“I apologize for offering my thoughts, my lady. I know they weren’t what you wanted to hear.” Beatrice set the tray down, walked to the bedside, picked up her mistress’s hand, and squeezed it gently.
“Beatrice, he is everything I could want in a husband, but I cannot marry him. How do I get out of this?” Isabelle said with a sob. “I’m so confused.” She rolled over and faced her maid. “I cannot be a duchess. Why can’t I marry the baker’s son?”
Her maid chortled. “First, the Crustins only have daughters. And second . . . you are affianced to the duke—and a very handsome man, that one!”
“And kind. That’s what makes it so difficult. How can I marry a man and be a duchess when I get sick when I am in crowded situations? I’ll be expected to throw parties, entertain, and attend ton events. You know I cannot handle the congested settings. I panic and cannot breathe,” Isabelle sobbed. She felt ashamed of how petty her concern sounded when she said it out loud.
“Have you spoken to your father about this, my lady?” Beatrice asked, empathetically.
“Father believes there is nothing wrong with me. He says it is my way of getting out of Society events and feels I should thank him for his foresight. He was no help at all with Daniel. How can it be that I should face this twice?”
“Perhaps you should speak to your mama,” Beatrice suggested. “Your mother has always believed you. I believe she understands your nervousness.”
“It is such a conundrum because I enjoy being with him. He makes me feel important, as if I am the only person in the world. When we talk, my opinions matter, and we don’t talk about the weather,” Isabelle mused, remembering how the mere touch of his hand on hers sent a rush of warmth to her center—something she wasn’t used to feeling.
Beatrice smiled. “That sounds like a problem.”
Isabelle sighed and hung her head, feeling defeated.
Chase stood and removed himself to the bottom of the bed, turning around several times before finally settling down and closing his eyes.
“Perhaps Chase is right. I cannot lay here all day.” Isabelle sat up and reached over to her dog, scratching him behind the ears. “You had an adventurous day yesterday, my little man.”
Beatrice laughed. “You and that dog have a level of communication that surpasses understanding. He came home looking like he bathed in a mud pile. And now, you feel he has told you to get on with your life.”
“That’s because he did. He cannot speak, but his gestures are quite brilliant, I think. Like the mud yesterday—he felt a need to show it to us and led us to it,” Isabelle replied with a laugh.
Beatrice glanced at the sleeping dog. “Perhaps there was more to it, and you didn’t catch his meaning. Peter told the cook that a horse was stabled in muddy condition. The stable hands couldn’t figure out how it happened, considering your horse and the one Peter used were the only horses taken out.”
“Something must have been overlooked. That makes no sense,” Isabelle said, slipping her feet into her slippers and sliding her arms into the robe her maid held open for her. She would find Peter and see what he knew. “How could someone get into our stables and ride a horse without the stable hands knowing?”
“Peter suggested to Cook that someone needs to remain in the stable during mealtimes. He thinks that could explain it,” Beatrice said.
“It’s a little frightening. I won’t pretend otherwise, but surely, they will uncover what happened. We should not speak further of it without knowing all the facts.” An involuntary shudder coursed through her, and for a moment, she thought she would start reacting to this news like she did when faced with a crowded situation. Purposely, she inhaled and exhaled slowly, keeping her breath shallow so Beatrice wouldn’t notice. “If you can finish my hair, I will speak with mother in the parlor before His Grace arrives.”
“Yes, my lady,” the maid said, twisting her hair into several braids and weaving them intricately around each other into a shiny gold crown. The maid applied blue sapphires to match her dress and held up the mirror.
“It looks beautiful, my lady.”
Isabelle took the looking glass and held it behind her head, aimed at her hair and her vanity’s glass so she could admire Beatrice’s work. No need. It was perfection, as usual. “Thank you, Beatrice. It looks lovely.”
* * *
Michael made quick work of getting dressed and was surprised to meet his mother and sister in the drawing room. “What are you both doing up so early?” he asked, as he filled his plate with eggs, rashers, bread, and plum pudding from the sideboard. “Are you planning to go to town today, Anna?”
“Mother and I had planned to visit the modiste. We ordered new gowns for the Christmastide celebrations, and Madame Tapiere sent word she was ready for a last fitting. And then, we plan to join several women at Lady McAllister’s filling baskets with gifts for the church staff.”
“That’s a busy day,” he said, pulling out a chair and sitting at the head of the table, pleased his mother was organizing their Christmastide. He had never asked what that entailed of him and knew very little beyond what he had seen his father do.
“And what, dear son, do you plan for today?” his mother asked, with a knowing glimmer in her eyes.
“Before you get all worked up, I’m running some errands in town. The ring and bracelet I had commissioned have arrived from London. And I’ll be picking up some other things,” he said, giving his sister a knowing wink.
“You don’t have to get us anything for the holiday, darling,” his mother said, buttering her brioche.
“Yes, you say that every year, Mother, but Iwantto get you a present. So please be a good dear and not try to spoil it for me,” he said in a teasing tone to his mother.
She protested, but he and his sister cut her off with a light-hearted chuckle. “Celebrating Christmastide has always been a tremendous source of comfort for our family. I don’t plan to change a thing, Mother.” He also had some other errands to take care of—namely, meeting with the stable hands at Isabelle’s barn. His footman, Oliver, had told him about the horse when he returned home, and Michael wanted to know more. He and Oliver planned a quick trip to the gamekeeper’s cottage. Then, he would pick up his intended and take her shopping, as he had promised—something he very much looked forward to doing.
