When she looked more closely at the dresses, she noticed every color she had ever known and some she hadn't.
''Miss Harriet, welcome back. It's so lovely to see you. We have had so many ladies here over the past few days, all invitees to the ball.''
''Thank you Mrs. Richardson. I do hope you haven't sold all the best gowns. This is my good friend, Isabella. I want nothing but the best for her. As you can see, she dresses in rather a frumpish manner. I want you to make her the desire of all men. I want a gown of fantastic beauty, but also of the utmost allure. I want it to turn heads. This young lady has the finest figure in all Cornwall, please help her to show it.''
Isabella turned a bright shade of pink at the thought of having all the men at the ball devour her figure with their eyes. Mrs. Richardson seemed like a kind lady. Isabella decided she would have a quiet word with her when they were in the fitting room.
''Well, it's lovely to meet you Miss Isabella. Let's have a look at you.'' Mrs. Richardson stood back and cast her expert eye over Isabella. ''Indeed you are right, Miss Harriet, she does have the most charming figure. Although it is barely visible under these baggy clothes, I do have an eye for these things, and she is perfect for what I have in mind.''
Isabella wished to scream but she remained calm and awaited her fate with grace. Mrs. Richardson was a woman in her late fifties. Of small stature, she looked as though she enjoyed cakes a little too much. Her long gray hair fell around her face quite charmingly. It gave her a motherly look and Isabella was sure she could trust her to select a charming dress for her.
Mrs. Richardson walked to a rack of gowns and pulled one out. It was deep red. When Isabella saw it, her trust in Mrs. Richardson began to wane. ''Let's try this one. You told me you wanted allure Miss Harriet. How about we go one step further. Passion. Deep red is a passionate color, it works wonders on a man's senses. She'll have them falling at her feet in this. Follow me, Miss Isabella.''
Isabella pulled an awkward face and reluctantly followed Mrs. Richardson into a fitting room. Once inside, Isabella was dismayed to see the walls covered in full length mirrors. Her sorrow was compounded by what seemed like a thousand candles lighting the room so fully, there was no shadow for her to hide in.
''Alright, Miss, please take off your clothes, all of them.''
''But I can't, I mean....... I don't want to.....I'm so.''
''Nonsense, Miss. I hope you will believe me when I tell you that you are the most beautiful young lady I have had the pleasure of fitting. Now, off with your clothes.''
Mrs. Richardson had changed from the nice motherly figure Isabella had thought her to be, into an ogre. Isabella didn't want to stand naked before her, but it seemed she had no choice. Slowly she peeled off layer upon layer of loose fitting clothing, until eventually she stood as naked as the moment she was born. She crossed her arms over her breasts and bent her pelvis back, hoping Mrs. Richardson didn't look at her most secret place.
''Really, Miss, I have no idea why you made such a fuss. Look at you, perfect. You have a great bust and such a tiny waist. I will be able to show you off as never before. Your bottom is delicate yet full and this gown will hug you and show you off perfectly. You seem to lack confidence, Miss Isabella, but you needn't. I have seen more naked women than I care to remember, probably well into the thousands, and you are in the top ten when it comes to figure shape. Now just stand there while I put this over your head.''
Harriet sat in the shop, watching people pass by the window. When Mrs. Richardson appeared, Harriet looked round eagerly. Isabella put her head around the door and looked to see if there was anybody else in the shop. When she saw there wasn't, she walked out of the fitting room and stood a couple of yards from Harriet.
''Oh, heavens. I'm going to cry,'' Harriet exclaimed. ''Mrs. Richardson, you are a genius. Isabella, you look stunning. Please do not wear those horrible baggy clothes ever again. In fact, Mrs. Richardson, please put the clothes she arrived here in today, into the dustbin. As well as this gown for the ball, we will take another two dresses for day wear.''
''But, Harriet, I can't possibly afford...''
''Mrs. Richardson put all of them on my account please.''
''But, Harriet....''
''Do not argue. Now let me have a proper look at you.'' Harriet walked around Isabella and made her feel like a tailor's dummy. What Harriet saw was indeed a miraculous transformation. The gown was from satin and deep red. It was remarkably daring, and Harriet knew her brother's jaw would drop when he saw it. It had the shortest of sleeves, giving it the appearance of being sleeveless, and a décolleté that plunged into the deep valley between Isabella's breasts. Lower, the dress hugged her bottom, showing it to perfection, before blossoming into to a fuller shape. ''I really am going to weep,'' Harriet reaffirmed. ''It is more than stunning. When we get some jewelry on you, you will be a very dangerous woman indeed.''
Isabella smiled awkwardly. The dress made her feel strange. On the one hand feminine and seductive, on the other hand vulnerable.
