Helen grinned. “I am very happy that you have found such joy,” she said. “We all are, truly. In fact, the girls were wondering if we would all be invited to the wedding.”
Mira went to her and took her hand. “It would not be the same without you,” she said. “Especially you, Helen. And Davina, too. You were kind and supportive from the moment you found out, no matter what Astoria said or did. I shall never forget that. You are true friends.”
Helen put her arms around Mira, giving her a hug. It was a sweet moment between them, and a friendship that had endureda great deal as of late. But Davina and Primrose interrupted because Primrose wanted Mira to hear the poem she had written, so the girls gathered around, embracing one another, smiling and listening attentively to Primrose’s poem of a garden of flowers that talked to one another and magically danced with the fairies at midnight. It was meant to be sweet and humorous, and there was a good deal of laughing going on.
There was joy and friendship once again.
And that was how Isabel found them.
“Ah,” she said as she entered the solar. “I see that we are all a happy family again.”
The young women turned to Isabel in surprise. “My lady,” Mira said, releasing Helen and going to her. “I was told you were sleeping. Were you disturbed?”
Isabel shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “I found that I simply could not sleep, so I came to see to my young wards. What were you listening to?”
Mira pointed to Primrose. “Primmy has written a wonderful poem,” she said. “Would you like to hear it?”
Isabel nodded. “Indeed, I would,” she said. “You may continue, Primmy.”
Primrose was always intimidated by Isabel, so her voice quivered a little as she recited her poem about the magic flowers. When she was finished, Isabel clapped politely, praising her imagination and critiquing it ever so slightly. As stern as Isabel could be, she was usually quite supportive when it came to the creative endeavors because she wanted to encourage them.
On the heels of Primrose’s poem, Theodora was convinced she had one that was just as good, about a fox and a dog who became friends. Isabel took her usual chair in the chamber, but she took Mira by the hand as she sat down. She simply sat there, holding Mira’s hand as Theodora spoke of the fox and the dog who were enemies and then friends. Mira glanced downat Isabel more than once, smiling at the woman, who smiled in return. Perhaps there were unspoken apologies in those gestures for the turn the night had taken, for the struggle Mira had gone through, and smiles of gratitude that she had emerged without serious damage.
Of course, Mira couldn’t have known that Isabel was holding her hand for a deeper reason. She knew that the young woman had murdered a man in self-defense. She held her hand because of the terror Mira had felt, a silent gesture of solidarity and support. A gesture of relief because the night could have so easily have gone differently. It could have been Mira wrapped up in a shroud, stored in the very vault she had been killed in. So many things could have been different.
But they weren’t.
And Isabel was grateful.
Primrose and Theodora’s poems led to more recitations from Ines and Marceline, and finally Davina, who was very good at it. Poem writing and recitation was something all young women needed to learn and perfect, something Isabel considered a great virtue. It signified elegance and education. Looking around the chamber, she couldn’t have been more grateful that life at Axminster had settled back down again. No matter if she’d had to sell her soul to do it, there was peace.
And would be for a very long time, if she had anything to say about it.
“Lady Isabel?”
A servant had slipped in unnoticed and now stood at Isabel’s right elbow. She glanced up to see one of the kitchen servants who had been at Axminster since the time of Isabel’s mother.
“What is it, Bets?” she asked.
The servant was older, with a rosy, shiny face and no eyebrows. She bent over to whisper to her mistress.
“Lord de Honiton has asked that we make special dishes tonight since he is to be our new lord,” she said. “He wishes to have fish and fowl, and eels from Axmouth. He has instructed that someone go to the port to buy them. Shall we do this, my lady?”
Isabel looked at the woman as if she’d gone mad. “He said…Whatdid he say?”
The kitchen servant was well acquainted with Lady Isabel’s temper and it was a struggle not to cower. “He said that he is to be our new lord and—”
Isabel was out of her chair, her hand silencing the rest of the servant’s explanation. “That is enough,” she said. “Nay, we will not buy eels in Axmouth. What did the cook have planned for supper this evening?”
“The rest of the beef, my lady.”
“Then what is what we shall have,” Isabel said, storming off toward the solar door. “Whereis Lord de Honiton now? Did he actually come to the kitchens?”
“Nay, my lady,” the old woman said fearfully. “He sent a servant.”
“Then he must be somewhere on the grounds,” Isabel said. “I will find him, and when I do, he will not go around telling anyone he is to be the Lord of Axminster again!”
She stomped out. Mira, who had still been standing next to the chair, watched the woman go with concern.
