Chapter Twenty-Four

 

Isabel rose the following morning in the best spirits she had experienced in some time. To be able to speak to her mother and share with the woman the very secrets that plagued her soul began a cleansing of sorts. Now, rather than wallowing in what she realized was her self-pity, Isabel had a sense of determination. She would put her secrets to canvas and ease the pain that resided deep inside her once and for all.

“You seem spirited this morning, Your Grace,” Nancy said as she adjusted the final ribbon on her dress. It is good to see you smile.”

Isabel looked at the woman’s reflection as she sat before the dressing table. “It is good to smile,” she replied. “I must admit I have not done so as of late.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that, Your Grace,” Nancy said as she put the curling iron to a strand of Isabel’s long blond hair. “You being a duchess and all, well, that lets you be however you want to be.”

“That does not mean I should be unhappy.”

Nancy gasped in horror. “Oh, no, Your Grace! I didn’t mean to tell you how you should feel…”

Isabel laughed. “It was not a reprimand,” she said, and the girl relaxed visibly. “What I meant to say was that it is my right to control how I feel, and it is about time I took back that control.”

Nancy gave her a puzzled look but did not comment. How could she understand the agony Isabel felt if the young woman had yet to marry? Had yet to live through the atrocities of life? Had yet to become a widow? Granted, almost everyone experienced the mountains and valleys of life, but she hoped that, if this girl was forced to endure them, they did not come tumbling down around her as they had for Isabel.

As Nancy continued on Isabel’s hair, babbling about this and that as she worked, Isabel looked at the woman staring back at her. Her mother had been correct; a girl existed inside her who was once happy, and Isabel believed she would find her and release her from the prison she, herself, had created. And the painting she created would be the first step in that rescue.

“There,” Nancy said as she stepped back from her finished work. “Does it meet your approval?” Morning dressing was much easier than readying for dinner, and the girl had formed large curls from Isabel’s otherwise straight hair, pulled it all back with pins, and finished it off with a strip of fabric that matched Isabel’s morning dress.

“It is perfect,” Isabel said as she rose from the stool.

Nancy beamed with pride, and Isabel was glad. “I am so pleased that you are with us, Nancy,” she said as she placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “You are a wonderful addition to our staff, and I do not know what I would do without you.”

The girl blushed at the compliment. “I’m so terribly happy to be here, Your Grace,” she said with a curtsy.

Isabel made her way to the ballroom. She did not know how many days it would take her to complete the painting, but whatever it took, she would do it. What she wished was that she could complete it in one day, but what she had learned was that paint needed time to dry between layers. No, she could not be impatient with this piece of art, for it was to be her redemption—and her salvation.

When she arrived at the ballroom, she caught the movement of a figure outside in the garden. Laurence stood alone, staring in the distance, and Isabel readily joined him. The sun beamed down on them, and the sky was a deep blue with just a hint of clouds scattered across the horizon.

“I did not know you visited the gardens in the morning,” Isabel said as she came to stand beside him.

Laurence chuckled. “This is the first time, or rather the first in some time. Either I am busy painting or I have work that needs completing, both of which keep me away from the crisp morning air.” He sighed. “Now, I realize that I have missed many enjoyable things in life that cost not a single farthing.”

Isabel smiled but said nothing, enjoying the light breeze that rustled her skirts.

“Harriet came by to see me while you were gone.”

“Oh?” Isabel asked. What did that woman want now? That was another item on her long list of things to repair. The woman might be her sister-in-law, and sister to Laurence, but she would no longer be allowed to create predicaments in Isabel’s family. Either she—Isabel—would set the woman straight, or she would see that Laurence did.

“We have mended our relationship,” Laurence said.

Isabel groaned inwardly. What lies had Harriet told him to get him to agree to a reconciliation? Yet, Laurence had a peace about him that was not there before when speaking of his sister. Perhaps Isabel should allow him to finish, for now her curiosity was piqued.

“I will not go into details at the moment,” Laurence continued, “but we were able to iron out our differences. I realize I have been a fool in the past when it came to my sister, but this time I know she spoke the truth. Never has she outrightly apologized, and yet, that was exactly what she did.”

Isabel was shocked. She did not know the woman well, but what she had seen of her was enough to show the type of person she was. And that person did not apologize. Not for anything. However, if that is what Harriet did, the tale would be good indeed, and she was anxious to hear it. When Laurence was ready to share it and not a minute before.

“I am happy for you,” she said. “She reminds me a bit of Juliet, or rather Juliet of her. Either way, their hearts are good, but they are consumed by mischief.”

Laurence laughed. “I have heard tales of women leaving for grand adventures and for faraway lands. I never believed them, yet Juliet strikes me as the type of woman to make a go of it.”

Isabel joined in his laughter. “Indeed. I can certainly see that,” she said. She reached up and adjusted the lapel of his coat. “There we are. I cannot have a duke who wears his coat with a rumpled lapel.” She gave him an impish grin.

“I should hope not,” he replied with an amused smile. “Very well, if you are finished dressing me,” this made them both laugh, “and if you are ready, we should begin painting. Unless you wish to eat something first?”

“No,” Isabel replied firmly. “I am ready.”

The returned to the ballroom, and Isabel noticed that the easels, which in the past had sat side by side, now sat apart and faced each other.

She raised an eyebrow at him, and he chuckled. “I thought it would be nice if we did not see one another’s work until they were completed.”

“That is a wonderful idea,” Isabel agreed. “May I begin now?”

“Yes, of course,” he said. He sounded surprised, but Isabel did not wish to relinquish even the tiniest of moments; she had too much to do.

They went to their prospective stools and Isabel slipped the apron over her head. Then she collected her tools, organizing them just so, and with a brush in hand, she sat on the stool before the empty canvas. For a brief moment, panic overtook her. Where did she begin? However, she closed her eyes and recalled the conversation she and her mother had shared the night before. She had shared her heart then and it was time to do it once again.

In her mind, she pictured Scarlett Hall with its dark gray walls and tall height. The hedges that grew to either side of the front door rustled as Juliet rushed through them, and the large trees Hannah could often be found reading in the shade they provided stood tall. However, it was not the bushes or trees she had to paint; it was herself. Therefore, opening her eyes, Isabel knew exactly where to begin.

On her pallet, she mixed the perfect gray. She dipped the tip of the brush into the new color and brought it to the canvas, and her heart pulled. However, as the brush moved in a solid stroke, it was as though a small chain that had bound her heart loosened. It was the most wondrous of feelings, which only increased with the next pass of the brush.

For some time—Isabel was unsure how long—she focused on her artwork, ignoring everything around her. The ballroom no longer existed, nor did the windows. Nor did Laurence across the way. Just she, the canvas, the brushes, the paints, and her emotions. Each stroke was perfect, the colors mixed with care.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, exhaustion forced her to stop, and she wiped her brushes and placed them in the oil before observing her work thus far.

The painting was far from complete, but Isabel could already see traces of what it would become, and that brought her joy.

She glanced over at Laurence, who was also cleaning his brushes as he studied his canvas. He looked her way, and although they sat separate from one another, she felt closer to the man than she ever had.

“I do not believe I can paint anymore today,” he said with a sigh.

Isabel laughed. “You are not alone,” she said as she joined him in the center of the room. “I never realized how tiring painting could be.”

He chuckled. “Painting from the heart takes much more effort than copying what we see in front of us.” He paused. “Shall we eat, or would you rather paint through the remainder of the day and starve ourselves instead?”

Isabel laughed at his joke. “It will do us no good to starve. What would people think of finding us thin and dying beside our paintings?”

“I would not care,” Laurence replied as they made their way to the dining room. “Let them think what they wish.”

Isabel loved the answer her husband gave, for it expressed her thoughts, as well.

“If it is not too much to ask,” John said, “I would like to breakfast in the garden. Would you care to join me?”

“Yes,” Isabel said without hesitation. “I would be honored.”

It was not long after that they sat at a table in the middle of the garden. They ate in tranquility, sharing in pleasant conversation, and Isabel found that she enjoyed it so much that it saddened her when Laurence said he had work to complete.

After he returned to the house, she remained at the table, her mind not focused on the past as it had been when she first arrived at Camellia Estates but, for the first time in many years, she thought of the future.

***

“It was at that point,” Laurence was saying as he sat beside Isabel on the sofa in the drawing room, “I realized I had one of two possibilities. Either I sell the pigs or keep the land.”

“And what was your decision?” Isabel asked, intrigued by his tale.

“To keep both of them,” he replied with a laugh, which Isabel echoed. “A local man was in need of work, and to this day he runs that farm. He now has a family, who has joined him in the cottage, and they have been wonderful tenants ever since.”

“How amusing,” she said. “I do wonder, however…”

Her thoughts were broken off as the door opened and Weber entered, Nancy following behind him.

“Your Graces,” Weber said, bowing his head as Nancy curtsied, “forgive my intrusion and rudeness, but I thought it imperative I speak with you.”

Laurence sat up and placed his glass on the table. “What is it?”

Isabel wondered why Nancy wrung her hands. “What is the matter?” she asked as she hurried to her lady’s maid. “Nancy?”

“I am sorry, Your Grace,” the girl said, and then she began to sob. “I did not mean to hit her! I thought she was a thief and only wanted to protect your property.”

“What is this?” Laurence demanded.

“Who did you hit?” Isabel asked, keeping her tone even. The girl was scared enough without shouting at her. She glared at Laurence with that thought.

“Her-her Grace’s sister,” Nancy sobbed. “Please do not dismiss me! I didn’t mean to, I promise!”

“You are going nowhere,” Isabel promised. “My sister? Is she still here?”

“We all are.”

Isabel turned to find Juliet, Hannah, and Annabel standing in the doorway. None seemed injured in any way, although Isabel looked for any signs of blood or bumps.

“She hit me with a pillow,” Juliet said. “Do not be angry with her; it was my own fault for startling her.”

Isabel had two distinct thoughts at that moment. One was that never in all the years she had known Juliet, which was since the girl was born, had she ever heard the girl take responsibility for anything she had done against a servant. It was much more typical of her to place all blame on those she considered beneath her, even if the fault was her own.

The second thought that occurred to Isabel was that she had never felt such embarrassment in all her life, and she wondered what Laurence must think of her. However, she had a sobbing maid to contend with and therefore could not worry about Laurence, at least not yet, anyway.

“Nancy,” she said in a quiet tone meant to sooth the girl, “return to your quarters. Sleep well knowing you did no wrong and that you will not be dismissed.”

The poor maid gave a heavy sigh of relief and then dropped into a quick curtsy. “Thank you, Your Grace,” she said with a sniffle.

The door closed behind the maid, and Isabel turned on her sisters. “What are you girls up to?” she demanded. “Have you any idea what trouble you have caused? And why have you come here? And sneaking into the house, no less! What has gotten into you?”

Hannah and Annabel lowered their heads, but Juliet was the one who replied, “We found an open window near the servants’ quarters, so I peered inside. I suppose my footsteps were not as silent as I thought, for the next thing I knew, a pillow came down on my head.”

Isabel groaned inwardly as Laurence turned his back on them. Things had been going so well and now this! He had to be as angry as a hornet!

“That still does not explain why you are here at such a late hour,” Isabel said through gritted teeth. “And the servants’ quarters? I am ashamed and embarrassed; you are all ladies of society, not vagabonds or burglars!”

Laurence stalked from the room. Oh, he was angry indeed! Not only did she have to deal with her sisters, but she would also have to mollify her husband.

“You had better have a good explanation for all this!” Isabel said. “You have embarrassed me in front of my husband. Do you not see? His anger is so great at this moment, he cannot even look at me!”

“I am sorry,” Annabel whispered, and Hannah and Juliet echoed her words. “We did not mean to be caught by your servant.”

“It is not a matter of being caught,” Isabel snapped. “I assume this is all part of some scheme Juliet concocted?”

Juliet jutted her chin. “It is true that the idea was mine, and I will take the flogging come sunrise instead of my sisters.”

Isabel groaned. Always the dramatics when it came to Juliet. “No one is to be flogged. Now, before I become angrier, what are you doing here?”

“Yesterday,” Juliet said, “I went to the gardens and I heard you yelling at Mother.”

Isabel stared at her sister in shock. “You heard?”

“I swear, I only heard a few words,” Juliet assured her. “I may have eavesdropped before, but I do not do so any longer. I am not the child I once was.”

“What exactly did you hear?” Isabel asked, hoping what little Juliet overheard did not include the confession she had shared with her mother.

“That you were chained here at this estate,” Juliet replied.

Isabel sighed. “There are phrases that are used as expressions. I am not literally being chained.”

“I told you,” Hannah whispered. “You would not listen.”

“I am sorry,” Juliet said. “I did it because I care.”

Isabel had never seen her younger sister so contrite, and she realized that, although Juliet was now of age, she still was as naive to life as she ever was. However, that did not excuse her actions, nor that of the other two.

“I appreciate your concern,” Isabel said. “However, let this be a lesson to the three of you. Do not eavesdrop and always ask before assuming the worst.”

All three girls nodded, and Isabel was uncertain what to do next. She looked from one girl to another and finally came to a decision. “You will apologize to His Grace immediately. Wait here while I go in search of him. You had better hope he chooses to accept it.”

Isabel left the room intending to go to the study. However, Laurence stood but a few steps away. His face was as crimson as a ripened apple, and she feared he was close to unleashing his anger on her. Regardless, she had to make him see reason, to make him understand that her sisters meant no harm.

“No words can express how sorry I am for the actions of my sisters,” she said as she hung her head. “I am embarrassed. My family is shamed, and I will have them apologize and whatever else you deem necessary to punish them.”

It was silent for a moment, and Isabel worried the situation could not be resolved. She did not blame him; knowing anyone had attempted to enter the house through a window would have tested the patience of any man.

However, it was not anger that was loosed, for he snorted instead. “Can you imagine their shock,” he asked, “of being hit by a pillow while trying to climb through a window?” His shoulders shook with laughter. “That is perhaps the most comical thing I have ever heard.”

“You are not angry?” Isabel asked in shock.

“Angry? Not in the slightest. I am amazed, however, at the lengths your family will go to call over to one’s house.”

It was with relief that Isabel relaxed, and her previous peace returned. “I am unsure as to what to do. The girls have good hearts. Yet, they frustrate me. Why do they not listen and behave?”

“Such is the way when one gives advice to others,” Laurence replied. “You celebrate when it is taken and groan in frustration when it is not.”

Isabel chuckled. “Yes, there is much truth in that statement. What do you suggest I do?”

Laurence stepped forward, leaving only a few inches between them, and Isabel felt an odd sensation move through her body, a warm, pleasant feeling. “Do you trust me?” he whispered.

Isabel smiled. If he had asked that question even a week earlier, she would have been unsure as to how to respond. However, her heart guided her now, and she replied with a fervent “Yes.”

“Good. We will return to the drawing room and I will threaten to punish them. You will then ask me to spare them. That should be enough to put them in their places so they never do something like this again.”

“That is a brilliant idea,” Isabel replied. She reached out and took his hand. “Thank you for your kindness once again.”

“Always,” he said. They looked at each other for several moments, until a maid gave a small gasp before scurrying away, which only made Isabel giggle.

They returned to the drawing room, Laurence wearing a stern glare and Isabel a worried one. All three girls quickly dropped into perfect curtsies as apologies tumbled from their lips like waterfalls.

“Silence!” Laurence commanded, and they all went quiet. “Your apologies have not sat well with me. To trespass on lands belonging to a member of the Royal Family has very stiff punishments.”

Isabel had to stifle a giggle. The Redbrooks had not been members of the Royal Family for several generations, but she made no move to correct him.

“To enter his home as you did,” he continued, “may be met with hard labor in the sheep fields for a dozen years or more.”

The girls stood staring at each other with wide eyes and gaping mouths. “Please,” Juliet sobbed, “we beg for your mercy.”

“I wish I could,” Laurence replied as if he had no choice in the matter. “However, as a duke, I have a responsibility to the Crown, which means I must report this crime at once.”

Tears ran down their cheeks, and Isabel placed a hand on his arm. They had suffered enough. “Your Grace,” she said, “Might I ask one favor of you?”

“Yes?”

“I can assure you they have learned their lesson. If you were to extend kindness to them, I believe they will behave after today.”

Laurence pursed his lips and appeared to study each girl with deliberation.

They nodded emphatically to Isabel’s words.

“Is this true?” Laurence demanded. “For if I show mercy, you must never speak a word of this to anyone lest I remand my decision.”

“We swear,” Hannah replied. “We will return home at once and never do anything like this again.” The others nodded their agreement.

“Very well,” Laurence said with a sigh. “You should be thankful your sister is kind, for, in such matters as these, I am not.” He then walked over to the window, his back to them.

Isabel ushered her sisters out of the room. “I hope you have learned your lesson,” she said as they made their way to the foyer.

“Oh, we have,” Juliet said. “I cannot imagine being forced to work on a sheep farm!”

“I would not enjoy that,” Hannah agreed.

Annabel nodded. “Neither would I.”

Each girl gave Isabel a hug, assuring her that they would behave from this day forward. Isabel suspected they would have a terrible time keeping that promise, but at least it would put them on the straight and narrow for the time being.

“I love you all,” Isabel said. “And thank you for your concern; however, rest assured that I am happy here.”

“That is all we ever wanted,” Hannah said.

They said their goodbyes, and Isabel watched as the girls headed off to the horses she now saw tied to a tree at the edge of the drive. She sighed, relieved the drama of the night was over. However, it was the words Laurence had said that came to mind. He had asked for her trust, and for the first time in a very long time, she had trusted someone. By doing so, she found that it brought her great happiness.