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Dating Two Dragons

Page 21

by Sky Winters


  “There are several inns outside of town, if he has a carria…”

  “He does have a carriage!” Kitty interrupted, “It is a fine black carriage drawn by black horses. The whole thing is sealed up like a fortress.” Kitty always seemed more alive when she had gossip, Isabelle loved to see the sparkle in her friend’s eyes as she delivered, what Isabelle called, ‘the daily reports.’

  “Many carriages are black,” Isabelle failed to see the point of Kitty’s observation.

  “It has no windows,” Kitty had a devilish look in her eyes. “That man has something to hide.”

  “You would speak so ill of your cousin?” Isabelle sat up and faced Kitty.

  “Yes,” Kitty smiled. “And so would you, if you weren’t in love with him.” Kitty started to make kissy noises at her friend. Isabelle hit Kitty, who had her eyes closed and mouth puckered kissing the air, with a pillow. “I am sorry,” Kitty feigned an apology.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Isabelle confessed. “I fear that you are right. I have fallen madly in love with a man who would leave me lying in the woods.”

  “We don’t know that,” Kitty grabbed her friend’s hand. “What do you remember of what happened last night?”

  “I remember Edmund recounting his injury,” Isabelle was racking her brain. “I remember he asked me to dance.” Isabelle could see him standing before her as she thought about the night. Most of her memories of the night seemed very clear. Edmund had asked her to dance right after she had finished dancing with Victor Raglan, Kitty’s boorish, older brother.

  The waltz was over much too soon for Isabelle. Edmund continued to twirl Isabelle even after the band had stopped. They moved right off the floor. “Would you like to get some air Miss Bernard?” Edmund had offered his arm and they walked out of the ballroom and onto a large stone balcony overlooking the gardens.

  “He was taller than what you would think,” Edmund had told Isabelle when she asked of his time with Napoleon. “He was playing with fire.” Edmund was staring out over the gardens. “He tried to reorder our society, there was no way the noble families of Europe could let an up-jumped General change the status quo. Whether you are man, or beast.”

  It was the last part that struck Isabelle the hardest. What could he have meant? Napoleon was clearly a man and not a beast. It was clear that this was not the same care free boy who had left Caddington to pursue a military career. Isabelle could see in Edmund’s eyes that he had seen and done things that had changed him. He had grown up fast in the wars. She wanted to know more, but she did not want to pester him either.

  Isabelle’s grandfather had fought in the French and Indian wars. When 1st Baronet George Bernard came back from the New World he could not speak about his experiences. Isabelle had tried to talk to him about Indians and Americans, but it was no use. He would lock himself away. Isabelle wanted to help Edmund, but she didn’t want to see him push away from her. It was painful when it was her grandfather, a cold, distant man Isabelle barely knew, but Edmund had been a close friend.

  “Did you get a chance to talk to him at all?” Isabelle asked. She had considered dropping the subject for a more cheery one, but in the end her curiosity got the better of her.

  “We talked for hours after…” Edmund cut himself off, “I think the band is starting up again.” Isabelle held onto Edmund’s arm as he led her back into the house.

  “You didn’t ask?” Kitty said as Isabelle finished her story. “After what?” Kitty was beside herself with curiosity. “Do you remember anything else?”

  “The last thing was that we danced,” Isabelle started. “After the next dance I went to ask father if Edmund could escort me home.” Kitty was on the edge of her seat. “He was too drunk to even respond, so I kissed him on the cheek and we left.”

  “So romantic,” Kitty said. Isabelle was not sure that she agreed, but she loved to see her friend’s reaction to the story. “Come on then.”

  “What?” Isabelle was moving with her friend as they headed downstairs although she didn’t know why. “Why are we leaving?”

  “We have to see what the town is saying.” Kitty dragged Isabelle out the door, before she could mount a protest.

  The streets were fairly empty as the girls got out of the carriage. Lysa, Alayne, and Miranda had come with the older girls. They were always up for a trip uptown with Kitty. In truth the girls found their own sister very boring. Isabelle was not half the socialite Kitty was.

  “Let’s find you something to wear tonight,” Kitty said as she grabbed Isabelle’s arm. As they walked to the store a pounding of hooves interrupted the calm of the morning. Kitty started smacking Isabelle on the shoulder to point out the black, windowless carriage that passed by. Isabelle had to admit that the carriage seemed ominous. “As if it belonged to the devil himself.” Kitty offered.

  “And you want me to find a nice dress for him,” Isabelle quipped, “A new dress for dinner with the devil himself.”

  “We need to make sure it is a warm dress,” Kitty said as she started pulling Isabelle toward the store once more. “In case you take another walk.” Kitty laughed and put her head on Isabelle’s shoulder as they made their way down the street. Isabelle’s younger sisters in tow.

  “Crimson,” was all that Isabelle had to say to get Kitty to put the first dress back. Kitty knew that her friend only wore white or yellow. Isabelle liked plain dresses and usually made her own. Lysa was the only one of the Bernard sisters who insisted on store bought dresses. Kitty continued to push for ruffles and lace, as she always did, but Isabelle would not be swayed.

  “This is just the tiniest of ruffles,” Kitty held up a yellow flowing chemise gown. It was plain in every way, just a hint of embroidery along the slightly ruffled neckline. Kitty needed reinforcements, she could already see Isabelle’s head starting to shake. “Get behind me girls,” Kitty called out.

  “What are you doing?” Isabelle wondered as her sisters got behind Kitty. Kitty was holding the dress in front of her like it was a weapon.

  “It is a cavalry charge,” Kitty laughed. “We just have to run through your defences and you will be forced to try this dress.” Isabelle started to back away, but she was swarmed. Mr. Jeffery’s Linens & Cloth Shop was nearly empty, but the few onlookers still brought a healthy blush to Isabelle’s cheeks. Isabelle was distractedly trying to apologize to the bystanders when Kitty got the dress over her head. Isabelle tried to run, but she was caught. Kitty and the Bernard sisters landed in a heap, pulling down a pile of fabric and dish towels as they fell.

  “Have you not finished embarrassing me?” Colonel Raglan’s voice was booming in from the doorway. All of the giggling died away under the weight of the colonel’s glare. He quickly turned and walked off down the street. The girls stood up and began folding the discarded linens and putting everything back the way it had been. Isabelle put her head on Kitty’s shoulder as they folded towels beside each other.

  “I’m fine,” Kitty laughed. It was not the hearty laugh Isabelle was used to. “This will only force him to redouble his efforts to find me a husband.” Kitty smiled, “And then we can work on embarrassing them together.”

  “Them?” Isabelle asked.

  “Yes, you Edmund, and me, I don’t know probably a lord,” Kitty mused, “You and I will knock plates and dishes asunder and then Lord Whomever can yell at us about manners and polite society.” Isabelle smiled, but she could see the sadness in her friend’s japes.

  “So now you are marrying me off to the devil himself?” Isabelle tried to change the subject. She needed happy Kitty today.

  “I think he is a spy,” the devilish glint was back in Kitty’s eye. “I think the after, Edmund was talking about, was after I agreed to be his spy.”

  “But Napoleon is dea…”

  “Is he?” Kitty cut Isabelle off. “Or, did his spy sneak him off the island in a windowless carriage. Now Napoleon is making his plans to attack Britain from the inside.” Isabelle laughed as she
could see Kitty getting more and more excited by her own story. It was the exact same tone Isabelle had thought Kitty saved for gossip. Fake gossip seemed to have the same effect. Isabelle stood there reconsidering everything Kitty had ever told her.

  “K..K…Kitt..ty!” The voice came from behind the girls.

  “Reginald, how are you?” Kitty turned and smiled graciously at Reginald Cumberland. Reginald had been in love with Kitty since they were children. Kitty had been repulsed by the sight of him for at least as long. Isabelle said hello to Reginald, and he politely acknowledge her, but he truly only had eyes for Kitty.

  Reginald was already the Member of Parliament for the Caddington riding, which meant that he spent very little time in town. Kitty was continually fighting with her father over marrying the stuttering politician. “I like to talk,” Kitty had explained to Isabelle, “I cannot marry a man that I cannot talk to.” Isabelle had conceded the point, Kitty did like to talk.

  “We were just heading out,” Kitty said as she grabbed Isabelle’s arm and pulled her hard toward the door. “On my father’s account.” Kitty said waving the dress at Mr. Jeffrey without breaking stride. The old merchant just nodded his head.

  “I am developing a bruise!” Isabelle said as the got into the street. “You have to stop pulling me every which way.”

  “I am sorry dear,” Kitty feigned concern. “Maybe Edmund can kiss it better.”

  “Unless he and Napoleon kidnap me.”

  “Then maybe Napoleon can kiss it better.”

  “Going over to the other side dear sister,” Victor had emerged from The Downward Fiddle, just in time to butt into the conversation. He was far too well dressed for the time of day. The wrinkles on his clothes and bloodshot eyes gave away the truth.

  It was times like this that reminded Isabelle that Victor was technically her intended, however much she despised it. It had all been settled when they were toddlers. Fortunately neither of the fathers had felt the need to solidify the match. Neither Isabelle nor Victor was keen on the idea as far as Isabelle knew. Kitty had promised over and over again that she would never let the cad lay a finger on Isabelle.

  The colonel never forced his hand, because he wanted his son Victor to prove himself in his own right. Victor Raglan was also embarrassing to his father, but in a different way than his sister. “I shouldn’t think either one of you would waste time kissing Frenchmen, least of all dead ones.”

  “What do you want Victor?” Kitty always took up the same exasperated tone when she spoke to her brother.

  “Jewels and riches mainly, but our good father has informed me that I am in want of a bath,” Victor smiled, “It seems we are all to dine at the Bernard’s table tonight. Along with a certain gallant soldier who everybody seems to be smitten by…smitten of…smitt…however that goes.” Victor moved on very uncertain feet toward a waiting carriage. Kitty could see her father boiling over with rage as he watched his son stumbling down the sidewalk.

  “Well, this should be most exciting!” Kitty said when her male relatives had managed to pull away.

  Kitty helped Isabelle get ready. Isabelle had never spent much time thinking about makeup and jewelry, but tonight she wanted everything to be perfect. “You look perfect.” Kitty backed away to let Isabelle enjoy the vision in the mirror. It was hard for Isabelle to handle. Her mother had always raised her to be a person of substance. Since her mother’s death, in labor with Miranda, Isabelle had taken it upon herself to pass the lessons on to her sisters.

  Isabelle had been the only one old enough to really remember her mother. The others did not take kindly to their sister’s lessons and Isabelle had long since given up on trying to instruct her sisters in how to live. She had however, tried to show them by example. She didn’t spend time worrying about her hair, or buying clothes. Somehow today felt different to Isabelle. She had a reason to look her best. Kitty could sense this and tried her best to push the limits.

  “I am not going to swoon!” Isabelle warned.

  “I am not saying you have to swoon,” Kitty argued. “It is just a tiny little fan, you wave it in your face, or use it to hide behind.” Kitty had even convinced her friend to wear a very showy necklace. The other Bernard sisters had never seen Isabelle so dressed up.

  “See, I told you she wasn’t a monster,” Miranda teased.

  As they entered the dining room their father, Edmund, Victor, and the colonel were already around the table. The soup was already out. Nan, their Matron, was a better nanny than hostess, but she was an excellent cook.

  “Nice to see you girls made it down,” Colonel Raglan’s voice overflowed with sarcasm, “My soup is now properly chilled.”

  “We are very sorry fath…”

  “Reginald!” The colonel cut Kitty off as the MP appeared standing in the doorway. “I am so glad you could make it.” Kitty had turned a deep shade of red as she realized that the only empty seat was beside her. Reginald sat down and smiled fondly at her.

  “I..Immm g..g.lad t…to be here.” Reginald looked around the table smiling. He got right to work on his soup so that he could avoid trying to talk. Isabelle smiled back at Reginald and tried to look at Edmund. She knew that her cheeks would give her away. Nan had told Isabelle once that she blushed with her whole body and Isabelle knew it to be true. The redness would start in her cheeks, but it would soon travel down her neck and chest. It wouldn’t be long before she had entirely changed color.

  “Edmund, how long will you be in Caddington?” Lord Bernard asked. Isabelle stole a peek at Edmund when she knew that he would be turned the other way. Her father was at the other end of the table.

  “I am not sure,” Edmund said. He turned back fast and caught Isabelle’s gaze. She could feel the warmth moving down her neck. “I have business on Saint Helene to attend to, but it should keep for a few months.”

  Kitty had forgotten all about her seating troubles when she noticed Isabelle. The boisterous young woman had to fight to keep the laughter down. She made slight motions at Isabelle trying to show her how far the blushing had crept down her neck. Isabelle gave her friend a stern look, but that was just making it harder for her not to laugh.

  “You never told us the other night,” The Colonel started. He sounded very distracted. Colonel Raglan was trying to figure out what was afflicting Kitty, who was nearly convulsing in her soup, and fighting with Victor to keep wine out of his cup. “Whatever happened to the man who shot you? Surely there must have been a disciplinary hearing?”

  “He claims that the punishment is unending.” Edmund laughed a bit to himself, “I hired him on to drive my coach.”

  “Really, he shoots you and you give him a job?” The colonel seemed to be weighing the merits of the arrangement. “I guess that does sound fitting, in a manner of speaking.”

  “In a manner of speaking!” Victor stood up as if to make a toast. His father pulled him back down into his seat. Victor slumped even farther than he had been before he stood up. He seemed to be humming, but everyone chose to ignore it.

  Isabelle could feel Edmund’s eyes on her throughout the dinner. He barely looked away. Even when addressing others at the table, Edmund’s eyes were fixed on Isabelle. As focused as Edmund was on Isabelle, there were other young ladies at the table who were just as focused on him. Isabelle was always embarrassed when she took her sisters out in public. The girls were busy employing their social graces to drive Isabelle crazy, and even their father, a man who did not notice much, recognized that something was wrong with the women at his table.

  “Lysa, if you fan yourself any harder you are bound to float away,” Sir Thomas didn’t look up from his plate. He had never been sure what to do with all of these girls. After his wife died the Baronet had relied heavily on Nan to handle teaching and disciplining the girls. Lysa wasn’t the only one trying to get Edmund’s attention. Alayne and Miranda were also doing their best to bat their eyes and feign laughter. Alayne was nearly on the floor after every comment the Lieutenant m
ade.

  As dinner came to a close, Sir Thomas Bernard led most of the gentlemen to his library for cigars and brandy. Isabelle looked over at Kitty. “Why don’t we see if Nan has anymore desserts?” Kitty grabbed Lysa by the ear, and with a stern look at the other two, the room had been cleared for Edmund and Isabelle.

  “I have to apologize for my sisters,” Isabelle shrugged. She was still working up the courage to meet Edmund’s gaze.

  “No need,” Edmund smiled. “They are playing their role.”

  “And what role is that?”

  “The role of the socialite damsel,” A smile crossed his lips, “Whether they are in distress or not?”

  “And how do you prefer your damsels?” Isabelle had never wanted to be a damsel. In distress or otherwise.

  “Not,” Edmund stood up and started walking around to sit closer to Isabelle. “I am against the institute of damsels.”

  “I have never been to such an institute.” Isabelle tried to stand, but Edmund put a hand on her chair blocking the young woman’s escape. Other than dancing, Isabelle had never really been this close to a man. She had certainly never been alone in a room with a man this close to her. She wanted Edmund to be close, but Isabelle was not ready for things to be moving this rapidly.

  “I can tell,” the Lieutenant’s gaze moved right through Isabelle, she was mesmerized by the purple veins running through the soldiers ice-blue eyes. The Lieutenant started to lean forward in his chair. Isabelle was frozen with fear, but she knew that she wanted Edmund to keep edging closer. As he neared the young lady’s quivering lips, the soldiers head turned. His mouth went right past her cheek bone. Isabelle felt a chill shoot down her spine as Edmund’s nose grazed the neck.

  “Ummm!” Edmund shot backwards off the chair and was standing. Isabelle could see blood coming off of either corner of Edmund’s mouth.

  “Did you bite your lip?” Isabelle asked as she stood to try and hep. Edmund was pacing frantically back and forth. Isabelle put a hand on his shoulder and felt the body shift and turn. Edmund was holding his mouth shut and it looked as though he was wrestling with his own tongue.

 

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