The Portrait

by Joan Wolf

  He was a quick student. It helped that he had a better seat than most of the English riders I had seen, and his hands were light. We worked in an outdoor ring that Leo had caused to be created with the dimensions of a French ménage, which is always an indoor ring.

  On a day I will never forget Leo and I were working in the ring. Leo was riding Alonzo and I was offering advice. “That’s better,” I called as they came down the long line of the ring. “Try to keep your back supple. Don’t stiffen up. Thighs flat against the saddle. Good, yes—that’s it. Now bring him to a halt.”

  Alonzo halted. “Very nice,” I said as Leo gave Alonzo more rein and walked him toward me. It had been cloudy all day, but at that moment the sun burst through. The brilliant light made Alonzo’s coat shine like silver and illuminated Leo’s bright hair and the splendid bone structure of his face. I thought that the two together looked as if they could conquer the world.

  They pulled up in front of me and Leo grinned. His eyes were shining like twin sapphires. He said, “He’s wonderful.”

  I smiled back. It was impossible not to. “You kept your base better this time. Everything in classical equitation—and I mean everything—depends upon the seat.”

  His eyes grew even bluer. “A word of praise from Isabel. I’m inspired.”

  I went to Alonzo’s head and ignored his rider. “You are such a good boy to put up with a beginner on your back,” I said, rubbing his face.

  Alonzo blew out through his nose.

  Leo dismounted. “I have always been accounted an excellent rider. I think you could have more sympathy for my self-esteem, Isabel.”

  “Your self-esteem needs no help from me,” I told him tartly. “Everyone on this estate thinks you’re just one step down from God.”

  “But you don’t think that.”

  “Certainly not,” I said. I handed him Alonzo’s reins. “I need to work him for a little,” I said as I ran up the stirrup to fit my height.

  “Go ahead,” he said equably. “I’ll watch.

  *

  I rode for a half hour then Leo and I returned Alonzo to the stable where he would be brushed and put out in his grassy paddock until it was time for his dinner. As we walked toward the house Leo said casually, as if he were not imparting any news of note, “I heard from your mother this morning. She has arrived home from a visit in Ireland and only just got my letter about you. She will be here on Friday.”

  My stomach contracted and my heart beat faster. Leo had told me about my mother’s absence from England and I had deliberately put her out of my mind. This news was not welcome.

  Leo stopped walking and I stopped as well. I looked up at him and lifted my eyebrows in inquiry.

  “Isabel.” The way he said my name was different and it put me on guard. “Why don’t you want to meet your mother?”

  I parried. “Why should you think I don’t want to meet her?”

  “Because you freeze up every time I mention her.”

  I started walking, my back and shoulders stiff with resistance. How could I tell him how I really felt—that if I were nice to this other mother, I would be betraying my mother in heaven.

  He caught me up and walked beside me, shortening his long gait to suit mine. I said, without looking at him, “I already have a mother. I don’t need another one.”

  “Ah,” he said. “So that is it.”

  “Yes, that is it,” I snapped back.

  We walked a few more steps then he put his hand on my arm and forced me turn to face him. I wanted to pull away, but his blue stare held me in place. In a quiet level voice he said, “This meeting isn’t about you, Isabel. It’s about Maria. After nineteen years of agonizing about what might have befallen her stolen baby, she deserves to know you are well and that your life has been a happy one.” He tightened his grip on my arm, “Why can’t you understand that? You could have been sold to the worst sort of people. You could have spent your life working yourself to death in a slum. You could have been pushed into prostitution at the age of five. There are men who like little girls and I’m sure you were a very pretty one. Can’t you understand how terrible it has been for her not to know? To see you now, healthy and happy, will give her peace of mind.”

  I swallowed and looked at the ground. I had never tried to look at my situation from Maria’s point of view. I hadn’t wanted to. I had only been thinking of myself. I looked up into Leo’s blue eyes and said in a low voice, “You’re right. My mother in heaven must be ashamed of me. She would want me to be kind to this other mother.”

  The hand on my arm pulled me closer and I was enveloped in a warm, approving hug. I should have felt safe and comforted by his embrace, but the feel of his strong body against mine provoked a different sort of feeling. I wanted to put my arms around him and press even closer, I wanted….

  Before I could do something stupid, an alarm went off in my brain and I backed away.

  His arm dropped as soon as he felt me move. As I began to walk on, I said, “I will be nice to her. I promise. I will be nice.”

  “Good girl,” he said. His voice sounded gruff and I wondered if I had insulted him by pulling away. The two of us turned onto the path that led to the back door of the house and finished our walk in silence.

  *

  It was Thursday and Elisabeth and I were comfortably ensconced in my sitting room when a knock came at the door. I put a finger in the page of the book I never tired of—Ecole de Cavalerie by Francois Robichon de Gueriniere. Elisabeth, who had been doing some sewing, put her work aside and went to answer the knock.

  Leo stood in the doorway. He didn’t come in, he only said, “I have come to tell Isabel that her mother is in the drawing room.” He moved away from the doorway but left the door open.

  Elisabeth came to stand beside my chair. She put her hand on my shoulder.

  “You heard?” she asked softly.

  “Oui.”

  “You must go, my love. Do you wish to change your dress?”

  “Non.” Lady Augusta had taken me into Lambourn to buy clothes to wear until I could go into London to shop in the expensive boutiques she had set her heart on. Today I was wearing a figured muslin day dress that was gathered under my breasts and fell to my ankles. I stood up, swallowed and said, “Pray for me, Elisabeth.”

  She put her arm around my shoulders and gave me a comforting hug. “You will make your Maman in heaven proud, Isabel. I know you will.”

  It was the right thing for her to say, and I straightened my back, lifted my chin, and marched to the door.

  Leo was waiting in the hallway. “Would you like me to go with you or would you prefer to go alone?”

  “I shall do this by myself,” I said, and walked steadily from my sitting room down the hallway to the door that led into the big house then down that hallway to the drawing room. The door was open, and I inhaled deeply and walked in. There was a fire in the fireplace—it was a chilly day for June—and a small figure was standing in front of it looking toward the door. She was dressed in the exact shade of blue that was my favorite color. I stopped when I was about four feet in front of her and we looked at each other.

  Her eyes were hazel, with fine wrinkles fanning out toward her hairline. Her hair was almost white. There were tears in her eyes, but she did not let them fall. “Charlotte,” she said in a wavering voice. “Is it really you?”

  “My name is Isabel,” I said.

  The tears fell.

  My chest felt as if it was being squeezed in a vise. I made myself walk toward her. “There is no need to cry. I am fine. I have always been fine.”

  The sob she gave sounded as if it had been ripped from her soul. What I did next was pure instinct. I put my arms around her and said, “It’s all right, I’m all right, there’s no need to cry…” I kept repeating this as she wept her heart out in my arms.

  She was a small woman with bird-like bones, and I patted her back as I would a child’s. “I am sorry I caused you so much grief,” I said.


  Finally she stopped crying and stepped away from me, wiping her wet cheeks with a lacy handkerchief. “You must think me an idiot, weeping all over you like that.”

  “Not at all,” I replied staunchly.

  She gazed at me out of wet hazel eyes, and I realized that I had better take charge of this meeting or she was going to start crying again.

  “Let us sit,” I suggested. “We can talk better then, yes?”

  She sat on the sofa I pointed to and I sat beside her. “Look,” I said, pointing to the portrait that hung over the fireplace, “that is the reason Leo discovered me. It seems that I look very like his Great-Grandmere.”

  She turned her head to look up at the portrait. Then she looked back at me. “It’s true. You could be twins.”

  “I know,” I said, trying not to sound glum.

  She made a little waving motion with her hand. “Will you tell me a little about yourself? About the family who…who…” She floundered looking for the right word.

  “Adopted me,” I finished.

  “Yes.” She sniffed. “Leo told me they were good people, that we were lucky that bloody nursemaid…” here her eyes flashed, “found them first.”

  “My Maman and Papa were the best people in the world,” I said. “I love them with all my heart.”

  Her eyes closed. “Thank God,” she whispered. “Thank God.”

  She looked so small sitting there in the corner of the sofa. I remembered Leo’s words about how she had suffered, and I felt genuinely sorry for her. So I told her all about the Cirque Equestre and my life with horses. She hung on my every word, looking shocked sometimes, but still listening. I had just finished my recitation when Leo appeared in the doorway.

  “May I join you?” he asked.

  My mother said, “Leo, my dear, I can never thank you enough for finding Ch…Isabel for me. This is the happiest day of my life.”

  I could tell she really meant it, and felt guilty for not feeling the same way.

  Leo came across the thick Persian rug and took the chair that sat at right angles to the sofa. He shot me a questioning look and I nodded to reassure him that I had indeed been a good girl.

  We remained in the drawing room for another half hour until the gong rang, indicating it was time to dress for dinner. My mother and I were still sitting on the sofa and she turned to me and said, “You are an amazing girl, Isabel, and I am so thankful to have met you.” Then she did something unexpected. She ran the back of her hand down my cheek in a gentle caress, and smiled at me.

  That maternal gesture froze me and I stared into the hazel eyes that were fixed on me with such love. “My baby has grown into a beautiful young woman,” she said tenderly, and suddenly I was overwhelmed by emotion.

  This woman was my mother. Everything about me—my blood, my bones, my flesh—she had given me. She had carried me inside her for nine months and given birth to me in pain and suffering. I was part of her, and she was part of me.

  The sob started deep inside me. “Ma mere,” I said. “Ma mere.”

  Small as she was, she gathered me to her, and I cried into her breast. I don’t cry often, but when I do it’s like a storm. I can’t stop.

  It was Leo’s practical voice that finally got through to me. All he said was, “The dinner gong has sounded,” but the calmness of his voice helped me to straighten up and wipe my cheeks.

  “We must both scrub our faces well,” my mother said humorously. “We don’t want the rest of the family to know we have been crying over each other this whole time.”

  I managed a wobbly smile and nodded my agreement. Then the three of us left the drawing room and went up the stairs to change for dinner.

  Chapter Ten

  The following morning, I took my mother to meet Alonzo, and he surprised me by the way he responded to her. Alonzo is a very well-mannered horse. He graciously allows other people to admire him, he allows them to pat his neck and tell him how beautiful he is, but he is only affectionate with me. However, when Mother stroked his neck and told him how beautiful he was, he turned and looked down at her. His nostrils dilated and he pushed his head gently into her chest. She murmured some more. He lifted his head and looked at me, then back at her.

  “We must have similar smells,” Mother said. She was smiling but she had tears in her eyes.

  Leo, who had been standing in front of the stable talking to Stoddard, came over. “Saddle up and show your mother just how wonderful he is.”

  So Alonzo and I put on a show just for my mother and she was awed. I listened to her express her wonder and appreciation of what she had just seen, and my heart swelled with gratitude. While my mother patted Alonzo and told him what a brilliant horse he was, I looked up at the sky and sent up a message.

  You will always be first in my heart, Maman. You saved me and loved me and taught me how I should live my life. I carry you with me wherever I go. You were the most unselfish person in the world, and I know you don’t begrudge my happiness at finding this new mother. You will always be my Maman.

  As I stood there in the bright English sun, I felt peace envelop me. I had Maman’s blessing. I felt it inside me, warm like the sunlight. I heaved a great sigh of happiness and relief and turned back to my horse and my mother.

  *

  The three of us had a light luncheon after which Leo asked us to accompany him to the library. He had something he wanted to discuss.

  I gave a quick look at Mother and noted her grave face. Leo was grave as well. I had a flash of intuition and wondered if he was going to discuss the money that had been left to me. I had been trying not to mention the subject, thinking I should wait for Leo to bring it up.

  Two chairs waited for us in front of the library desk. After Mother and I were seated, Leo took his own large leather chair behind the desk. An open folder with papers was already in place. He said, “I want to speak to you, Isabel, about the money that has been left to you. I waited for your mother to arrive because I wanted you to have some advice that wasn’t all mine.”

  Mother looked surprised, then pleased. “That was thoughtful of you, Leo.”

  He nodded and their eyes met. He turned back to me and said, “As I previously told you, Henry is your half-brother, the only child of your father and his first wife. He was brought up knowing he would be the next Earl of Mansfield. His mother adored him and treated him as if he were a young princeling. Henry was furious when his father married again in hopes of having more children. He couldn’t bear the thought of sharing his place in his father’s affection. To be blunt, Isabel, he hated you. He hated the attention paid to the sweet little baby who had pushed him out of his place in the sun.”

  Leo paused and looked at Mother. “Would you say that was true, Aunt Maria?”

  In a voice so soft it was barely audible she said, “Yes, Leo. Everything you have said is true.”

  Leo continued, “I am sorry to have to tell you this Isabel but when you were kidnapped, and the entire family was devastated, Henry seemed pleased.”

  Mother said sadly, “That is also true, Leo.”

  This brother sounded like a monster. “Why are you telling me this, Leo?” I asked. “I won’t ever have to meet him, will I?”

  Leo held up his hand. “I hope not, but I can’t promise. He won’t want you to get the money your father willed to you, and he’ll do everything in his power to disprove your claim to be his lost sister.” Leo’s eyes held mine; he looked very serious. “The money is being held in a trust for you, but that trust ends when Henry turns thirty-five. At that time the one hundred thousand pounds will revert back to the estate. Henry has always assumed that money was his, but now that you are here it won’t be.”

  A hundred thousand pounds! That was a huge fortune! “Was my father still hoping I would be found?” I asked Leo in an awed voice.

  Leo and my mother exchanged a look then Leo said carefully, “I think he set up the trust because he didn’t trust Henry’s ability to manage money. Your brother l
ikes the cards too much, and I think this was my uncle’s way of keeping some of the family money out of his hands, at least for a while.”

  I looked down at my tightly clasped hands and swallowed. Without raising my eyes I said, “So my father wasn’t thinking of me when he created the trust?”

  Leo sighed. “I’m afraid not, sweetheart.”

  My mother said quietly, “If he knew that one hundred thousand pounds was being taken out of the estate for you, Isabel, he would be horrified.”

  I raised my eyes and looked at her. She was very pale. I said, “He doesn’t sound like a nice man. I’m glad I had my own Papa instead.”

  My mother smiled at me.

  I turned back to Leo and asked the only question that really mattered to me, “When do I get this money?”

  A look of amusement came across Leo’s eyes and brows and he said, “In some ways you are very French, Isabel.”

  I was insulted. I lifted my chin and said haughtily, “Money is only unimportant to those who have plenty of it. To those of us who inhabit a lesser world, it is extremely important.”

  His amusement turned into a grin. “Yes, mademoiselle.”

  I was annoyed—annoyed that he had made fun of me and annoyed that he was amused. I looked away from him before I said something I might regret.

  Mother said, “Isabel is within her rights to know about her own money, Leo. When will she get it?”

  Thank you, Mother. I gave her a grateful smile.

  Leo became serious. “We first must prove Isabel’s identity to my uncle’s solicitor, James Sinclair. I’m sure Henry will do whatever he can to deny her claim, but one look at the portrait of Beatrice, and Sinclair should be convinced. Once we have done that, it is just a matter of paperwork to end the trust.”

  “When can we meet this solicitor?” I demanded. Leo’s brows drew together and he looked at my mother. I turned and found her regarding me anxiously. She said in her soft, gentle voice, “Do you need this money immediately, Isabel?”