Isabelle and Alexander

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Isabelle and Alexander Page 26

by Rebecca Anderson


  “In my dream, you are beside me as I wake.” She stretched one leg on the footstool. “You seem, if I may be so bold, to rather fancy me.”

  Alexander breathed a laugh. “Oh, indeed. This does sound like a dream.”

  Isabelle closed her eyes again. “I believe I shall continue to sleep so I can hold this dream awhile longer,” she murmured.

  “My dear Isabelle,” Alexander said, tracing his finger along her hairline, soft as a whisper, “if you so desire, I shall be at your side every time you wake. I shall prove to you beyond any doubt that you are more precious to me than anyone or anything. I shall strengthen my arms to hold you close. You shall never need wonder nor worry. I shall do all I can to make your every waking moment better than a dream.”

  Isabelle sighed and reached for him. With bandaged arms, she pulled his hands to her heart. “Can it be true? I do so hope I am truly awake.” She sat up further and faced Alexander. “I don’t mean to doubt you, but I am afraid. It is difficult for me to believe.”

  “How can I prove to you that it is all true?” he asked, his voice filled with hope and longing. “You have suffered, worked, and cared for me, and all the while I was the most difficult patient.”

  She stroked the side of his face with her cloth-bound hand. “I only hoped to win your love.”

  “And I hoped nothing more than that I could grow to deserve you,” he whispered.

  “Just as you are,” she said, eyes shining with love and with an emerging confidence. “Just exactly as you are.”

  Isabelle rose and stood in front of his chair. “May I?” she asked as she climbed into his lap.

  Curled up in his arms, she felt him enfold her. “How it is possible that you fit so perfectly?” Alexander whispered into her hair.

  She nuzzled her face into his neck, absorbing his increasing strength. “I believe perhaps we have always fit together so well. We simply needed some time to discover the truth,” she said.

  He placed a gentle hand beneath her chin and tilted her head toward his. “Isabelle,” he breathed, “my dearest Isabelle. How can I say it? You have saved my life, my work, and my heart. I will spend every remaining day proving my love to you.”

  She turned her head to meet his eye. “Mr. Osgood, did you say love?”

  “Oh, Isabelle,” he said. “I love you more than I would have ever thought possible.”

  “And I love you, Alec.”

  Before she could finish speaking his name, his lips touched her own in a tender and tentative kiss. As she rose to meet him in response, he clasped her more closely. As the sky outside lightened and the sun rose, they took no notice at all, so absorbed were they in discovering each other.

  It was high summer, and Isabelle and Alexander had only just returned from a week’s stay at Wellsgate. Upon freshening up in their bedroom, which once had been the parlor, Isabelle heard a knock at the door.

  “Pardon me, ma’am, but Glory Kenworthy and her mother are here to see you both. Mr. Osgood is already sitting with them in the drawing room.”

  Isabelle nodded her thanks and checked her reflection in the mirror on the wall. Over the past few months, all her injuries had healed, save one. The back of her right hand, badly burned from the mill fire, had a patch of puckered skin. Isabelle did not mind the blemish, mainly because Alexander called it her badge of honor, and he placed a tender and grateful kiss upon it each morning and night.

  As she stepped across the entry hall and into the drawing room, Isabelle heard the discordant sound of several atonal musical notes being played together and Glory and Alexander laughing.

  “Perhaps not yet,” Glory said, “but I believe Mrs. Osgood could teach you.”

  “What could I teach you, Alec?” Isabelle asked, catching a glimpse of the relaxed and playful husband she was coming to know and adore.

  “To play the pianoforte,” he said, grasping the wheels of his chair and backing away from the instrument. He moved his chair beside the one Isabelle sat in. “It will not be the most challenging thing you have attempted,” he added, giving her a wink.

  She reached for his hand, always preferring to be touching him when they were in the same room. Which was, undoubtedly, most of the time.

  Isabelle glanced at the small wooden box set with care and joy in the center of the drawing room’s central table—a place where she could see it every day, beside a bowl of perfectly ripe pears. Only after her recovery did she fully realize the gift Alexander had given her at Christmas. Beneath the gift of new writing paper, he had placed ever so many undelivered notes he had written to her, at first with his own hand, and then, when his hands no longer allowed, in the writing of Yeardley or Mrs. Burns. Every message, penned over months, a testament to his growing love for his wife.

  Glory reached for a paper-wrapped package beside her.

  “For you,” she said, obviously eager for Isabelle to open it.

  Isabelle clapped her hands. “Is it our painting?” she asked, pulling the paper away.

  Glory nodded. “Even if it does not look exactly as you look, it looks like you feel.”

  Isabelle pulled the painting upright and held it in front of her and Alexander. It was the two of them, Isabelle smiling forward, and Alexander staring at her from the side, a look of happy surprise on his face.

  Glory explained. “The last time I came to paint you, this is how he looked at you when you were singing. And now it is how he looks at you always.”

  Isabelle stood and crossed the drawing room to take Glory in her arms. “Thank you. It is lovely. Almost perfect.”

  Glory looked surprised. “Almost?” she asked.

  Isabelle nodded. “I fear that soon I will need to trouble you to make another. Our family, you see,” she said, “is growing.”

  Glory clasped her hands at her heart. “Are you finally getting a puppy?” she asked, all joy and excitement.

  Isabelle’s hands went to her stomach, where a small bulge reminded her every day that there was ever something more wonderful to look forward to.

  “Even better,” she said.

  I offer my sincere thanks to all whose hearts hold a love for stories of the past, both real and imagined. There are endless tales to be told.

  Thanks to the tireless team at Shadow Mountain, who make publishing look easy: Lisa Mangum, Heidi Taylor Gordon, and Chris Schoebinger, the editorial Dream Team; Troy Butcher and Callie Hansen in sales and marketing (that’s a whole lot like professional party planning); Richard Erickson and Heather Ward in design; and Rachael Ward for the lovely typography. And a special thanks to Carly Springer for a careful proofreading eye.

  Writing can be a lonely, solitary experience, but it doesn’t have to be. I’m so grateful to be a member of several writerly communities through which I have learned to tighten my prose, balance what matters, and see new possibilities. Thanks to all the writer friends who pull together when it matters, especially my Proper Romance sisters and my Barbie girls. Special gratitude to Jenny Proctor, who promises to love almost everything I write and helps me polish up the rest of it. And Stephanie Sorensen, who took a fortunate trip to northern England and sent back photos and videos of Victorian-era mills. Next time, I’ll join you.

  What a joy to be able to be a high school teacher in a community of amazing colleagues. We’re constantly surrounded by the best, brightest, and most delightful young adults in the world. Their readiness to make the world better inspires me daily.

  I have an amazing family. The deep goodness of my husband and kids is a great comfort, and I am occasionally startled by new realizations of my good fortune. Thanks for being my people.

  And thank you, readers, for sharing your hours. You give our characters a reason to live.

  1.Isabelle and Alexander is not a typical romance. In what ways does their marriage still allow for the important question, “Will they fall in l
ove?”

  2.The Victorian era was a time of great reform in society, in industry, and in interpersonal relationships. How is Isabelle helped into a sense of independence within the confines and opportunities of this changing time period?

  3.Alexander’s natural reticence is compounded by a feeling of being socially “beneath” Isabelle’s family. How does a perceived difference in social stature affect a relationship?

  4.Isabelle and her cousin Edwin have a close family friendship. Do you have a special friend in your family?

  5.Industry in 1850 changed much of the landscape of some of England’s northern cities, Manchester in particular. Isabelle moves from the country to the city and finds herself initially repulsed by the huge buildings belching coal smoke. Would you have preferred the country to the city? What are the benefits of each?

  6.Glory Kenworthy is a young woman of both talent and disability in a time in which families were generally expected to send people with physical or mental disabilities away to institutions or asylums. What kinds of contributions have you witnessed from people of differing abilities?

  7.Isabelle waits (perhaps too long) to make her mark on Alexander’s home. How do you determine what makes your space your own?

  8.Alexander’s injury changes everything about his life, or so he believes. How would an accident like this affect your life? The life of someone you care about?

  9.Both Alexander and Isabelle depend on the well-meaning nudges of Mrs. Burns and Doctor Kelley to give them confidence to fall in love. Do you have people in your life who lend you bravery to do the things that will be best for you?

  Photo by Scott Wilhite

  By night, Rebecca Anderson writes historical romances. By day, she sets aside her pseudonym and resumes her life as Becca Wilhite: teacher, happy wife, and a mom to four above-average kids. She loves hiking, Broadway shows, food, books, and movies.

  You can find her online at beccawilhite.com.

  Fall in Love with a

  Proper Romance

  Nancy Campbell Allen

  My Fair Gentleman

  The Secret of the India Orchid

  Beauty and the Clockwork Beast

  Kiss of the Spindle

  The Lady in the Coppergate Tower

  Brass Carriages and Glass Hearts

  Julianne Donaldson

  Edenbrooke

  Blackmoore

  Sarah M. Eden

  Longing for Home

  Hope Springs

  The Sheriffs of Savage Wells

  Healing Hearts

  Ashes on the Moor

  The Lady and the Highwayman

  The Gentleman and the Thief

  Leah Garriott

  Promised

  Arlem Hawks

  Georgana’s Secret

  Krista Jensen

  Miracle Creek Christmas

  Josi S. Kilpack

  A Heart Revealed

  Lord Fenton’s Folly

  Forever and Forever

  A Lady’s Favor (eBook)

  The Lady of the Lakes

  The Vicar’s Daughter

  Miss Wilton’s Waltz

  All That Makes Life Bright

  Mayfield Family Series

  Promises and Primroses

  Daisies and Devotion

  Rakes and Roses

  Ilima Todd

  A Song for the Stars

  Megan Walker

  Lakeshire Park

  Becca Wilhite

  Check Me Out

  Julie Wright

  Lies Jane Austen Told Me

  Lies, Love, and Breakfast at Tiffany’s

  Glass Slippers, Ever After, and Me

  A Captain for Caroline Gray

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Discussion Questions

  About the Author

  Landmarks

  Cover

 

 

 


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