by Abby Ayles
“It’s hard to say for certain,” Lady Wintercrest said with a glisten in her eyes. “He was so uncomfortable sitting in the chair here, but I feared he might hurt himself worse if he went up to his chamber. Mr. Larson had his bed brought down to the study and, just a few moments ago, helped him to lie down.”
Lord Bellfourd took his mother’s hands in reassurance. “He will be alright. I will take Dr. Thornton to him now. You and Abigail wait here.”
Lord Bellfourd left with the doctor to see to his father. Lady Wintercrest dabbed at her eye with a white lace handkerchief.
“Thank you, Isabella,” Lady Abigail said, taking her hand, “for informing my brother.” She lowered her voice. “I don’t know that Mother would have fared well taking the doctor to inspect him.”
“Of course,” Isabella squeezed Abigail's hand in reassurance. “Anything I can do to help, please let me know, and I would be happy to do it.”
“Perhaps, if you don’t mind, would you sit with us till Christian and Dr. Thornton return?”
“Certainly,” Isabella said taking a seat with Lady Abigail on the sofa.
A few minutes passed, the three ladies sitting and waiting, before the door opened. Their three heads turned quickly to see who it was. It was only a maid bringing in a pot of tea. She set it down on the small table and left quietly.
“Lady Wintercrest, may I pour the tea for you?” Isabella asked.
“Yes, please. Thank you, Miss Watts. I fear my hands are shaking too much now to do it myself. He was just so pale, and in so much pain,” she added, barely above a whisper.
Isabella’s heart went out to Lady Wintercrest. Though there was a vast difference in age, and most likely an arrangement to their union, the duchess genuinely cared for the well-being of her husband.
Isabella poured out the tea and served it to the two ladies.
Upon finishing, she said, “If you would like, Your Grace, I could play a little on the piano for you. It might help calm your nerves.”
“Thank you, Miss Watts, I would appreciate that.”
Isabella made her way to the piano. She had gotten in quite a bit of practice over the last few months. Often, after Jaqueline presented her accomplishments to her grandfather, she was left to visit with the ladies and Isabella would play softly on the piano.
She shuffled through the music, coming to a calming piece by Handel. She felt the tension of the room soften as she made her way through the music. She was grateful that she could be of some help to them while they waited on news.
Finally, after just over an hour, Lord Bellfourd re-entered the room. He was alone. Lady Wintercrest stood at his entrance and Isabella stopped her playing.
He came and sat in the vacant chair by the fire. He was visibly worn from his travel, followed by a long evening tending to his father’s bedside.
He took his mother’s hand, “Dr. Thornton thinks he might have fractured his hip. He also noticed that father’s side was very tender and breathing a little strained. It could just be some bruising compilated with his recent illness.”
“But it could be something worse,” Lady Abigail said, reading what Lord Bellfourd was inferring but not speaking.
Lord Bellfourd gave a solemn nod. “He may have also fractured a rib.”
The duchess raised her handkerchief to her mouth to stifle a sorrowful gasp.
“Dr. Thornton has bound it up tightly, set his fractured hip as best he could, given him something for the pain, and instructed him to get strict rest for at least the next six to eight weeks. Hopefully, it is just bruised and will heal quickly. If it is fractured, it might have punctured his lung, which could be causing the difficulty breathing.”
“What is there to do?” his mother asked.
“The best thing to do is just to let him rest as comfortably as possible. I have already seen the doctor to a room for the night. I didn’t think it right for him to travel home so late.”
Isabella looked at the clock on the mantle. She hadn’t realized how much time had passed but it was getting close to eleven.
“Dr. Thornton will check on Father again before he leaves in the morning and will return as often as needed. The best we can do is pray that he recovers quickly,” Lord Bellfourd added to both his mother and sister.
Lady Wintercrest nodded solemnly and caressed her son’s cheek in a motherly fashion.
Upon standing, she said, “I think I will go and bid your father goodnight and get some sleep myself. You should do the same, Christian; you look dreadfully tired.”
“I’ll come with you, Mother,” Abigail said, standing to join her mother’s side.
“Thank you, Miss Watts,” Lady Wintercrest said before leaving the room, “your music was just what I needed to get me through the night.”
“You’re welcome,” Isabella said with a curtsy. “If there is anything else I can do, Your Grace, I would be happy to help.”
Lady Wintercrest nodded and gave a weak smile before leaving the room.
Isabella made ready to leave, herself. She turned to Lord Bellfourd to say goodnight. Instead of staying by the fire he stood and came over to her.
“I will see you to your room, then,” he said reaching out his arm again for her to take.
“It’s not necessary,” Isabella said.
“I insist. I feel bad that I kept you here so late. The least I can do is see you safely to your door. You never know where dark, strange figures might be lurking,” he teased.
Chapter 15
Lord Bellfourd grabbed the candelabra that was situated on the piano and led Isabella out of the drawing room. They walked through the foyer and up the massive stairs in silence. After getting halfway down the walkway, Lord Bellfourd started to look around, confused.
“Are we coming to your lodging shortly or should we stop and camp for the night,” he said in a joking tone.
“If you would just leave me there at the bottom of the stairs, I am certain I can make the remaining journey on my own.”
“Stairs?” he asked in surprise. “Why on earth are you put so far away from the rest of the household?”
“I don't mind it and enjoy the walk,” Isabella said repetitively. "I only feel bad for poor Betsy who must travel so far each day to deposit my breakfast and supper. I told Mrs. Peterson, I would be happy to eat in the servant hall to save the trouble, but she wouldn’t hear of it.”
“That does seem quite tedious and unnecessary to have a maid make the trek several times a day. I see Mrs. Peterson’s point, however. So, instead, from now on, you must take your morning and evening meals with us.”
“I couldn’t. Your father wouldn’t have it. It would be too inappropriate.”
“If you haven’t learned yet, I don't care much for silly societal rules, especially ones that force a lady to dine alone every day. As for my father, he is not in a state to have an opinion, and I will happily take charge of this particular obligation for him.”
“Well, if you think it won't cause harm,” Isabella faltered in her resolve, “I am most grateful for your kindness, Lord Bellfourd.” She did rather hope to save Betsy from the nasty trip several times a day.
“Good, and maybe, since you now are in my confidence, you might consider just calling me Christian and permit me to call you Isabella, as I notice my sister does?”
“Absolutely not!” Isabella said, stopping at the bottom of the attic stairs. “I will happily let you call me whatever you wish, but I simply refuse to do the same. Whether you like it or not, you have a title now and the responsibility that goes along with it,” Isabella said in an instructive tone.
“It is ridiculous. We are all human beings, walking the same path that leads to the same end.”
“Be that as it may, it is who you are,” Isabella insisted.
Lord Bellfourd seemed to weigh this in his mind. It was something that he would continue to struggle with, Isabella thought, until he accepted his new lot in life.
“I shall take your words un
der advisement, but still encourage otherwise, if only in privacy.”
“When would that ever be?” Isabella asked with a laugh. The thought of the Marquess of Bellfourd in a private setting with the governess was a preposterous one.
Lord Bellfourd made a show of holding up his candelabra in the dark to look for others. He smiled back down at her, with a teasing twinkle in his eyes. No words needed to be said; she had caught his meaning.
He bowed in gentlemanly fashion to Isabella. “Goodnight, Isabella,” he said, still holding that twinkle, with the golden rays of light reflecting from his tightly pulled back hair.
“Goodnight, Lord Bellfourd,” Isabella gave him a similar curtsy but made a point to say his name slowly.
He popped a candle out of its place in the candelabra and handed it over to Isabella.
“For the walk up,” he said, before turning and making his way back down the long walkway and to the opposite side of the manor.
The next morning, as Isabella awoke and dressed, she wondered if she should go down to the breakfast room. Her answer came when Betsy arrived with the basin of hot water.
“Lord Bellfourd gave this to his groomsman this mornin’ for me to pass along,” she said, handing over a small note.
Miss Watts,
I hope you will find the courage to join Her Grace, Lady Abigail, and myself in the breakfast room this morning.
Regards,
Lord Bellfourd.
“What’s it say?” Betsy asked as she practiced yet another hairstyle on Isabella.
“It says I have been invited down to breakfast with the family. I don’t know that I should go,” she added quickly.
“O’ course, ye hav’ta go. I’ll make your hair verra fine today, as well, and ye’ll enter a proper looking lady.”
“But that’s just it- I’m not.”
“Yes, ye are,” Betsy encouraged.
“Not anymore. And I fear that doing such things will only make things harder in the long run. Jaqueline won't need a governess forever. When the time comes for me to leave, I don’t want to have unrealistic expectations of my life.”
“I see yer point. Best just write a note back. Tell His Lordship that, though he is incredibly kind to you and you are good friends with Lady Abigail, you just couldn’t bear to sit for a meal in his company and would much rather eat up here alone.”
Isabella scrunched her nose up at Betsy, hearing her words dripping with sarcasm.
Betsy rested her hand on Isabella’s shoulder and spoke with wisdom beyond her years, “There’s not any wrong in taking a good friendship that is offered. Life can turn and be verra hard at times. Take the good when it comes.”
Isabella took Betsy’s hand and squeezed it gently. With a glisten to her eyes, she thanked Betsy for her words of encouragement.
Isabella hesitated before the breakfast room doors. She lifted her hand to knock, then lowered it again.
“Is there something you need, Miss Watts?” Mrs. Peterson said, appearing from nowhere.
“No, I…” Isabella faltered.
“Miss Watts, I’m so glad you got my note,” a voice called from behind her.
Isabella turned to see Lord Bellfourd sauntering down the hall. He looked much more refreshed than the night before.
He opened the breakfast room door and motioned for Isabella to go on before him. She hesitated for a moment, torn between the friendly gesture in front and the venomous daggers from behind.
Finally, she bid Lord Bellfourd a good morning and made her way in. She heard him give a cheerful salutation to Mrs. Peterson before entering the room himself.
Lord Bellfourd had a very smug look on his face as he kissed his mother on the cheek before helping Isabella into her chair.
“Mother, I hope you don’t mind. I invited Miss Watts to dine with us.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Lady Wintercrest said with a polite smile in Isabella’s direction. “You look very pretty today,” she added for good measure.
“Thank you, Your Grace. May I ask how His Grace is doing this morning?”
“I saw him just before coming to breakfast,” Lady Wintercrest answered. “The doctor saw him early this morning before departing. He was in a grumpy mood over the early hour. Of course, the doctor has others to tend to and couldn’t stay long. I took his cantankerous disposition as a good sign he was feeling better,” she added with hope in her eyes.
“That is wonderful to hear,” Lady Abigail said as she, too, entered the room. She said her good mornings around the table and took her seat.
“Tell us, Christian,” Lady Wintercrest said, halfway through the meal, “how was your time in London?”
“It was fine,” Lord Bellfourd said, doing his best to hide his distaste for the season.
“Just before leaving,” he continued, “I went to a ball hosted by the Earl and Countess of Cunningham.”
“Oh yes, Lady Mary Cunningham! How is my dear friend?” Lady Wintercrest asked conversationally.
Isabella did her best not to show any recognition of the name.
“I only spoke with her for a brief moment. She was very sad that you were not able to make it to London. She suggested coming to visit you at the end of the season.”
“That would be so wonderful,” Lady Wintercrest said clapping her hands together.
“Well,” Lord Bellfourd added cautiously, “I believe it might have something to do with her daughter Lady Lydia Prescott visiting along with her.”
“That’s right. Mary's daughter is only three or four years younger than yourself. It would be a wonderful idea to have them both visit.”
“Wonderful for who?” Lady Abigail asked with a giggle. “I can’t believe, dear brother, you were in town for scarcely half a season, and already you find yourself someone’s beau.”
Isabella kept her eyes on her breakfast plate and nibbled at her toast. She didn’t know why but raging jealousy ran through her veins at the mere thought of Lord Bellfourd courting Lady Lydia. Most likely it was because she had such high regards for Lord Bellfourd.
“I am not anyone's beau. This is my point, exactly,” he said turning to his mother again, “I wouldn’t want to encourage a wrong opinion.”
“Oh, nonsense,” Lady Wintercrest waved him off with a new light of excitement in her eyes. “She is a friend, visiting with her daughter. It would be ridiculous to rumor otherwise.”
“What about Father’s condition. He won’t be fully healed in time. It might not be prudent to have guests.”
“You told me the doctor said six to eight weeks before he was whole again. She would not be here until well past that. Even still if His Grace is not well, he will understand my need for a visit with a dear old friend of mine.”
Lord Bellfourd looked unsure of his mother’s motives. More than likely, the duchess was planning to spend the remainder of the summer plotting with her friend to play matchmaker.
“I will write to Lady Cunningham this afternoon and inform her that she is most welcome to come stay with us.”
Chapter 16
The night of Jaqueline’s birthday was a wonderful celebration. Happily, both Isabella and Mrs. Murray had joined the family and the birthday girl for a beautiful celebratory meal.
* * *
The duke was still unwell and in a lot of pain. Therefore, he was not able to join in on the festivities.
After dinner, the whole party retired to the drawing room for presents and, more importantly, Jaqueline’s performance at the pianoforte for the family.
“A new dress for my doll,” Jaqueline exclaimed as she took out Isabella’s modest gift. “Merci, Mademoiselle Watts,” she said, hugging her governess.
“That turned out so lovely,” Lady Wintercrest said, “you really have a talent for embroidery.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Isabella responded shyly.
Spending the last two days with the family for meals had created a more comfortable atmosphere for Isabella in the home.
> “Well, are you going to play for me now, Jackie?” Lord Bellfourd asked as he tickled his niece.
Jaqueline giggled, then got up to take her governess’ hand. The walked over and sat down at the piano together, as they had so often in the school room over the past few months.
Isabella began by playing a sweet melodic undertone. Waiting for her time to enter, Jaqueline plunked away at her memorized keys in the right order to make the tune of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.
Once the song was done, the room burst into applause. Jaqueline got up and curtsied just as Isabella had taught her to do.
Isabella noticed Mrs. Murray in the corner dabbing at a stray tear.
“Awe, Nursie,” Lady Abigail said affectionately. “Are you getting all soppy eyed on us?”
“Ach, no. It’s just a fine thing to have a wee lass so willing to take music lessons. Much more enjoyable than say, cleaning marmalade off the pianoforte,” she added with a teasing tone.
“It was only the one time,” Lady Abigail replied. “I don’t think my governess was anywhere near as wonderful as Isabella. I am sure I would have been proficient at it if I had such a magnificent tutor.”
The night ended with a plate of petit fours and tea before everyone retired to their respective rooms. Isabella happily held onto Jaqueline’s hand as she skipped her way up the massive stairs to her room, with Mrs. Murray on her other side.
Over the last few months, Isabella had watched Jaqueline blossom from a quiet child to a joyful little girl. Isabella hoped that her presence had helped Jackie feel more comfortable in making Wintercrest Manor her home.
After depositing the little girl to bed with her nurse, Isabella retired to her own room. She had received a letter just that morning from Louisa and was excited to sit down and read it before bed.
My dear Izzy,
I hope that my letter finds you well.
The season is in full swing now, and I can scarcely find time to have a quiet evening at home. Typically, this would be an exciting time.