She started and looked more closely. Lightning lit up the sky and the thunder crashed, causing her to gasp and step back. When the rumbling cleared, she looked again, but the man was gone, if he had ever been there at all. She shook her head. She must have simply imagined it.
She turned to the desk and opened the top drawer. She pulled out some loose pieces of paper, but most of them already had writing on them. She gasped when one of them crumbled in her hands it was so old. She carefully laid the others down and looked them over to see what they were. The handwriting and words seemed ancient. She could just barely make them out, but they didn’t all make sense to her. She finally found a date on one of them. 1756.
1756? That was nearly a hundred years ago! She scanned the page again and realized it was some sort of rental agreement.
The Third Earl of Payne does hearby rent ten acres of land and a cottage in perpetuity to one Auberon Dracoia.
Isoline stood up straight and let the words sink in. A writ of agreement between a long-dead earl and Auberon from 1756? That…that simply couldn’t be possible.
A breeze blew, scattering some of the papers Isoline had been looking at. She quickly did her best to gather the pages before they were lost or damaged. She then looked for the source of the breeze. The window she had been looking out just moments ago was now slightly ajar. But she was certain that is had been closed when she last looked out it. She shook her head. It must have been closed but unlatched and the wind blew it free. She closed the window and made sure the latch was tight before she returned to the mysterious writ of deed.
She willed her breath to still and her mind to clear. Certainly, the deed could not have been written for her Auberon. Well, the Auberon she knew. He certainly wasn’t her Auberon. It must have been written for his father or grandfather. Perhaps the Dracoia family had been renting the land from the Granvilles for generations. That would certainly explain why Bellamira was loathed to dismiss him from the estate, as Tristan had suggested. She would not want to evict someone whose family had been renting on the land since before she had married into it.
Isoline shook her head at her own silliness and gingerly placed the papers back into the drawer. Of course, the renter had been one of Auberon’s ancestors. It made perfect sense.
She decided to look for a notebook in her own room so she wouldn’t risk disturbing such ancient records again.
Chapter Ten
The next day, the sky was clear and the air was warm. It was just the beginning of autumn, and here in the north, it could already be chilly this time of year. But today was not one of those days. Isoline paced in her room, wondering why Auberon had not yet called on her. She had not been on a walk for days just in case she ended up not being home if he decided to call. But finally, she decided she was not going to sit around and wait for him to grace her with his presence. She was going for a walk, and if he showed up while she was out, he could wait for her.
Among the new items she had ordered while in town with Bess was a new walking dress and comfortable walking shoes, which she was excited to break in. She took a light wrap with her just in case she needed it and donned a hat to shield her from the sun.
She decided to walk in a new direction, straight north of the manor house, specifically in the opposite direction of Auberon’s cottage. After only a few steps, she could feel the fresh air filling her lungs and releasing any pent-up anxiety. She could hear birds singing and goats bleating. She walked along a fence line and petted the ponies on the other side. She passed some workers in a field who doffed their hats at her. She was truly starting to love it here, to feel like this was home. In only a few days, she would be having luncheon with the vicar and his family and hopefully making some real friends besides her aunt.
Thoughts of her aunt did give her a bit of concern. Last night at dinner, she once again went to bed soon after, complaining of tiredness. Isoline thought her aunt’s face was showing a few more wrinkles than when she had first met her. Her eyes still had a slight fogginess to them and she moved more slowly. Isoline had not said anything because she didn’t want to insult her, but she was worried. Even though her aunt had seemed healthy and spry only a couple of months before, for a woman of ninety it would not be surprising for her to suddenly show her age, Isoline supposed. She had not met many—any—people of such an age in her life so she didn’t know for sure. But something was wrong, or had at least changed. Isoline had no idea what nor any idea of how to bring it up, if she should at all.
Then, of course, there was the issue of the inheritance. Bellamira had not mentioned her will once, and Isoline could not broach the issue. To even inquire about Bellamira’s final wishes could imply that she was interested in a portion of the estate, which could cause Bellamira great offense. All Isoline could do was treat her aunt kindly and hope Bellamira thought well enough of her to leave her something. But she had no way of knowing if Bellamira would do that. She couldn’t count on an inheritance being there for her if Bellamira were to die or lose her faculties.
This was why Isoline needed a friend in her life. Someone she could speak with and relieve her burdens. For now, she could only shake her head and focus on putting one foot in front of another as she enjoyed her morning walk.
As she took another deep breath and rededicated herself to her little adventure, she realized she was in a large open glade surrounded by trees. She had been here before. No, that was not possible. She had never been in this direction. But…she knew this place.
It was the glade from her dreams.
She looked left and right, turned in a complete circle. She was sure of it. She had been here a hundred, a thousand times before while she was asleep.
But now, she was awake.
Wasn’t she?
Of course she was. She had awoken that morning to the light filtering in through her curtains and the doves cooing on the windowsill. She had gone downstairs for breakfast. She then went back to her room, but was restless. Bess helped her dress and she left the house for her walk, ending up here. It was all clear as day in her mind. Yet, somehow, she had ended up here, in the place from her dreams.
She extended her fingers and touched the tips of the grass. It felt the exact same as in her dreams. The same type of grass, the same length of it. She took a few steps and thought it felt strange, not feeling the wet ground under her feet or the blades of glass tickle her calves.
No, she was certainly awake. She was still wearing her new walking dress. She only ever wore her sleeping garment in her dreams.
Perhaps the glade in her dream was based on this one, this very real place. She always thought it had been only a figment of her imagination, but no. It was this glade. It was real. But how was that possible? She had never been to Thornrush Manor in her life. How could she dream of a place she had never seen?
Of course, she also dreamed of him, and she had never seen him either. He seemed to know that she would one day come here. He must have created this place in her mind. After all, he also knew that she would be coming to Thornrush to care for her aunt. All will be well, he had said. He had known it all along that she would be sent here and that she would end up here, in this very glade.
But…how? Who was he? And how was he able to create such images in her mind?
Isoline…
She froze. He was here. Here. But she wasn’t dreaming. How was it possible for him to be here while she was awake?
“Who are you?” she asked. “W-where are you?”
This wasn’t right. He couldn’t simply come to life, appear out of her dreams. She then felt him. Felt his presence somewhere in the glade, somewhere nearby. She looked all around but didn’t see him.
Isoline…
She cried out as she felt his voice and his breath on her ear. She turned her head, but no one was there.
“Show yourself!” she yelled, but no one appeared. Yet, she could still feel him somewhere nearby. She didn’t know why she felt afraid, but she did. He had never hurt her
, and she didn’t believe he ever would. But this wasn’t right. Something was happening, something wrong.
She took off at a run.
Isoline!
She thought she heard him not just say her name, but yell it, and that only spurred her to run quicker toward the edge of the glade. She needed to get back home, back to Thornrush. She realized that she had gotten turned around in the glade and did not know if she was facing the right direction to return home, but she ran nonetheless. The trees surrounding the glade were getting closer. If she could only get there, he would disappear, she was sure of it.
“Isoline?”
As she reached the tree line, someone stepped in front of her, and she screamed in fright.
“Don’t touch me!” she yelled as she broke away from him.
“Isoline? What’s wrong?” Auberon asked.
She gasped and looked up. Auberon! It was him.
“A-Auberon,” she stammered. “What…who…how…”
“Are you all right?” he asked as he placed a protective hand on her shoulder and looked around the glade. “Is someone chasing you?”
She realized then how silly she would sound if she admitted that she had been startled by elements of her dreams while she was awake. It was all so ridiculous. She couldn’t have just had a dream while she was asleep. This wasn’t the same glade! She must have just heard the wind in her ear.
She sighed and shook her head in embarrassment. “I think a rabbit or small dear must have startled me,” she finally said. “It’s nothing. I must look quite a fool.”
He gave her a comforting smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, which still carried a hint of worry. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll escort you back to the house. I was on my way to see you anyway.”
“Really?” Isoline asked, her heart racing with excitement instead of fear. “About time.”
“Forgive my delay,” he said. “I recently had a surge of inspiration and had to start on a new painting. Sometimes when I feel the urge to create, I lose all sense of the world around me.”
“That is quite wonderful,” Isoline said. “I wish I could be so impassioned about something I lost track of time.”
“I am sure that you will find your passion, dear Isoline,” he said.
As he said her name, she feared she had already found it.
As they walked back, she remembered the odd writ of deed she found in the desk in the house.
“Has your family rented that cottage for many years?” she asked.
“My family?” he asked, looking at her curiously.
“Yes,” she said. “Your father, grandfather? I found a writ of deed in my aunt’s house that was signed by an Auberon Dracoia. Were you named after your grandfather?”
“Oh, that,” he said looking ahead, moving a low branch out of their way. “Of course. I had completely forgotten.”
“Forgotten?” she asked with a curious chuckle. “How could you forget? It was dated over a hundred years ago.”
He gave a small laugh in return. “I meant I forgot where the paperwork was. It’s been so long I just take the rental for granted. I suppose I should make sure everything is still legal and up to date in case…”
He paused. Isoline could feel his hesitation. He probably had concerns similar to Isoline’s. They both lived here at Thornrush at the pleasure of her aunt. If the estate became the property of the crown after her aunt’s death, or went to some unknown heir, they could both find themselves out on their ears. They passed by the same workers she had seen earlier, so she knew they were on the right path back, and nodded at them again. They were another concern. She did not know how many tenant farmers and employees there were at Thornrush, but there were many. What would become of them should something happen to her aunt? That was not an eventuality best left to chance. It was an uncomfortable topic of conversation Isoline would have to brook with her aunt…eventually.
“Is something on your mind, Isoline?” Auberon asked after they walked some distance in silence.
She shook her head. “Nothing to bother you with,” she said.
“You are never a bother, Isoline,” he said, and they both slowed as they looked at each other. He reached up and barely, gently touched her cheek. His fingers were warm and soft. She started to close her eyes, to absorb his warmth, but she shook her head and took a step away.
“I’m sorry,” he said, dropping his hand. “I shouldn’t have done that. But your face…You are just so beautiful. I wish to…to learn every line, every freckle. I do wish you would reconsider my offer to paint you.”
She laughed and resumed their walk. “Oh, I see,” she said. “Always the artist. Only ever thinking of your next masterpiece.”
He nodded. “That is true,” he said. “I am never more alive than when I am bringing something to life on canvas.”
“I would love to see your work sometime,” she said as the manor house came into view.
“Of course,” he said. “Come to the cottage whenever you like.”
She blushed a little. She did not think it would ever be appropriate for her to visit his cottage unchaperoned. Perhaps she could convince Bess to accompany her.
As they approached the house, Talbot opened the door without them having to knock, and Isoline handed him her hat and wrap. The usually unflappable butler seemed to start, though, when he saw Auberon.
“Talbot,” Isoline said. “You surely know Mr. Dracoia.”
“Yes, yes of course, Mr. Dracoia,” he said quickly. “Can I help you, sir?”
Auberon entered the foyer and looked around with his hands folded behind his back. “No, Talbot. Thank you,” he said.
“Mr. Dracoia is here to help me evaluate auntie’s incredible art collection,” Isoline said.
“Indeed,” Talbot said, his stoicism returned other than a small quirk of his eyebrow.
“Yes,” Isoline said. “Could you have some tea sent to the office on the second floor.
“Of course, miss,” Talbot said.
“It has been quite some time since I have been here,” Auberon said. “It hasn’t changed a bit.”
“My aunt does seem to be rather set in her ways, in many respects,” Isoline said. “Would you care to see which pieces have already caught my eye?” She started to head up the stairs.
“I’d love to—” he started to say but was interrupted by a shriek from the top of the stairs.
“Traitor!” Bellamira yelled down at them. She was holding a paper in her hand and stared down at Isoline with fury in her eyes.
“Aunt?” Isoline asked. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” Bellamira asked as she gripped her gown and held it tightly as she descended the stairs. “This! This is what’s wrong.”
“Auntie,” Isoline said, trying to calm her down. “We have a guest. You know Mr. Dracoia.”
“I know Mr. Dracoia,” Bellamira snapped. “Or do you think I’ve completely lost my faculties as well?”
“What are you talking about, auntie?” Isoline asked.
“This!” Bellamira said as she thrust the paper at Isoline.
Isoline took it, uncrumpling the page from Bellamira’s furious grip. It was the society page, ripped from the local weekly lady’s journal. Isoline was unaware the community even had a local lady’s journal. She had never seen it among the mail. As far as she knew, they only received the Herald and the Lady’s Newspaper, both from London and a day late since they lived so far away.
But Isoline immediately located the section that had infuriated her so.
The niece and presumptive heir of The Dowager Countess of Payne, Lady Bellamira Granville, finally made her long-awaited debut to the community. Miss Isoline Beresford, twenty-two and unmarried, was seen at the local church followed by luncheon at the Rock and Eagle public house. Miss Beresford was overheard remarking on the poor health of her aunt before buying several new dresses from The Well-Dressed Lady boutique. It is the prediction of this columnist that des
pite Miss Beresford’s age, she will soon be the most eligible heiress in the county.
“This…this is preposterous!” Isoline exclaimed, her hands nearly shaking as she read the paper. “Is this what qualifies as news in this backwater community?”
“Is this why you are here?” Bellamira spat. “Just waiting for me to die so you can take my place as Lady of the Manor?”
“No!” Isoline said sincerely. “I am here because I want to be with my aunt. I love it here, and I love spending time with you. I…I don’t believe I said anything about your health. You are the healthiest woman I know, regardless of age.”
“Well, whether you intended it or not,” her aunt said, regaining her composure but not losing any of her anger, “the whole county now thinks I’m going to keel over any moment. And luncheon in a public house? Have you no sense of decency?”
Isoline’s jaw dropped. “What…what were we supposed to eat? Were we to starve until we came home?”
“Yes!” her aunt cried, exasperated. “Really, Isoline. I cannot begin to express my disappointment.” She shook her head and turned to go back up the stairs.
“I’m so sorry, aunt,” Isoline called behind her, but Bellamira did not acknowledge her. After she was out of sight, Isoline sighed and shook her head.
“I suppose examining Bellamira’s art collection is off the table now,” Auberon said with surprising levity.
Isoline’s head shot up. She had forgotten he was still there. “Mr. Dracoia,” she said. “I am so sorry about that. I don’t know what happened.”
“Think nothing of it,” he said with a smile as he headed toward the door. “Lady Granville has always been a…passionate woman. I’m sure she will calm down soon and all will be well.”
Her heart froze. All will be well. That was the same thing the man in her dreams had told her. Of course, it was a common enough phrase, and Auberon was only trying to quell her fears. She was just on edge from her experience in the glade, and now with her aunt’s outburst…
Dangerous Passions Page 10
