But it wasn’t possible! Auberon couldn’t have painted the painting of Bellamira. He wasn’t old enough. Perhaps Auberon learned to paint from whoever painted Bellamira’s portrait.
But then she recalled the signature on her painting. And on the rental agreement. And the love letters. Her heart froze.
They were the same.
She knew she had seen Auberon’s signature on her painting before. And now she knew where from. She hesitated, but she knew she had to check Bellamira’s painting. She had to know if they were painted by the same man.
She held her breath as she stepped forward and bent over to get a closer look at Bellamira’s portrait. She saw it, clear as day.
Auberon’s signature.
She gasped and stepped back. The window to the room flew open as a sharp, cold, wet breeze filled the room, scattering the love letters and the rental documents.
“Oh no!” she yelled as she tried to collect the papers from the floor. She picked up as many as she could and then ran to the desk to shove them into the top drawer before they were lost.
“What is the meaning of this?” Bellamira demanded.
Isoline looked up, and she felt ice in her veins. Bellamira was standing there in the doorway, her face hard as iron. She bent down to pick up one of the letters that had flown free, the first one Isoline had opened.
Isoline stood stone still, waiting for Bellamira’s reaction. Bellamira pulled the letter out of the envelope, read it, and her face softened. She held the letter to her chest and lowered her head. Isoline thought her aunt was about to cry, and she started to move toward her from around the desk, but as soon as Bellamira looked back up, any hint of sentimentality was replaced by rage.
“How dare you!” she yelled, crumpling the letter in her hand and flinging it to the ground. “You sneak around my house, going through my things!”
“Aunt,” Isoline tried to say. “I’m sorry. I was just so scared—”
“Scared?” Bellamira asked, but clearly not wanting an answer. “What do you have to be scared of? Have I not taken you in? Given you a room? Food? Clothes? And this is how you betray me? By rifling through my personal things?”
“I’m so, so sorry, aunt,” Isoline tried again. “But I just—”
Bellamira stomped over to Isoline and gripped her by the wrist in a grasp so strong, Isoline was shocked into silence. Bellamira then dragged Isoline out of the room and down the hallway.
“Auntie,” Isoline pleaded. “I’m sorry. Please, just talk to me.”
“I’ll speak to you no more,” Bellamira said as she opened the door to Isoline’s room and shoved her inside.
Isoline lost her balance and fell into the room. Bellamira slammed the door closed, and Isoline heard the click of the lock. She banged on the door.
“Auntie!” she cried. “What is happening? Why did you lock the door?” She shook the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Just stay in there until I’ve decided what to do with you!” Bellamira shouted through the door, then Isoline heard her steps retreat down the hallway.
“Wait!” Isoline called out. “Come back! Don’t leave me! Auntie! Bess! Talbot! Anyone!”
But there was no reply, and soon the house was once again as silent as before, save the rain on the window and Isoline crying.
Chapter Seventeen
Isoline had no choice but to stay in her room and wait. She rubbed her wrist, which was sore from where her aunt had grabbed her and tossed her about like a rag doll. Where the woman who had seemed so old and frail lately gained such strength was beyond her. And her rage. Yes, Isoline had been wrong to snoop through her aunt’s things, but the fury in her eyes gave Isoline chills. Any hope she’d had for a reconciliation with Bellamira was gone now. What was to become of her?
Her father was sure to be furious with her as well. Her chance of becoming Bellamira’s heir was gone, as were any dreams of her family achieving any sort of elevated status by proxy. And what would he do with her? She was penniless and unmarried. A worthless dreg on the family resources. Would he cast her out? Send her to a nunnery? Cart her off to another distant relation? Order her to marry the next old minor lord who happened to glance her way? Every possible option seemed worse than the last.
The rain was pouring now. She could barely even see the tree in the garden. She opened the window and leaned out. There were small outcroppings of ledges here and there, but she did not imagine it would be possible for her to climb down without breaking her neck on the best of days, much less in a driving rain. Where would she go anyway? Her only friends were Vicar Edwards and his wife. And while they might be able to shelter her for a night or two, she couldn’t see them housing her for any longer than that.
She sat on her bed and tried not to cry, but she felt completely hopeless.
Then she thought of Auberon. While it would be improper for him to take her in, he could take her away. They could go to Vicar Edwards and he could marry them. Bellamira would certainly cast him off the land for doing so, but they would at least have each other, and together they could figure out what to do next. She still believed he was an exceptionally skilled artist. Perhaps he could find another patron. One in London, or even on the continent! She had always dreamed of traveling to France or Italy. It would be difficult at first since they had no money...Or did they? What was it that Beatrice had said? She said that Auberon was wealthy. She never did get to ask him about that. It was possible, she supposed. He seemed to have very few expenses living in that tiny cottage. If he had saved and invested well, maybe they wouldn’t have to worry about money right away.
What was she thinking? Marry Auberon? Today? Now? She hardly knew him. Of course, she was developing feelings for him. She didn’t deny that. She would even go so far as to admit that, yes, she was falling in love with him. But was she already there? She didn’t know. They were only courting, not engaged. Was she really considering marrying a man she hardly knew just to escape a bad situation? She shook her head as she continued to pace. She didn’t know. If only she could talk to him. Talk to anyone! She was desperate for any amount of information. But it had been hours since Bellamira had locked her in this room and she had not heard a peep since. No one brought her any luncheon or afternoon tea, and her growling stomach reminded her of just how hungry she was.
She went to the door and jiggled the handle again, but it was still locked. She did not expect otherwise, but still had a small bit of hope in the corner of her heart that some kind soul had unlocked it. She was disappointed it was still locked, but not surprised.
“Hello?” she called softly. “Is anyone there?” There was no answer.
She dropped to her knees and perked through the keyhole. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for. Any sign of human life, she supposed. After Bellamira had locked her in the room, the eerie silence of the mansion had returned.
She gasped when she saw a swish of skirts pass the door. The dower grey skirts of a maid.
“Bess!” Isoline cried. “Please! Please help me!” She waited in the quiet for a moment and was beginning to think that Bess had continued on her way when she finally heard a reply.
“I’m sorry, miss,” she said. “We are under strict orders to stay away from you.”
“Why?” Isoline asked. “What have I done?”
Bess did not reply, and Isoline had a feeling that Bess knew the answer to her question, but for some reason could not tell her.
“I understand you must remain loyal to your employer,” Isoline said, trying a different tactic. “But if you can’t help me, maybe someone else can.”
“W-w-what do you mean, miss?” Bess asked nervously.
“Auberon,” Isoline said. “You can fetch Auberon. Tell him what’s happened. Ask him to help free me.”
“Oh, miss,” Bess pleaded. “Please don’t ask this of me.”
“Please try,” Isoline said, feeling her only chance of escape slipping away. “I…I need you. I need him. Please hel
p me.”
Bess did not respond, but Isoline could sense she was still there. She waited for a reply, but one did not come. Finally, she heard the rustle of Bess’s skirts as she turned and walked down the hall. Isoline sighed and sat with her back against the door. While Bess hadn’t agreed to help, she at least didn’t say no.
A small ray of hope returned to her heart.
By that evening, the rain had eased to a slow drizzle. Isoline felt mentally and physically exhausted. She was also so hungry she was starting to feel ill. But she couldn’t rest. She was so anxious that if she tried to lay down, she only tossed and turned as every possible, horrible outcome ran through her mind.
But finally, she heard a click as her door was unlocked and opened.
“You are wanted in the parlor,” Talbot said in his usual stoic voice, but worry was clear in the lines around his eyes.
Isoline rushed past him and into the hallway, as though he might change his mind and lock her back in, even though Isoline knew he wouldn’t dare act of his own accord and was following Bellamira’s orders.
“Does my aunt wish to see me?” Isoline asked, though she didn’t imagine it could be anyone else. Talbot only grimaced and motioned toward the stairwell. Isoline wasn’t sure how to interpret this, but she had no choice other than to go to the parlor and see who was waiting.
“Ah, Isoline,” a tall, thin man with yellow teeth said with a smile as she entered the room. “What a pleasure it is to finally meet you.” He offered her his hand, which she cautiously took. It was cold and clammy, how she imagined it would feel to touch a snake. “Please, sit.” He motioned toward the sofa across from him, and James brought her a teacup along with a plate of biscuits and finger sandwiches.
“Oh, thank you,” she nearly gasped as she grabbed the plate from him and devoured a cucumber sandwich with one bite.
The odd man said nothing but eyed her with a curious gleam in his eye.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she gulped her tea after the second sandwich. “I’m simply famished.”
“No need to apologize,” he said. “I hear you have had a…difficult few days.”
Isoline regarded him as she ate one, two, three biscuits. “And who are you?” she asked rather bluntly.
“You may call me Dr. Shore. I’m a friend of your aunt, from York.”
“She’s never mentioned you,” Isoline said as she slowed her eating, the food settling uncomfortably in her stomach.
Dr. Shore chuckled. “I don’t think Lady Payne speaks much of her personal life, does she? Even to her own family?”
Isoline knew that delving into Bellamira’s private life was part of the reason why she was in this mess. “I don’t wish to discuss my aunt with someone I don’t know,” Isoline said.
Dr. Shore nodded. “Probably wise. Maybe you could tell me something about you.”
“Me?” she asked.
“Indeed,” he said. “How have you settled in here at Thornrush Manor?”
“I like it just fine,” she said.
“Do you sleep well?” he asked quickly.
“I beg your pardon?” Isoline asked indignantly.
“Your dreams,” he clarified. “I have heard from several people that you talk quite often about your dreams.”
Who was this man and why would he have any interest in her dreams? Where was her aunt? What did any of this have to do with her current dispute with Bellamira?
“I’m sorry,” she said as she stood. “I’m simply not comfortable speaking you on this matter. Please excuse me.” But as she turned to leave, he gripped her arm.
“I’m sorry, my dear,” he said as she tried to pull free. “But I am afraid you are going to have to come with me.”
“What?” she shrieked as she continued to struggle. “What are you talking about? Who are you?”
“Your aunt and I believe your mind has become...alienated from your true nature, and that you would benefit from a stay at my facility,” he explained, and Isoline felt her face blanch.
This man was a doctor of the mind. He thought she was insane and was taking her to an asylum!
“No!” she cried, somehow finding the strength to break free and run from the parlor toward the front door. It was late, dark, cold, and wet. But she didn’t care. She would face all manner of hardship before she allowed herself to be committed. She would hide in the woods and then somehow make it back to her father’s house. He could never stand the shame of having a daughter in an asylum.
But as she neared the door, two men in white uniforms she didn’t know were standing there, blocking her escape. They must work for Dr. Shore, she realized, turning back, but Dr. Shore was in her path. She looked up the grand staircase, but Talbot and James were there. Behind them stood Bellamira.
“Auntie!” Isoline cried. “Please! I’m so sorry. I was completely in the wrong. But I’m not crazy! Don’t let him take me away!”
Bellamira only frowned, her claw-like hands folded in front of her. She was starting to truly look old. Her face was wrinkled and her skin papery. She had lost so much weight her dress nearly hung off of her. What was happening to her?
Isoline heard the front door open, so she turned. “Auberon!” she cried as he entered, dripping wet from the rain. She was so happy she nearly burst into tears.
“What is happening?” he asked as Isoline ran into his arms.
“Auntie is sending me to an insane asylum!” Isoline quickly explained. “Don’t let her! Help me! Take me away from this place.”
“What?” he asked, holding Isoline tight as one of the uniformed men approached. “Bellamira!” he yelled, shocking Isoline by using her aunt’s given name. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Stay out of this, Auberon,” Bellamira snapped stepping between Talbot and James as she descended the stairs. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“This has everything to do with me,” he growled. “You agreed—”
“But don’t you see,” Bellamira said, cutting him off. “Everything has changed.”
Isoline’s head was spinning. What were they talking about? Why were they even talking? They should be running! She tugged on Auberon’s arm. “Please, let’s just go,” she begged. She then felt the hand of one of the uniformed men on her shoulder, trying to pull her away. “Stop!” she screamed, trying to get away from him and back into the safety of Auberon’s embrace, but as the man pulled her further from Auberon, Auberon did not try to pull her back to him!
“What do you mean?” Auberon asked Bellamira, but Isoline didn’t wait for an answer. She couldn’t. Both of the uniformed men were dragging her toward the door, helpfully held open by Dr. Shore.
“Auberon,” Isoline shouted. “Auberon, help me!”
He let her go.
He just stood there, looking helplessly at Bellamira as Isoline slipped from his grasp and was dragged outside toward a waiting carriage.
“No, no, no!” Isoline screamed and cried as the men picked her up and threw her into the carriage and locked the door. She pounded on the window for help, but she knew everyone would obey Bellamira.
Auberon, Talbot, and James all stayed inside, not even coming outside to see her taken away. But as Dr. Shore ordered the horses to go and the carriage jolted forward, to one side of the main door, hidden in the bushes, she saw the pale face and damp red hair of Bess. She must have fetched Auberon like Isoline had asked and then had been too afraid to enter the house lest Bellamira discover her disobedience.
This one bit of knowledge, though useless to her, gave her a small amount of comfort. Maybe she wasn’t completely alone in this cruel world.
She ceased screaming, but sank to the floor of the carriage and burst into tears.
Chapter Eighteen
Isoline,
I am disappointed to hear of your current situation, but I suppose I should have seen this coming. You always were an odd girl. I suppose I overlooked your strangeness out of sentimentality, but your aunt clearly has your
best interests at heart. If she thinks you would benefit from the rest, I am not one to correct her. Follow the directions of the doctors so you may get better soon and eventually return to Thornrush Manor.
Your father,
Vincent Beresford
Isoline crumpled the letter up and threw it to the floor. She held her head in despair. Always an odd girl? Whatever did he mean by that? She had always been dutiful. Could he possibly still be angry with her over calling off her engagement to Cyril? The man always could hold a grudge. She also noticed that he said she could return to Thornrush if she were released instead of returning home. Did he really think she would return to the home of a woman who had her committed to an asylum in the middle of the night after a single row? A row she didn’t even understand? She never did find out why Bellamira was angry with her. And now she supposed she never would. She had been at the institution for several days and had heard nothing from her aunt. Even worse, she had heard nothing from Auberon.
Auberon.
She was more confused about him that ever before. She had severely misjudged his relationship with Bellamira. She thought he was merely a reclusive tenant that her aunt found amusing and somewhat useful. But they certainly had some sort of past relationship that Isoline had been completely blind to.
He could not have been the man who sent the old love letters or painted her portrait. It was impossible. It had to be his grandfather. But was it possible that her Auberon also had some sort of affair with Bellamira? A woman maybe sixty years his senior? She had to admit it could have happened. She had heard rumors of older widows taking young men as lovers, but never a woman of ninety! Of course, when Isoline arrived, Bellamira did not appear to be ninety, but much younger. Even now, appearing older and more frail than before, she did not show her true age. It would not be unreasonable for a woman who only appeared to be fifty should have a young paramour. It would explain why the vicar had warned her away from him, and even why Tristan had called Auberon a rake. She nearly felt sick in her stomach at the thought of Tristan possibly being right about him.
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