by TYNER, LIZ
‘I wrote. And I wrote to my sister once and I sent a message to the butler once. I have been kept informed.’
She sighed—and he could hear melody in it and it lasted long enough for a sentence in a song.
Papers flew up over her head again. ‘I have shopping to do.’ She made a brushing-away movement with her hand. He didn’t leave.
She left the room momentarily and returned to the doorway, wearing a brown pelisse and carrying a bonnet with a small plume. The plume fluttered as she talked. ‘And Sophia is expecting me afterwards.’
She turned, pulling the door closed, but reversed direction and poked her head back around it, one hand holding the wood firm. ‘She has been so concerned about Marvel and Ivory. We have talked of little else.’
He clasped the door, immobilising it. He could not take his own gaze away. ‘I think this is our first disagreement.’
‘Oh, no.’ She lowered her chin and fixed him with a gaze. ‘It is just the first you are aware of.’
‘My Aunt Emilia became ill.’
‘I know. Sophia informed me. Thank you for letting her know when her Aunt Emilia was on the mend. She passed the news of the illness and the recovery along to me as you requested. Also the concern you had for me. Thank you.’
He flicked away the words with a blink. ‘It was a serious time, Isabel. Rosalind and Harriet needed me to speak some sense into my father so he did not send us all into poverty. My sisters had tried and despaired, and Father wrested the control back, as he well could. It seems my marriage has made him take note of a world of things he’s ignored for years. Now he wishes to make up for lost time. He has years to catch up on. And he would not listen to Rosalind. I had to convince him the girls know what they are doing and he can learn from them.’
She studied his face. ‘Did it hurt your writing hand?’
‘I didn’t think you’d find it odd that I didn’t correspond.’ His eyes roamed around the room, taking time so she could note the appraisal. ‘You have managed to find ways to keep yourself busy.’
He pulled the door wide so she could go before him and she returned to the room.
‘You noticed.’ Her smile brought the outdoors sunshine closer. ‘I hope you like the changes.’
‘Of course.’ He examined the room. He could not tell her he wished the changes gone. He sat on the sofa and put his arm along the back. ‘Do you have any more renovations planned?’
‘Not at the moment.’ She raised her brows and walked into the room, also spending more time examining the furnishings than warranted. ‘But I have a cat. He’s not a handsome cat, but he’s very lovable once he becomes acquainted and if he’s not startled.’
‘I am sure it is a quite suitable cat.’ The new arrival William’s butler had mentioned during the entire contents of one post and said that he had personally overseen the hair-removal process from the rugs, daily, but he had not perfected a method to remove scratches on furniture or boots.
‘Rambler.’ Her voice rose with authority. ‘He was meowing most pitifully at the gate and someone had thrown something at him. I had to save him.’
He reached out, picking a hair from the sofa and letting it drift to the rug. ‘The cat is black?’
‘Yes. Just do not get too close. He does take a bit of getting used to. The butler claims deep concern that his owner misses him and has sent out servants daily to find his owner. We don’t expect success.
‘I should tell you…’ She forced a smile. ‘I might have overspent on the painting. But in time I am sure it will increase in value. Mr Lawrence is quite good.’
‘Thomas Lawrence?’
She paused, eyes down. ‘I do not believe that was his given name. He said that I can return it and receive the funds back.’ She examined the painting, the wistfulness of her own face matching that portrayed in the oils.
‘Do you like it?’ He wanted to see her eyes sparkle again.
‘Not as much as I thought.’
‘I am pleased you’ve made the house comfortable for you.’ Easy words to say. ‘But please do not select any houses or large properties without discussing it with my man-of-affairs. He has quite a good business sense about him. He purchased the Roubiliac sculpture—which I don’t see about.’
‘It is gone. The cat toppled it and it landed somehow against the grate and collected a quite unsightly chip.’
He inhaled and exhaled completely before speaking. ‘Well, I only bought it as an investment.’
Her brows rose. ‘Just how much money do you have?’
‘Enough to make you content.’
She put her hands behind her back and moved to him with a swaying motion that reminded him of a wary creature sneaking up on a meal. ‘How much funds do you think it takes to make one happy?’
‘Happy. I am not sure if that is possible to purchase. But content, I think, can be.’
‘Are you content?’
He leaned forward, fingers steepled together, chin down and eyes direct into hers. ‘Isabel. We are doing quite well with this marriage. I would like to think we are both content with each other, or will be as the years pass. I will be certain not to cause tales which might distress you.’
Her chin rose. ‘Your sister has told me of your parents’ deep love. My parents have a—’ her eyes became lost ‘—a considerable amount of love for each other.’
‘It is quite unnecessary in our marriage.’ He had to make certain they were in agreement on this. He’d already been considering moving out for Isabel’s own good. If she were to fall in love with him, and anything were to happen to him, he could not bear the thought of her world turning black.
*
She tensed. ‘My parents find it pleasing.’ She had understood that she didn’t matter quite so much in her parents’ lives as they did to each other, but she’d hoped for that same devotion so many times. She’d thought that once William returned and saw the house with the changes she’d made to make it feel a home, that perhaps he’d realise he’d missed her just a little and he’d like the town house better. She didn’t expect as many hugs as the maid had given her upon first returning from the school, but a lingering glance would have been nice.
‘Isabel. It’s not for everyone and it isn’t healthy.’
‘Healthy?’ She almost squeaked.
‘To get so mired in another’s life. It’s not something I would wish for you.’
‘I am willing to take the risk.’
‘You shouldn’t. You’ve not seen what it can do.’ He stood and his eyes glanced at the doorway. ‘I suppose I should let my friends know I am back in town.’
‘You’ve not yet let them know you’ve returned?’
He shook his head. ‘I took each day as it happened, so I couldn’t let anyone know of the dates.’
‘Then perhaps you could wait just a bit to return to them. I’ve been wishing so much to see my friend in the country, Joanna. She is with her husband, Luke, visiting his father and has asked if we might like to join them at the Earl’s family home. I’ve always wanted to see Pensum Manor.’
‘I’ve visited it in Hertfordshire once with my parents. It’s a fine estate. I’ll have my valet return the portmanteau to the carriage and prepare for another trip.’
‘You really do not like being in this house much, do you?’ She’d thought the extra furniture she’d added might make it more comfortable for both of them, but she’d not been able to fool herself into thinking it the home she wanted and apparently it did no more for him.
‘Not more or less than any other. They are all the same to me.’
‘No place is really your home. Not even here.’
‘If it doesn’t leak, one roof is much the same as another roof. If it has a mattress that I can sleep on easily, one bed is the same as another. It doesn’t matter much where they are.’
‘I like making this my home. I thought you might like it more, too. You had hardly a stick of furniture.’
‘It’s just because I am pract
ical.’
‘Would you not miss me if I were gone?’
‘Isabel.’ His face clouded. ‘We have discussed it. You will not move and change your name. We’ve agreed on that.’
‘I can go to Pensum Manor on my own,’ she said. ‘I could pretend we are having a quarrel and then…’ She forced a smile. ‘I will get the butler to send me a post in a few days. I will pen it now. And then I will read it privately and confess that I must return as you are…threatening to throw yourself on a pyre if I do not return. Or something even more eventful.’
‘You cannot involve the staff in your—’
‘Yes, I can. I have only not considered it before because I didn’t think of it. I’m not yet accustomed to having so many helpful people about at my disposal.’
‘The pyre is rather dramatic.’
She frowned. ‘Well, saying you are going to throw yourself into a candle will not impress anyone.’
‘I’ll go with you,’ he said. ‘It’s colder out and I could not risk you travelling alone in the winter. Something could happen to the carriage, or the horses, and you would be stranded.’
Isabel clasped her fingers together with an effort to keep herself from twirling about. He was going with her. ‘Can you pretend to be quite fond of me whilst we are there?’
He blinked, but his face softened. ‘I am fond of you.’ Then the stiffness returned to his jaw. ‘Very much so.’
*
The carriage rumbled along on the way to Pensum Manor, springs creaking, jostling the seat, causing Isabel’s head to bob a bit and occasionally bumping her against William. The interior of the vehicle blended the scent of William’s shaving soap with the remnant earthiness of a brief rain shower. Occasional bursts of wind blew a few faded leaves from the trees and made her feel the path had been created just for that moment.
Even the birds flitted about, seeming more active than she remembered. She turned to ask him if he knew the names of them, then paused. He watched her, eyes twinkling.
‘What is so humorous?’ She studied him.
‘You were humming with the movement of the carriage.’
‘I was not.’ Her hand fluttered to rest on the side of the window.
He chuckled, reached up and took a strand of her hair that had escaped, wrapping it into a curl before releasing it. ‘You were indeed. The moment you started watching the birds you began to hum. I wanted to join you.’
Shrugging, she said, ‘I won’t do it again.’
He pulled her fingers to his lips, kissed them and released them. Eyes still gentle, lips still smiling, he tilted his head to her. ‘You may sing for me any time. The melodies you hum are delightful. I enjoy listening. Please continue.’
She touched her left hand to her throat. ‘No. The moment has passed.’
His movements in half-time, he reached out with his left hand, taking her hand from her neck. She’d not realised his right arm rested over her shoulders, until his fingers brushed at her shoulder, cradling her. His eyes, soft and softening her, completed the blanket of warmth. ‘You can’t leave something so much a part of you behind for ever. It would be like leaving behind…’ His arm tensed against her shoulders and his voice roughened. ‘A child.’
Even his arm didn’t warm her now. She focused on the window, thoughts of the past and the school, and how she’d dreamed many times that her parents had left her at an orphanage and never visited her again.
‘Did you dream?’ she asked.
He didn’t answer, but when she turned to him, his face questioned.
‘Of your mother,’ she added. ‘After she died.’
‘No.’ A simple word, tossed out, with no emotion in it. And none in his face.
She’d extinguished the warmth, just as if she’d snuffed a candle. She snuggled back and his arm remained at her shoulders and the carriage rumbled along, a boulder of a man beside her. She didn’t want to be alone.
She rested her hand on his thigh.
His fingers clasped over hers. ‘I didn’t dream of her then,’ he said. ‘Sophia would tell me each time she did and would cry. She dreamed of her every night for months and months. Only recently—have I started dreaming of the past. Of the moments during the first year.’
‘I learned a trick that makes the bad dreams stop,’ she said. ‘It works. I swear by it.’
‘What?’ He drawled the word.
She pulled her free hand up, making a light fist. ‘Right before you go to sleep, you clench your teeth on your knuckle and you think of what you don’t wish to dream of. It works.’
His chest vibrated and she looked into eyes that welcomed her back. ‘Ah…I don’t think I understand. I will crawl into your bed and let you show me just how it should be done.’
Her jaw moved nearer him. ‘It only works if you do it. Alone. I distinctly remember. Alone.’
‘Alone? I will just keep the dreams then.’
He held her still and dusted a kiss in her hair. ‘I’ve heard that kissing a freckle on a woman works just as well.’
‘I suppose it could…’ She snuggled against him, and returned her gaze to the window, wishing the trip could last for ever, but it seemed to be over in seconds.
The grounds of the estate came into view and she could hardly believe it. Even being a governess at a mansion so grand would be an accomplishment.
When the carriage rolled to the front of Pensum Manor, the first thing she saw was her friend Joanna walking hand and hand with Luke in the gardens of his father’s home.
The vehicle had hardly stopped before Isabel jumped out, rushing to her friend.
The moments were delightful as William stepped behind her and introductions were completed.
She felt a part of a fable, in which only goodness thrived and no hint of shadows surrounded them—except the brisk air seeped through her coat, chilling her. They walked into the front doors and she tried not to shiver as she left the cold behind.
*
The first days passed swiftly, but by the third, Isabel sensed an unease in William. He kept watching the other couple as if he disapproved of their affection.
‘Stop frowning,’ she said, after pulling him away from the other couple as they walked in the garden.
‘What are you talking about?’ he asked.
At the other edge of the gardens, Luke turned to pick up a…brown leaf. They appeared fascinated by something as simple as a leaf in which its tree had long past lost interest. She couldn’t tell what they discussed.
She shaded her eyes against the sunlight and examined the couple. Yes, they were entranced in each other and saw only sunshine in the brown, wintery day.
‘It is not so bad, surely, being in love?’ she asked, taking her hand from her forehead. He watched her.
‘Luke and Joanna seem happy with it. My sister seems satisfied with it.’ Just the slightest shrug.
‘Sophia’s husband is quite thrilled with her.’
He frowned, dismissing the importance of the statement. ‘Yes. He throws himself at her feet and is like a puppy begging for her affection.’
‘Please don’t inform him or Sophia of your opinion.’
‘I once told my sister, and she insisted I leave her house and not return.’
‘How did you get her to let you go back?’
‘I showed up the next morning as always. She saw me at breakfast and was silent for a while and then started telling me how wrong I was.’
‘You were wrong. Sophia and I often discuss your errors. Some days it is our favourite thing to speak of.’
His brows gave a quick flick. ‘Thank you for informing me.’
She splayed fingertips at her lips and gasped. ‘I have besmirched you. I didn’t mean such a breach of manners.’ She breathed deeply. ‘An error.’ Then her demeanour became her own. She gave a bow. ‘You may challenge me to a duel. We can have a chuck-farthing contest.’
He chuckled. ‘I have no spare coins. And lest you forget, Songbird, I have been in many drinki
ng establishments in my day and, on occasion, we test our skills.’
‘Lest you forget, I have been to a governess school. In addition to our lessons from our teachers, we also took pride in challenging each other. We played draughts for serious stakes and chuck farthing was the game I preferred.’
‘But I only have a few coins with me.’
‘You don’t need any. I will lend you some. But don’t expect any leniency because you haven’t been to a governess school.’
Dashing to the house, she went to her room and found the small pouch the butler had collected for her. Returning outside, she held the bag in the air and shook it. ‘I will halve this with you but do not get too attached to the coins, Balfour.’
She untied the string, pulled it open and said, ‘Hold out your hand.’
He did and halfpennies tumbled into his grasp.
She stared into his palm, counted and took one back. ‘Now we are equal. Do not try to take unfair advantage before the game begins. I assure you, I’m skilled.’
Their eyes met.
‘I do not even know how many the bag holds,’ he said.
‘You will have to trust me.’ She smiled. ‘Although I would advise against it from this point on.’
‘Where did you get coins?’ he asked.
‘Your butler collected them for me. He is anxious to do my every bidding.’ She smiled. ‘As we speak, he is having a day of respite with a very nice bottle of your wine.’
‘You cannot—he is my servant. I didn’t give him permission.’
‘I did. I asked him if his loyalty could be purchased and he assured me that was impossible as I had it already because my status as mistress of the house commanded his allegiance second to yours. For such a display of service, I could not help but gift him with a token.’
‘You must discuss bribes with me first.’ He closed a fist over the coin.
She leaned forward so her side pressed against his hand and her nose tilted so high it nearly reached his. ‘Shall we decide that with the coin, Balfour?’
‘Songbird, you are out of your league.’ He glanced around, grinning. ‘We must be private about this. I would not want anyone to think my wife willing to wager away the household funds.’
