Whispers of Light
Page 11
“There is,” Laurence replied. He picked up his book once again and opened it the page he had been reading earlier, hoping Harriet would take it as a signal that he wished to be alone.
However, his ever-selfish sister ignored the gesture. “Have you arranged for her to buy new dresses yet? Or jewelry?” Laurence glanced up from his book but did not speak. “I can see by your look you have not considered it.”
“I have not. If she wishes to buy a new dress or jewelry, I do not care. But she has not made any mention of it.”
Harriet stood and walked over to the liquor cart. “Laurence?” she asked as she poured herself a healthy measure of sherry. “Do you remember our mother?”
Laurence heaved a heavy sigh and closed his book “Of course I do. What about her?”
“Do you recall her wearing dresses of the finest fabrics?”
He nodded. What point was she trying to make?
“How about her fingers or her neck? Were they bare?”
“No,” he replied, not hiding his impatience. He did remember that their father never spared the smallest expense when it came to their mother, but what did that have to do with Isabel? “What does all this mean?” he demanded.
She handed him a new glass of brandy. “You are fortunate I am willing to take the time to look after you,” she said as she returned to her seat. “If you were left to your own devices, you would destroy our family name within six months of this wedding.”
“Speak plainly,” Laurence said, tired of her beating around the bush. “What is it you are wanting Isabel to do?”
His sister took her time to reply, swirling the sherry around in her glass before giving a dramatic sigh. “You cannot have Isabel as your wife and duchess walking around without jewelry and fine gowns. That is, unless you do not care for her as Father did for Mother.”
“I do want the best for my wife,” he argued. He thought again about how his father acted toward his mother. The truth of the matter was, his father allowed his mother free rein to buy anything she wanted. He sighed. “I will send Isabel to town tomorrow. There she can buy whatever she pleases.”
Harriet groaned. “You are such a fool,” she said. “Her father might have been a baron, but that does not mean that she had access to the kind of money a duchess has. How will she know which gowns to buy or the best jewelry to match? Then there are the hats, gloves…”
“All right,” Laurence interrupted. “However, you know I prefer not to go into town. Would you be willing to accompany her? That is, if she is willing to go shopping.”
After several moments of what appeared to be careful consideration, Harriet replied. “I did promise Margaret I would call on her again tomorrow, but Isabel is now my sister-in-law; I would like to see her succeed.” However, she still appeared to be contemplating her decision.
Laurence nodded. “Please,” he said, hoping he would sway her decision.
“Oh, do not beg,” Harriet replied. “You have done enough damage to our family already. It appears it will be up to me to save the day once again.” She downed the last of her sherry and placed the empty glass beside her empty wine glass on the table. “Then I am off to bed, for we will have an early day tomorrow.”
“I appreciate you offering to accompany Isabel,” Laurence said. “Being newly married cannot be easy for her.”
“By the way,” she said, stopping at the door, “my funds are low, and it will be difficult for a woman to help another and suffer the embarrassment of being unable to buy a dress for herself.”
“You may put it on my account,” Laurence said with a sigh.
“Thank you,” she said with a wide smile. “Perhaps there is hope for you yet. Goodnight, Laurence.”
When she was gone, he opened his book once more, but his mind kept returning to the words Harriet spoke. His sister could be, and had been, cruel on many occasions, more so since his parents died. Yet, although he wanted to rebuke her often, she had those moments when he appreciated her candor.
Then his thoughts turned to the times when she was not as helpful, and he knew her accusations were true. It was his fault his parents were dead, and he had his disfigured leg as a constant reminder of that fact. He had destroyed their family, and he hoped one day Harriet would forgive him. For now, however, he cared only for Isabel and what she thought, for if she was able to look past his sin, then perhaps, in that, he would find forgiveness.
Chapter Thirteen
Isabel had planned to spend her first full day at Camellia Estates walking its corridors and acclimating herself to her new home. She had already written letters, one each to her sisters, brother, and mother, and strolled through the garden, and planned to begin exploring after having a few bits of breakfast. However, Laurence met her at the bottom of the main staircase as she made her way to the dining room, a wide grin on his face.
“Good morning,” he said. He hesitated and then leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. “I hope you slept well.”
She had to stop herself from raising a hand to the place where he had kissed her, for her traitorous body found the intimate display pleasing. Luckily, her mind had more influence over her sensibilities.
“I did,” she said in response to his question. She looked past him and was surprised to see his sister leaning against the door jamb of the dining room tearing a piece from a buttered roll, a small smile playing on her lips. “Good morning, Lady Darlington.”
“Indeed, it is a good morning,” the woman replied before popping the tiny morsel into her mouth, that smile remaining. There was a smugness to it, and Isabel could not help but wonder what the woman was up to.
“You seem pleased this morning,” Isabel said as she walked past the siblings and into the dining room.
“I am,” Laurence replied. “Harriet made a suggestion yesterday, and I thought it a marvelous idea. Today, you and she shall go into town and visit as many shops as you please. If you find something you want, feel free to put it on my account. If I do not have an account at a particular shop, set one up in my name.”
“Shops? I need nothing.”
“Oh, my dear Isabel,” Lady Darlington cooed, “you do not care if I address you by your Christian name, do you? I mean, we are sisters now, are we not? I must admit I have always wanted a sister.” She shot Laurence a look of disdain. “Unfortunately, all I was burdened with was him.”
What Isabel wanted was for the woman to leave her alone, but it was clear that was not to be. As uncomfortable as it was to have the woman address her so intimately, perhaps it would ease the tension that clearly existed between them. Therefore, she gave a nod to her head.
“Wonderful,” the woman said dramatically. “And you will call me Harriet. Now, what my brother was trying to say was that, as a duchess, you must continue in the roll our mother played.”
“I have promised I would,” Isabel said, uncertain the point the woman was attempting to make. “Have I upset you in some way?” she asked Laurence.
“Not at all,” he replied quickly. “It is just that…”
“Allow me,” Harriet interrupted. “You are a man and can never understand the ways of women.” She turned to Isabel. “My mother was the duchess of all duchesses. Her beauty, her elegance, her style, were admired by all. Laurence only wishes to continue her legacy, and that can only be accomplished by assuring you have the best of everything.”
Isabel glanced at Laurence, who nodded emphatically. She did not wish to go into town, and certainly not with Harriet. However, if she did so, perhaps she would be given some time alone either in town or when they returned.
“An outing does sound pleasant,” Isabel lied. “Will you be joining us?”
Laurence shook his head, but his sister answered for him. “He is much too busy with work.” She walked over to Isabel and took her by the hand. “Come. We can leave now. I have already asked that the carriage be brought around.”
“But, I have yet to break my fast,” Isabel said in astonishment. This wo
man was by far the most intrusive woman she had ever met! “Nor am I properly dressed for an outing.”
Harriet clicked her tongue. “I imagine we will find a tea house or inn where we can sit and share in a pastry or some other food. And as for your dress, you may be right. However, we have so much to do today, we should be going as soon as possible, and therefore, it will have to do.” Soon she was dragging Isabel toward the front door.
“Please, enjoy yourself,” Laurence said as he followed behind. “And spare no expense. If you see anything that piques your fancy, have the proprietor send me the bill.”
Before she could refuse, her wrap was thrown around her shoulders and a hat placed upon her head, and Harriet was dragging her to the waiting carriage.
“Our first outing as a family,” Harriet said with a smile as the vehicle made its way down the long drive. “I must admit that I enjoy a day of shopping.” She tilted her head and furrowed her brow. “You seem distressed.”
Of course, she was distressed! She was practically trussed up and thrown into a carriage against her will with a woman who had threatened her the previous day. What did this woman expect?
“I realize we got off on a bad start,” Harriet said with a sigh as if hearing Isabel’s thoughts. “You must understand my position. My only brother, the heir to a great fortune, marries a woman he barely knows…”
“We have known each other since we were children,” Isabel argued, although she should have admitted that Harriet was correct in her assessment of the situation. However, something about this woman did not sit well with Isabel, and therefore, she refused to give the woman any advantage, for the truth was, she did not trust her.
“Those few times my parents called on yours?” Harriet asked with a sniff. Then she waved her hand. “But that is not of any importance now. I can see that my brother has an affection for you, and many marriages have been built on less. That is why I suggested this outing. We are now family, and it is my duty to see you welcomed with open arms. And to see that you are put on the right path to fill Mother’s shoes.” She said the last as if it was a great burden, and Isabel could not stop the feeling of unease it brought her.
Yet, she did not know the role of a duchess. As a baroness, her mother had her expectations, but a duchess was a much more important position in society. Perhaps Harriet was right; Isabel did lack knowledge in this area.
“I appreciate you taking the time to help me,” Isabel said finally.
Harriet smiled. “Think nothing of it,” she replied as if what she was doing was of no consequence. “I will be honest with you. Laurence asked me to be here to help you make the transition. I did not particularly wish to leave my home in Malmsbury, but if Laurence asks for my aid, as his sister, I suppose I should come.”
Isabel studied her new sister-in-law for a moment. If she—Isabel—had been summoned by one of her siblings for a particular task, would she not go running? Indeed, she would. Furthermore, if one of her sisters married a man of lesser means without a period of courting, she would be as suspicious of the man’s intention as Harriet was of Isabel’s. For the first time since meeting this woman, Isabel felt a connection with her.
“I appreciate your honesty,” she said with a smile that, for the first time since meeting Harriet, was genuine.
“I always try to be honest,” Harriet said with a small smile. “And we are family.” She took Isabel’s hand in hers. “We live and die together.”
Isabel could not stop the small shiver that ran down her spine, but she pushed aside the remaining reservations and returned the woman’s smile. Laurence wanted Isabel to be happy and had sent his sister to attempt to do just that. It was not his fault that Isabel could never be happy no matter how many dresses or hats she owned.
***
After a hectic day of shopping—Harriet had insisted they visit every dress shop, millinery, cobbler, and haberdasher the town had to offer—Isabel returned to Camellia Estates pleasantly exhausted. She had been poked and prodded, dressed and undressed, and run off her feet for hours.
They had visited three dressmakers before Harriet was satisfied with the selection of fabrics and quality of work, where two separate women took her measurements—Harriet insisted the first were incorrect—and they spent more than an hour scouring the plates of just one book of drawings. It was not long before Isabel became lightheaded—she had been dragged from the house before she was able to eat a bite, after all. Luckily, the proprietress sent one of her girls to a nearby bakery to have a selection of tarts brought in, and Isabel felt much better after eating one with apples accompanied by a cup of tea.
The dressmaker was followed by a visit to both jewelers, where Harriet insisted Isabel purchase two rings—one with a large diamond surrounded by sapphires and another with the largest ruby Isabel had ever seen—two gold necklaces, a variety of pendants, and a brooch in the shape of a butterfly, three emeralds for its body and spun gold for the wings.
As they entered the house, Harriet sighed as if she, too, shared Isabel’s fatigue. “I believe I will go upstairs and freshen up.” She turned to the butler—Weber, if Isabel remembered correctly—and shoved her hat into his hands and waved at the boxes a liveried servant set on a nearby table. “Have that brought to my room.”
“As you wish,” Weber said with a bow.
Isabel stared at the woman. The manner in which she treated this poor butler was despicable, and she offered the man a small smile, for which she received the smallest upturn of his lips in return. That was enough to tell Isabel that he appreciated her kindness. Then he was off to do Harriet’s bidding.
Laurence walked up to Isabel. “Tell me about your day,” he said with a wide grin before leaning in to kiss her cheek. Once again, that warmness ran through her, and she had to force it away in order to reply.
“It was an adventure,” she said with a laugh. Then she removed a package that contained several small boxes tied together with a ribbon. “Harriet insisted I get these, but I believe them to be too much.”
He opened one of the boxes, which contained most of the jewelry she had purchased. “They are beautiful,” he said when he had seen them all. “And your dresses? Were you able to find any you liked?”
“Yes, thank you,” Isabel replied. Her feet hurt, and all she wanted was a bit of time alone. “Would you mind if I take some time before dressing for dinner to rest in the garden?”
He chuckled. “Of course. It is your garden, as well. Might I bring you a glass of wine?”
“That would be nice,” she said with a smile.
Laurence nodded and walked away, and Isabel made her way to the drawing room, for it had a door that led to the gardens. The quiet of the place was a welcome relief after the hustle and bustle of the day. No, of the last two days. The thought of spending another moment with Harriet made her stomach churn, for the woman talked incessantly, typically laden with complaints.
What confused Isabel more was how the woman had accused her only yesterday of marrying Laurence for his money, and then today, she forced her to spend an exorbitant amount on things she did not need. And all the while, she pretended they were the best of friends.
“There we are,” Laurence said as he took a seat beside her on the bench she had chosen beside a lovely lilac, its fragrant scent calming. “That wine is one of my favorite vintages that I keep in stock.”
“Thank you,” Isabel said, and she took a sip to please him. “Very nice,” she said with honesty.
“I am glad you like it,” he replied.
They fell silent for several moments, that awkward silence two people who have just become acquainted endure.
“Did Harriet make any purchases?” he asked.
“She did,” Isabel replied, although she did not quantify her response, nor did she make mention of the many rings the woman had stored away in her pockets.
Laurence glanced over his shoulder toward the house. “I told her she could make purchases today.” Isabel was unsure i
f he was simply telling her this or if he was asking her permission. “Her funds are short at the moment. I thought it would be a kind gesture on my part.” He paused and took a drink of his wine.
Was he nervous somehow? And why did he deem it necessary to share with her the current financial situation of his sister?
“Did you enjoy her company?”
The last question was asked with concern, and Isabel knew she could not tell him the truth outright. “I must admit, Harriet is…sociable.” She could not think of a better word, and she certainly could not use exasperating, although it was much more accurate a term. “I admit that it has been a while since I have experienced such a day.”
Laurence let out a sigh. “Good. I have to admit that I was concerned.”
A question came to Isabel. “How long will she be staying with us?”
Laurence rubbed his chin. “I am not certain, but I believe only a few more days. You do not mind, do you? Did you want her to leave sooner?”
“Not at all,” Isabel lied. If having his sister nearby pleased him, she would do what she could to make the most of the woman’s visit. “It is just that I am missing her already. I want to cherish every moment I can with her.” Although the lie burned her tongue, it was worth the reaction she received.
“I am pleased,” he replied with a wide grin.
As they sat together on the bench, an easy silence fell around them. She did not mind being in his company. He was so unlike his sister—quiet where Harriet was boisterous, thoughtful where his sister would speak whatever was on her mind without deliberation, and selfless where Harriet thought only of herself.
Laurence placed his hands on his knees. “I must go dress; dinner will be ready soon. Braised lamb with a complementary wine sauce.”
“That sounds nice,” Isabel replied as she stood. “I believe that sounds nice enough to send me rushing to dress for dinner.”
He offered her his elbow, and she threaded her arm through his. They walked into the house without speaking, as if there was no need for words.