Authors: Ruth J. Hartman
Izzy sat on the couch, alone. She felt horrible. It had never been her intention to offend or hurt Charles, just to state the fact that she missed many things about her time. The sad look on his face nearly broke her heart. Sighing heavily, she realized, while she
did
miss those things, she was developing feelings for Charles, which would get in the way of her going home to all of that.
Never in her life had she met a man so attentive, so sweet or polite. Was it because of his upbringing and the time period of his birth, or was it just
him?
For the first time, she had doubts about the life she'd pictured for so long.
Her father's cutting remarks echoed through her mind. If he hadn't been so cruel to her, would her outlook have been different? Would her life have been more balanced? Achieving her goal of financial independence had been the driving force behind her ambition for so long, she'd excluded the possibility of anything else. Had she missed out on a special relationship with a man in the past because of it? Was she missing out
now
for something like that with Charles? What if he was her true chance for happiness and she'd ruined it?
Izzy wanted to apologize but couldn't just traipse around the estate trying to find him. If someone saw her, she and Charles would both be in trouble. Where had he gone? All she could do now was wait for him to return and hope he accepted her apology.
Frustrated and needing to put her thoughts elsewhere, she wandered around the room, stopping in front of a tall wooden bookcase. She wondered if Charles was the main reader in the estate, or if his uncle liked to read, too. Izzy ran her finger along the old, cracked spines. Their worn appearance proved some of the books were obvious favorites.
She could picture Charles sitting in this room, leaning against the back of the couch while he perused page after interesting page. From their discussion earlier, he seemed interested in things of the future. He would certainly love certain aspects of
her
time.
Would any of the staff come here to read? She shook her head. Doubtful. From what she'd observed just in her short time here, there was a definite class distinction. Even if their servants were allowed to use the books, would they even have the time? They seemed to wait on the duke's needs all day and into the night, depending on what was required.
A memory of Sarah looking longingly at the day dresses on the bed caused Izzy to stop. Would the maid ever be able to better her lifestyle? Or was she destined to wait on someone else for her entire life? Izzy was more determined than ever to ask Charles about some of the dresses for Sarah. Something about the younger woman tugged at her heart. Did she have family nearby? Were there any close friends, if there was even any time for them?
The door to the den squeaked as someone pushed it open. Izzy gulped a mouthful of air and hurried to the curtains. Just as she pulled them around her, she recognized Sarah's voice.
"My lady, it's I, Sarah. I've brought the refreshments his grace requested. I was told to address you if you were… indisposed and couldn't come to the door."
Izzy peeked around the fabric. Sarah was alone. She let out a breath, trying to calm her fluttering heartbeat. If it had been anyone besides Sarah or Charles, there would've been major trouble.
"Oh, thank you, Sarah." Inwardly she scolded herself. Even though she wanted to express her gratitude, she needed to remember the servants didn't feel comfortable accepting her thanks.
Sarah curtsied, avoiding eye contact as she set the tray of pastries and tea on the low table by the couch. She roamed her gaze around the room, settling back on Izzy.
Izzy left her hiding place and stepped into the room. "Charles isn't here. He went to…"
"It's of no matter, my lady, what his grace has seen fit to do."
"Oh. Yes. Of course." This wasn't going well. They had to be somewhat close in age, but they were worlds apart. Izzy walked to the couch and sat down, mindful of the folds of the day dress she wore. She patted the couch cushion. "Won't you sit with me?"
Sarah widened her eyes, darting a glance toward the door. She lost much of the color in her face. "Oh, my lady, I—"
Izzy sighed. "I know. It's unseemly, or whatever. But there's something I'd like to ask you." She raised her eyebrows and waited. Sarah hesitated, gave another small curtsy and walked with slow steps to the couch. Izzy patted the cushion once more. "It's all right." She glanced down to the couch and back up. "Please."
"Of course, my lady." Sarah sat down carefully, perching on the edge of the furniture. If she sat any closer to the edge, Izzy would be scraping the maid off the floor.
"Sarah, I'd like to know you a little better."
The maid paled even more. "My lady?"
"Don't worry. You won't get in trouble with Charles. I'd just like to know you better, since it looks as if we may be spending some time together while I'm, well, here."
Sarah's hands trembled, but she nodded. "Yes, my lady."
Izzy pointed toward the bookshelf. "Do you like to read?"
Sarah shook her head. "No, my lady."
"Oh."
Sarah's face reddened. "You see, my lady, I c-can't read."
Izzy tilted her head. "What? Everyone should know how to read."
Sarah shrugged. "Wasn't important in my home. And I left so young to come here…"
"No one had the chance to teach you. Right?"
Sarah nodded.
"Well maybe I can fix that."
Sarah's eyes widened. "My lady?"
Izzy patted the maid's hand. "Leave it to me, Sarah. I have lots of experience with the Study Buddy program in my town."
Sarah frowned. "My lady, Study…"
"Never mind." Izzy chuckled.
****
Charles scrunched his face behind his woolen scarf against the whipping cold December wind. Walking his estate had always helped him sort out his worries. At least it used to. Isabella and all she encompassed produced a problem he couldn't solve. Charles wished her to remain here. She wished to leave. They seemed comfortable together, in tune with each other, which seemed odd under their present circumstances, but Isabella had made quite plain her desires. She wanted to return home to America. In the
future.
Grasping that concept was difficult even with the time Charles now had behind him in which to consider it.
He guided his steps past the stables. Horses whinnied to each other, as if in greeting, wishing each other 'Good day.' A smile lifted one side of Charles' mouth. Isabella, with her whimsical view of Kitty, would appreciate that. Charles' smile faltered. He couldn't bring her out here to see the horses or anything else. Not yet. No one, save himself and Sarah, must know of her. And no one must discover she resided in his house, an unmarried, non-chaperoned woman, and a foreigner no less. The
ton
would wag their collective tongues about that, no doubt. No, he must protect Isabella's reputation at all costs.
He walked past the stables, heading back toward the house. As brisk as the temperatures were, his walk would be cut short today. Once near the entrance, he spotted Kitty huddled next to some shrubbery. "What are you doing out here? It's freezing, and even your thick fur won't protect you for long."
Charles scooped up the cat and hurried inside. His walk had shown him at least one truth. He'd been abrupt with Isabella, giving no explanation before leaving her alone in the den. He shook his head and sighed. Not that long ago, he wouldn't have given a thought to someone's feelings who wasn't of his station. Since getting acquainted with Isabella however, his thoughts took a different tack. Why did her opinion of him seem to matter, when no other woman's did?
He kept his brisk pace once inside and carried Kitty to the den where he'd last seen Isabella. Charles knew there were only a couple of places she could be, since she couldn't parade all through the house for anyone to see. Taking Kitty with him had a purpose, one with positive outcomes, he hoped. Maybe if he approached Isabella with the cat while he attempted an apology, she'd be more willing to accept.
He knocked on the door to the den, inching open the wooden door so not to startle her if she were in there. As he peered around the doorframe, he was surprised to see Isabella and Sarah huddled over a book. Isabella's eyes widened, but she seemed to relax when she realized it was he. Sarah, though, gasped, dropped the book, and raced toward him. Charles stepped aside to let her pass. It was all he could do to hold on to Kitty. What in the world was going on?
The door clicked as he eased it closed. He placed a calming hand on the cat, whose tiny heartbeat raced against Charles' shoulder. His animal's reactions had never taken his interest before now, before Isabella, for she would care about something such as that.
He crossed the room and sat next to Isabella. Not sure how to begin his apology, for he wasn't accustomed to giving them often, he handed her the cat. Isabella took Kitty and cuddled the animal on her lap. Once again, Charles envied the feline and her close proximity to Isabella. After he took a deep breath, he plunged ahead.
"Isabella, I owe you an—"
She held up a hand. "No. I think I owe you one."
He widened his eyes. What was this? She felt a need to apologize to
him
? She'd only stated her wishes. It was he who had taken the matter too much to heart. "But—"
Isabella shook her head, causing her beautiful dark tresses to fall forward over her shoulders. His impulse to reach out to touch her hair was nearly overwhelming. "Charles, I shouldn't have said what I did, like I did. It came out all wrong. Yes, I do miss certain things about my life back home, but I also appreciate what you're doing for me, protecting me and making my stay here comfortable and safe." She glanced away. "And, there are certain things about being here which I find…" She angled back toward him, dark eyes large and lovely. "Quite nice."
Charles scooted nearer, but still left a modest space between them. A sigh escaped Charles' mouth as Isabella held out her hand. He glanced down at their hands, now joined, and felt his mouth form into a smile. "Oh, Isabella, I'm so pleased to hear you say that. Even though you don't think an apology from me necessary, I must still give one. I was abrupt, leaving as I did, when all you had done was simply state your preference for your time. And truth be told, I found your reference to such time quite enchanting. Being one who loves to read and study about other worlds and times, it caught me by surprise that such things actually do exist."
"I'm so glad we have that behind us, now."
"I'm relieved as well." He tilted his head. "What was happening with Sarah? She nearly knocked me flat when she ran out of the room."
"Oh." Isabella's face reddened. "You may not like this, but I… I'm teaching Sarah to read." She stared at him. Was she gauging his reply?
"I see." He frowned.
"You're angry, aren't you?"
Was he?
Even a short time ago, he would have been infuriated with someone coming into his home, taking liberties with his servant. Somehow, though, he found it difficult to refuse Isabella anything.
Charles shrugged. "While in the past, I would not have seen the necessity or appropriateness of teaching a servant to read, I…"
Isabella blinked her beautiful eyes. "You, what?"
"It seems, since you have come to stay, I find myself more open to new ideas about my staff and my home." He darted a glance toward Isabella's other hand, which stroked Kitty's fur. "And my cat."
"Thank you for bringing in Henrietta, since I couldn't go
outside
to see her."
He frowned. "Who is this man Henry of whom you speak?" Had another man found out she was here? Was Isabella being courted? Charles clenched his fist.
"
Henrietta
. It's what I'm calling Kitty." She smiled. "Remember, I told you I thought she needed a new name?"
Charles relaxed, flexing his fingers. "But why
Henrietta
?"
"Well I couldn't name her after the queen, now could I?"
Charles felt one side of his mouth lift. "Yes, quite right. The queen might frown on a marmalade feline carrying her royal name. Henrietta it is, then."
Isabella leaned toward Charles ever so slightly. "Since you're being so generous, I have another request to make."
Charles lifted his eyebrows. "Is that so? And what would that be, Isabella?" He bit his lip to hold in a chuckle. At this moment, he felt he could grant her every request.
Isabella fumbled with the lace at her neckline. "Well, you see… I'm so grateful for all you've done for me and given me."
"Go on."
She lowered her gaze. "Would it be too much to ask, since you've bought so many dresses and things for me to wear, to give some of the day dresses to… Sarah?"
Charles widened his eyes. Not because he was opposed to the idea, simply that the woman sitting next to him had such a generous heart. In the past, yes, he would have thought it inappropriate, but seeing things through Isabella's eyes had changed his view. Of everything. How had it happened so quickly? Who was this man he was now becoming?
She glanced down at her lap. "You think it's a terrible idea, don't you?"
"On the contrary, Isabella, I think you are a most endearing, thoughtful creature."
"You do?" Her eyes lit up like a full moon on a dark winter's eve.
"Yes. I do. I have no problem with giving some new things to Sarah. She's the trust-worthiest servant I've ever encountered."
Isabella ruffled Henrietta's fur with her free hand. It would take awhile for Charles to think of the animal having a different name. Henrietta rumbled out a loud purr.
Isabella glanced up. "I know you said you were giving Sarah some money for helping us, so I didn't know if you would still mind about the clothes."
Charles sighed. "Even though I have promised her extra money for her silence about you, I already know none of it will be used for her pleasure. It will all go to her parents."
"But why? You're giving it to
her
?"
He shrugged. "It's just how it is, Isabella. Sometimes children are expected to give their earnings to their families if they are poor."
She scooted closer, jostling Henrietta, who produced a harrumph. "But if you give her some of the dresses, those would be for her alone?"
"Yes."
Isabella smiled. Such beauty surely didn't exist on this earth. For the angels had given her a glorious glow that now emanated from her face. How fortunate for him something or someone made it possible for her to arrive at his home during his time. His heart gave a small lurch. Although, it seemed not meant to last, as Isabella was determined to return to her home. He squeezed her hand before releasing it.
Charles stood and gave a slight bow. "Lady Isabella, may I have the pleasure of this dance?"
She peered up at him with raised eyebrows. "Dance?"
He gestured behind him, trying to suppress a grin. "Surely you hear the music, my lady?" Holding his hand to his ear in a dramatic posture, his eyes peered heavenward.
She set Henrietta on the floor. Standing as well, she executed a fairly good curtsy. "Certainly, your grace." Isabella held out her hands and he took her in his arms.