by Abby Ayles
It was more than she could bear to think of all the friends she had made and not be able to say goodbye to a single one of them.
Quickly, she got an idea. She would write a note to each of them. She tried not to dwell on her feelings as she wrote down her love and appreciation for each member of the household who had touched her heart in the last year.
Isabella saved the letter to the duke for last. Part of her hoped that if she never got to the letter, she would never have to actually say goodbye to him. A soft knock on her door told her otherwise.
She opened it a crack to see Samuel, the coachman, standing a bit awkwardly at her door.
“Forgive the intrusion, Miss Watts. Her Grace told me you would need a ride into the village to take the early coach back to London.
“Yes, thank you, Samuel. I am just about finished here.”
“I’ll meet you outside, then,” he added, clearly not comfortable with coming to a woman’s room at night.
Isabella shut the door behind the scurrying young man and sat down at her desk to write her last, and hardest letter. Upon finishing she could barely see if it was, in fact, legible, so many tears were falling down her cheeks.
Isabella, with small bag in hand, set the letters on her pillow with Betsy’s name on the top. She knew the maid would be the first to notice that she was gone in the morning and would do her the favor of distributing the rest.
She left her room and made her way out of the house as quietly as possible. Entering the Wintercrest coach, she took one more look at the manor before turning down the darkened road that lead her away.
Chapter 35
The next morning at breakfast, the family meal was interrupted by a very distraught maid.
“Betsy, whatever is the matter?” Lady Abigail asked, the first to notice the crying servant come in.
“I beg yer pardon on intruding,” she said with a curtsy between sniffles, “but I have some letters here for ye all, Your Grace.”
“Give them all to me,” Lady Wintercrest said, coolly holding out her hand.
Betsy did as she was bid.
“What is this about, Mother?” the duke asked, seeing that Lady Wintercrest had knowledge of what upset the maid.
“Unfortunately, Miss Watts had to leave in a bit of haste last night,” Lady Wintercrest said as softly as she could.
“Leave?” the duke practically shouted, standing. He leaned forward, both long hands on the table, “What do you mean she had to leave? What happened? Where is she?”
The Duke of Wintercrest was little concerned with masking his feelings for Isabella at such horrid news. He couldn’t possibly imagine what would have made her flee the house during the night.
“She has returned to London. She will no longer be in our employment.”
“What did you say to her last night? Did you make her go?” the duke accused.
“She chose to leave all on her own. It came to my attention that there were some issues regarding her character. Now, I know we all cared for her deeply. She felt the same and determined to leave. She hopes to rectify the situation and I truly hope she does.”
“Is this about that awful Mr. Smith again?” the duke replied.
His mother was shocked to see he knew the name.
“I received a letter from her lawyer, not too long ago, that stated she was supposed to be receiving a small allowance from her father’s business and Mr. Smith was withholding it.”
“I am not going to admit that I know everything on the matter,” Lady Wintercrest replied, “but it would make sense for him to remove the allowance if his allegations are true.”
“And what allegation is that?”
“He claims that Miss Watts removed items from the house he inherited for the sum of a hundred pounds.”
“That’s preposterous. You don’t actually believe this?”
“I would like to think not, but she did admit to taking at least one item. A charm, of some sort,” Lady Wintercrest said trying her best to remember the night.
“A locket?” the duke asked, sitting back down in his chair. He realized that not only had he seen her wear that locket almost every day, but it had also arrived in the strangest fashion. Had Isabella sewn the necklace into her hem because she was hiding her crime?
“We all saw her wear such a thing,” the duke said in disbelief that she could ever commit a criminal act. “She admitted as much to me and that she had returned it.”
“As she told me last night. Mr. Smith claims there is much more, however. Neither of us agree that it could be the case, but there are past events against her.”
“She did have all those books in her room,” Lady Abigail chimed in, also in disbelief. “She told me she took them from her father’s library before she came here. They were her favorite books and I didn’t think anything of it.”
“Is it wrong for her to have belongings from her home? Could you imagine being told to leave this house and take nothing with you? It is much more than any could bear. I refuse to believe these charges,” the duke resolved.
“In our hearts, none of us will,” Lady Wintercrest said, reaching across the table for her son. “But the fact of the matter is, she knew it would not be well for you had she stayed and your engagement been announced.”
The duke’s eyes widened in shock that his mother knew about their secret engagement.
“Don’t be silly, Christian,” Lady Abigail said, waving him off. “We all knew. You may have kept the words silent, but you couldn’t hide the way you two looked at each other.”
“Fine,” he said, understanding that everyone knew his secret, “then you know why I will be leaving for London right away to bring her back.”
“Christian,” Lady Wintercrest said softly. “Think this over. She didn’t want to leave any more than we wanted her too. Had she stayed, and you announced your engagement before the whole of the town, it would have had a devastating effect.”
“I couldn’t care a lick what the town thinks of me,” he spat back, enraged.
The duke pulled his hand out of his mother’s and sat back in his chair, rubbing his chin. He was still trying to process all of this. How could she have thought he would not stand by her?
“It was not just for your sake. Think of Abigail, even Jaqueline. This would affect them too.”
Lady Abigail opened her mouth to protest. She shut it promptly, however. Her mother was right. It would end any chance of Lady Abigail ever securing a marriage of her own. She sank in guilt with the realization that she was thankful that Isabella wouldn’t ruin her like that.
“The world isn’t always fair,” Lady Wintercrest said now, to both her children. “I cannot say that I fully believe this Mr. Smith over someone I have been in association with this past year. I wish her the best, that she might be successful in clearing her name. But she has done what she can to protect those she loves and we must respect that decision.”
The duke would not look his mother in the eyes. He merely shook his head, refusing to believe that he could let her do such a thing. She had no one and no means to help herself, save the lawyer. Would he still help her now that she was without the means to pay?
Lady Wintercrest slid the small parchment addressed to each of them respectfully. Lady Abigail took it and left the room without a word spoken. Christian looked down at his letter. Even in its folded and sealed state, he could see the damage of tears.
“I will give you some privacy,” Lady Wintercrest said, standing. “I suspect Jackie will need some comfort of her own, which I will see to.”
The duke waited till the room was fully cleared and the doors shut before he allowed himself to pick up the parchment. He hoped that if he didn’t read it, Isabella would magically appear before him and say it was all a cruel joke.
My Dearest Christian,
It is with the deepest sorrow of my heart that I am forcing myself to write to you. I know you must be outraged right now. Please know this is not Lady Wintercrest’s
fault.
It is better she told me of the accusations against me before it was too late for you, and for the rest of your family.
I am so sorry for the hurt and shame I have brought into your home. I wish I could say that I should have never come to Wintercrest at all. I am too selfish, however.
I will never regret the time I spent with your household, and most especially you, Christian. I only regret that your association to me may have already tainted prospects for yourself or your sister.
I will always hold you dear in my heart, but I must beg you not to do the same. Let this be but a passing moment for you. Find happiness.
With all my love,
Isabella
The duke held the note in his hand and read it again. He would have liked to crumple it into a ball. If he could have had his way, he would have charged out at that very moment on his fastest horse and not stopped till he found her.
He cared not what others would say. In fact, had she come to him, he would have married her on the spot, providing her the protection she so desperately needed.
He understood that it was for Abigail’s sake that she left. He loved his sister dearly and would never want his actions to result in her detriment. But it mattered not.
He loved Isabella and he would not let her stand alone before the wolves to be devoured. Perhaps he could find a way to aid Isabella in clearing her name. Then, with that settled, he would go to her. He would not care a wit for gossip after the fact.
Once things were set right and Mr. Smith made to pay for his actions, the duke would find her. He would give her the family and the protection she deserved.
He got up out of his chair. Only the sound of his tall leather boots could be heard as he paced the breakfast room floor. He would write to her solicitor first. He would pay for the cost, no amount would be too much, to see that she was properly represented.
It would also give him a chance to keep in touch with someone connected to Isabella. The duke refused the idea to cut all ties with her. He had given Isabella his word that he would love, support, and protect her all the days of their lives.
It didn’t matter if it wasn’t official. It certainly didn’t matter that she had released him from such commitment. He would stick by Isabella however he could as long as he lived.
After writing first to the solicitor, to insist all billing pertaining to her case be brought to him, the duke wrote next to the Earl and Countess of Gilcrest.
The duke knew it would take at least three days for his letter to reach the recipients. Isabella having at least a half a day head on them. He prayed that, even without his recommendations and encouragements, the Earl of Gilcrest would take Isabella in.
The duke left his office upon completion of the letters and intended to see his niece. Instead of going to the nursery, though, where he could hear the voices of Mrs. Murray, Jackie, and his mother, he walked on to what was once Isabella’s living space.
He was surprised to see the door partially open. He pushed it open the rest of the way to see the very same tearful maid collecting items from the shelves.
“What are you doing?” he asked startling the girl.
“Beg yer pardon, your grace. Mrs. Peterson told me to come and clean out the room.”
The duke looked around him. It seemed that Isabella took scarcely more than the clothes on her back.
He thought again how absolutely ridiculous it was to claim her a thief, this poor lady who had every last item stripped from her, save a few articles of clothing and books. Then, those too, she had to leave behind.
“Leave it all,” the duke said softly. “If Mrs. Peterson gives you trouble, you tell her it is my wish that this room stay intact for now.”
Betsy curtsied, eyes still swollen from her crying. She stopped before she left the room and turned back to the duke.
“I dinna mean to be impertinent, Your Grace, but will you help her? She told me how awful that man was to her. She never said as much, but I suspected he continued to harass her even here.”
“What makes you think that?” the duke asked.
She had never spoken to him of such harassment. He hoped that she wouldn’t have felt the need to keep it from him.
“As I said, I dinna ken for sure. It was only, around the time Your Grace’s father passed she started to get these letters. So many of them, sometimes three a week. They never said who they were from. Isabella always got so sullen when they came.”
“Thank you, Betsy,” the duke said, excusing the maid.
He scanned the room. If there were such letters, the duke could use them to prove that Mr. Smith’s character, and in turn his claim, was fraudulent.
He got up and did a quick search of the writing desk. There was nothing to be found. He suspected if such letters were written, Isabella wouldn’t keep them. His only hope would be that a new letter came in the next few days, before it was known that Isabella had left for London.
Without hesitation he rushed downstairs to the servants’ quarters. He went first to where the mail was kept and shuffled through the post. He was disappointed to find no letters to Isabella.
“Your Grace,” a solemn voice came from behind. “Can I help you find something?”
The duke turned and bore down on Mrs. Peterson. “You are not to touch a thing in Miss Watts’ room, is that clear?”
“Of course, Your Grace. I assumed since she had left that we needed to clear the space for a new governess.”
“There are no plans for a new governess at this time,” the duke said with finality. “Also, any post addressed to Miss Watts must go directly to me. Is that clear?”
The Duke of Wintercrest stood to his full height and used the commanding voice he so often heard given by lords to their servants. He had never expected himself to do so but at that moment, his hurt and anger were leading his words.
“Yes, of course, Your Grace,” Mrs. Peterson said with a humbled curtsy.
The duke returned upstairs and to his office. He had no taste for his work that day. In fact, the only thing that seemed to solely occupy his mind was the quickening of the passage of time so that Isabella could be returned safely to him.
Chapter 36
Isabella found her second carriage ride through the country and back to London vastly longer and more sorrowful than its counterpart one year earlier.
Even entering the city she had so loved and remembered fondly had no joy for her. She exited the stagecoach and went directly to find a cab that might take her to the Earl of Gilcrest’s London house.
It didn’t take long for Isabella to seek out the yellow two-person cab and give the driver directions.
She only hoped that her friend and correspondent would be happy to see her. Or, at least allow her shelter for the night. Isabella was fully aware how fast news traveled in London and she was sure that by now, the details of her suspected theft were the topic of most ladies’ gatherings.
Isabella did her best to calm her nerves as she stood on the steps to the Gilcrest city abode. She luckily knew that Lady Louisa would be here. In correspondence a few weeks early Lady Louisa had informed her that they would be leaving their country seat for the season and return to London, much to her excitement.
Summoning all her courage, Isabella knocked softly on the door. She did her best to straighten the traveling skirts she had sat on for the last three days.
A butler opened the door to her, “Are you expected Madam?”
“I am afraid I am not. I am Miss Isabella Watts. If you could tell Lady Louisa that I have come to call on her, I am certain she will receive me.”
“As you wish,” the butler said, showing Isabella into the front room to wait.
Isabella waited no more than two minutes in the small foyer that she knew so well before she heard the hurried steps of slippered feet.
“Oh, Isabella,” Lady Louisa said, coming into the room and taking her friend into a hug. “I have been so worried about you.”
“You
have? You aren’t surprised by my being here?” Isabella said, confused.
“No, no. Not at all.” Lady Louisa took her friend's hand and brought her into the small drawing room where her mother was waiting.
Lady Gilcrest rose at the sight of Isabella and embraced her as well.
“Oh, my dear, we have all been so worried about you. I’m so glad you came to us.”
“How did you possibly know of my coming?” Isabella asked.
She was indeed grateful that the household had taken her in so welcomingly. In fact, the whole carriage ride, she had replayed scenario after scenario of them turning her out right there on the front steps.
"Lady Abigail Grant sent a letter the morning after you left,” Lady Louisa said, by way of explanation. “She sent her own man on horseback. He rode day and night, barely stopping, and arrived here yesterday morning.”
“Come, sit and have some tea,” Lady Gilcrest added to her daughter's words.
“That was very kind of Lady Abigail,” Isabella said, taking a seat. “She didn’t have to go through all that trouble.”
“Well, I believe she was a bit worried that you may be returning to London much like Daniel going into the lions’ den,” Lady Louisa replied.
“I must admit,” Isabella said shyly, “I was a little worried that you wouldn’t receive me.”
“That is a ridiculous notion,” Lady Gilcrest said. “We, of course, heard the rumors and I made a point to speak up against them at every occasion.”
“Yes, this Mr. Smith is a most vile man,” Lady Louisa concurred. “To think he would go to such lengths to tarnish your reputation.”
“I have considered this fact for much of the last three days of travel,” Isabella said, feeling comfortable now in the security of friends.
“Well, dear, you just start from the beginning and we will figure this out, as we always do,” Lady Louisa said, patting her friends hand.
A half-hour later, Isabella had told her friend and Lady Gilcrest the whole situation. She started with the necklace in her hem, all the way through retelling all that Lady Cunningham had written to the duchess.
