by Carla René
However, when the time came to decide whether to sell Capriolé, she had not come to any sort of closure with John’s passing, felt that she was not emotionally ready to govern a new dwelling, and negated the notion. Now that Isabella was home, it would be easier to fare, but only for a time. Eventually, she would have to share her deep, crimson secret with her daughter. She only prayed that their relationship was strong enough to handle it: this was her steadfast hope, as she was not about to lose both of the only people she ever loved to the same prevarication.
She sat back to regard the ledger, and did not hear Isabella slip in behind her.
“Good morning,” she said to Lilly, expecting to surprise her.
Lilly was taken so off-guard and so eager to hide the ledger, that in her haste, she dropped it onto her feet and let out a scream.
“Mother, perhaps you should take to your couch; it seems as if you are unwell,” said Izzy, as she bent over to reach for the ledger.
Lilly saw the movement and quickly intercepted; then just as fleetly inserted the tattered ledger into the middle drawer of her desk.
“Oh Isabella, you do have an imagination. I am not like those society matrons who cannot be happy unless they cannot breathe through all of their corsets. You just startled me, that is all,” and Lilly sat back to take a deep breath.
“Well, as long as you say you are fine, then I will believe you. How did you sleep?”
The lie came easily. “Just fine dear,” then she quickly added, “It was nice having you back across the hallway. And you?”
“I cannot remember a time when I have slept more sound. We did not have the luxury of fireplaces in the residence hall, so the embers were very comforting.”
Lilly leaned up from her armchair to give Isabella a good morning kiss. “Are you hungry?”
“Ravenous.”
“Dear, you know I do not like slang,” Lilly said.
Izzy looked annoyed. “Oh Mother, I am hungry, please do not be so bothersome.”
Lilly just sighed, knowing full well that to engage Isabella this early on an empty stomach would do no one any good.
Just then a bell rang from downstairs, signaling that the morning meal was waiting for them.
“Come, shall I escort my favorite mother to breakfast?” said Izzy, as they walked arm-in-arm downstairs to the waiting morning meal.
When they entered the breakfast room, it revealed Mrs. Reddy admiring the table she had just dressed and she was pleased. Upon one smell of the delectables, Isabella’s stomach let out an audible growl.
Gracing the table top were cinnamon scones with spice-butter, poached eggs, more of the sausage from last evening’s repast, and ice-cold milk. Modest by the usual Audley household standards, yet quaint enough to reacquaint oneself with one’s own daughter.
“Goo’ morning misses, please have seat,” said a smiling Sharmi, as she removed the coffee pot from the wooden cook stove. She loved serving the Audleys and could not imagine ever working any place else.
Izzy could not contain her gratitude and immediately ran over to Sharmi and threw her arms around the Indian woman’s neck, followed by huge kisses.
“You know how I have missed your cooking Sharmi? The residence hall food was simply horrible, and I would die if I had to eat another bite.”
Lilly frowned from across the room, but said nothing. Lilly reminded herself that in spite of all of the unpleasantness that she found herself in as of late, there was nothing like the feeling of having her only daughter return in good health. She kept her secret firmly hidden for now, but assured herself that soon, Isabella would be thanking the good Lord above for every bite that she had.
“I glad you like and dat you are home safe. You father would be proud of you,” Sharmi said.
The soft-spoken words caught both women off-guard. The look on Sharmi’s face suddenly revealed the belief that she had overstepped her boundaries, and just as she began to apologize, Izzy, who was always given to capriciousness, broke in.
“You were reading my thoughts Sharmi. At times I wonder, but I am very glad you said something. Thank-you,” and the conversation was dropped for the time.
Lilly noticed how Isabella had tactfully handled the situation and smiled to herself. She had always been a breath of fresh air no matter the mood, and it was this whimsy and unpredictability about her that she missed, while at other times wishing to pull out every hair in her head. As she dwelled on this, she felt her spirit lighten considerably, and suddenly, the impending day did not seem as laden with burden as she had originally imagined. So she joined her daughter at the smallish, round table that saw many years of solving the world’s problems.
Both women enjoyed their breakfasts, eating in complete silence for what seemed a lifespan, and while Sharmi never hung discourteously over their shoulders watching, she always managed a peek from the hallway, just to enjoy their reactions. Isabella was voraciously engaged in a comical affair with a sausage and would not have noticed had the house suddenly disappeared around her. Lilly, who had been watching the scene, saw it the perfect time to broach a topic of a more festive theme.
“Thomas is anxious to call on you tomorrow evening. I told him you would be delighted.”
If spit-takes had been an invention of this time, Izzy would have been the inventor. The milk bespattered everywhere, and caused a screech from her that not many had been privy to. Lilly however, was accustomed to it and rather enjoyed the reaction, but remained silent to await the inevitable. As well, Mr. Puss seemed to enjoy it as he wasted no time in lapping up the droplets that covered the floor.
Lilly was just the sort of gracious lady who did not allow herself to become rattled by much that her gregarious daughter could throw at her. This was one of those times, and she continued to sip her coffee without incident.
“Mother! Are you completely daft? I cannot nor will I see Thomas tomorrow night, or any evening. I will not, I will not, I will not!!” and the scream landed Mr. Puss right at her side, fearing for any harm that may have befallen his mistress.
As Izzy suddenly removed herself from her meal and began pacing, without purpose around the table, Lilly continued to appear the matron of order, gently sipping the tea and silently laughing to herself over the ordeal. Still she said nothing.
“How could you? I mean it, how could you? Oh I am finished. I am ruined. Wait until Rachel hears this. My life as I now know it, is ended. Do you hear me? ENDED! Oh mother, I am swooning. I am weak; please help. Oh dear, I am fainting.”
Still, Lilly did not look from over the brim of the stone mug, except to grab a small piece of leftover scone and ceremoniously place it into her mouth.
“And it is all your fault. See? See me fainting. This is it. I can see the room darkening. It will be any moment now. Please push over that chair for me so I will not hit my face when I slump to the floor.”
But she could see Lilly from the corner of her right eye, and once she saw that her mother would not give in to her histrionics, she slowly moved back to her chair and sat down again, letting out a large, dejected sigh of surrender.
She moaned, “Mother, but why? You know I love you dearly and I would never deliberately disobey you, but why did you have to tell him I would be happy to see him? You know I have not spoken to him since the day of Hattie Mason’s ball before I turned sixteen. Do you not remember? He stood me up and never gave me an explanation as to why. Mother, I was beyond humiliation, and pledged then and there to never converse with him again, no matter the circumstances.”
Quietly, and with as much understanding as a mother could, she said, “Yes sweetheart, I fully remember. I remember how much you doted on him, and how your pulse quickened when you knew he would be near you. I also remember how you used to fight like animals as mere innocents, and how I discerned even then, that you both would always be in each other’s company.” Then quickly she added, “And yes, I also remember that one particular incident was only the proverbial straw in a whole line of
atrocious behavior Yes, I remember well.”
“Mother,” she said with full respect, “I know you think this befitting behavior, but I must say that I thought you understood when I explained how I felt about all of it.”
“I did. And I still do.” She leaned in closer to Izzy and continued in a softer voice. “Darling, he is a man now, completely mature, and oh dear daughter, he is so comely. Truly, you will not recognize him.”
“And do you know why? Because I am not seeing him,” and with that she popped a scone into her mouth, got up, and resumed her pacing again.
Lilly marveled at how this beautiful young woman, this strong, fiery creature could, at the most inopportune times, appear such an insecure, weak child. Catching her daughter’s fair hand on the way by, she turned Isabella to face her, and gently said, “Muffin, if you will not allow a man to grow up into his own being, and be willing to pardon him his misdeeds, you will always remain single.”
Izzy’s expression softened, as she knew it was a mother’s eternal mission to marry off her daughter.
But Lilly saw that there was much more work to do.
“Do you know he finished college? He returned last week. Dearest, I am sure he is changed, since the very first thing he did once he arrived in town was to inquire of you and your family. I almost did not recognize him. He carried himself so forceful and confident. Nothing that resembled the clumsy, unsure child that I saw in him last. You do him a great disservice if you refuse to allow him to call.”
From Isabella’s countenance, Lilly could finally see a glimmer of that old child-like curiosity that kept her alive, and so gave her finale to seal it.
“Listen. Let him call upon you. I will serve as chaperone if you wish. If, after speaking to him in the safety of the drawing room you find that your wounds of the past are too great to heal, then I will send him away and you will never have to worry about seeing him again. Does this sound fair enough to you?” She awaited the answer that she knew would come.
“Mother, I must tell you again, that while your erstwhile match-making is as transparent as my stockings from last season, and just as adorable in you, I do not need to be some important man’s wife. I adore my life as it is, and am quite happy with it. I am sure that you, and every member of your garden club have been extremely busy in match-making, now that the universities have adjourned for Christmas. Dear me, you must already have every eligible, fourteen-year-old girl in this city married off and choosing grandchildren’s names.”
Lilly curbed her temporary anger at the comment, but did not allow Isabella to see it. She had no idea how very important it was that she find a suitable husband, now more than ever. But again, this was not the time.
As Izzy made the comment, her careful thoughts were suddenly derailed as she remembered the horrible mysterious peacock lady who stopped her in the millinery. While she did not wish to table this discussion of seeing Thomas tomorrow night, now was the perfect time to ask Mother what she may know about the mystifying woman.
“Mother, that reminds me. Yesterday on my walk from town, I happened by the millinery to merely look at a hat I had seen in the window, when the most strange lady I had ever met stopped me in the shop to say hello. She said that she was a friend of yours from the garden club, a Mrs. Arthur Tinsdale. Do you know her?”
Lilly’s expression brightened as she remembered her cherished friend, yet took a long, thoughtful moment to consider her words carefully, for she knew that the manner in which she answered the question would be important to the dynamic of the rest of the afternoon, day, week, and Isabella’s eventual stay. After careful consideration, she concluded that perhaps another lie would only serve to exacerbate the situation, so opted instead for part of the truth.
“Know her? Why we have been practically joined at the bustle since we literally bumped into each other at church one morning.” She giggled at this and was surprised when Isabella did not respond in kind. “Am I the only one to see the irony in that?”
“Yes, I am afraid you are, mother. The woman was very unflattering in her manner, and I felt it rather rude of her to simply waylay me in public in such a fashion. Besides, her news that she let slip was not of a festive nature, and I wish to question you on it now.”
For a moment, Lilly noticed the room had grown quite dim. But a quick breath rectified that before her daughter could suspect. It was also very inopportune at times that Isabella would be so sensitive a girl. She always had felt things on a much deeper level than those around her, and while those are perfect qualities to have for a devotee of the stage, they did nothing but complicate matters in some cases of personal natures. This was one of them.
“Yes? Go on. What did she say?”
“Well, she was also telling me the story of how you met in church, when she said the most curious thing. She said that you had been a member of the garden club, in the past tense. I was so flustered that I rushed out into the open air so I would not faint, and to press her for further details but she left abruptly with her husband. I knew that it must have been a grave mistake, or perhaps a case of mistaken identity. I tried not to put too much weight on it, since not everyone has a mastery of the language such as I,” and this she said in her best playful tone, but could not help but allow her serious fear to show through. “But now that you have just verified the facts of your meeting, I do know that she is an acquaintance and not a case of mistaken identity. Mother, to be honest, it disturbed me the rest of the way home, but by the time I arrived, I had long forgotten it, since I was so tired, cold, and happy to see you. However, now the lump in my stomach has returned, and I wish for your consolation and clarification on this matter. Has there been occurrences transpire to cause you to no longer be a member of the garden club? I cannot fathom it, since you absolutely love that club.”
Again, choosing her words carefully and taking a deep breath before beginning, she said, “Sweetheart, please do not concern yourself with what Mrs. Tinsdale might have said. I am sure the most reasonable explanation for it all was a mere slip of the tongue. You have now seen how large a woman she is; perhaps in a swollen state her tongue was unable to function properly, leaving you with the impression that her words referred to me in the past tense.”
“No mother, I am positive that was not the case, since later in the conversation, she asked me if perhaps she had let something slip that I was not supposed to have known. Is it true mother? Has something happened?” Izzy began to lose control of her senses and could barely contain her exasperation. She would never consider herself to be a shallow individual, but she did love the familiarity of the atmosphere of Society with which she had been raised. She had never taken them for granted, for with them came certain privileges that she had always embraced. In fact, with father now gone, the thoughts of possibly losing her place in society were simply more than she could bear, for she did not wish to grieve over that aspect of her lost life as well. But rather than make a hasty judgment about her entire life based on one mere, insipid comment from someone who obviously dressed with as much taste as a vaudevillian clown, she waited patiently for mother’s answer.
Lilly realized that it was now or never, and had to take another long deep breath to determine what to do. She quickly decided, that the best way to deal with this, was not at the breakfast table with dirty dishes cluttering the sink and too much to catch up on. It must be at a time when nothing else would interfere or jar her thoughts, and she could have complete and total concentration. She wanted the meeting with Thomas tomorrow night to go flawlessly, and she knew that if Isabella were fretting over the information she was asking her to share, she would never enjoy herself. Yes, that is what she would do. She would allow Isabella one more night of blissfully happy memories and surroundings of her own doing before unleashing the entire hideous truth.
“Sweetheart,” she began as she cleared her throat to make way for the lie. “Listen to me. There is nothing mysterious or cryptic about anything Mrs. Tinsdale has said to you. I
simply forgot to mention to you in one of my letters, that I had temporarily dropped from the club for a time. It was nothing really. I just felt that with your father gone and you away at school, I was spending far too much time away from the house and not enough time paying attention to the things that really mattered. So I began taking extra shifts at the children’s wing of the hospital. It is nothing really, just a few hours a week, and that is probably why I failed to mention it. That is all.”
Isabella hung her head, letting out a large sigh of relief and said, “Oh Mother, I am so sorry I allowed my fear to get the better of me. Thank you for your explanation. Yes, it makes perfect sense, and now everything the peacock lady said also fits into place. I am so relieved to hear that nothing is wrong.” With loving eyes, she continued. “Mother, you would tell me if something were amiss would you not? I can still trust you can’t I?”
Isabella’s pleading eyes were enough to cut through to Lilly’s very soul. A lump gathered in her throat, but she choked it back enough to say, “Isabella Audley, you simply worry too much. A girl of your age should not be fretting over such matters. You should be courting, chatting over beaus with best girlfriends and such. It is Christmas, your favorite time of year, so why do we not simply put this fuss away and concentrate on something festive?”
