Chapter 16
Isabel strolled arm-in-arm with Eva, the mellow dawn sun peering through an elegant willow ahead, and could hardly countenance how she’d arrived here.
One moment, she was struggling through a night’s sleep that succeeded in being both sated and fitful. The next, Eva was shaking her awake and shushing away Isabel’s concern that yet again life had gone horribly awry and they had to run. But, no, all Eva wanted was an early morning walk before the day’s heat was upon them.
It hadn’t been in Isabel to refuse, for she detected traces of the old Eva in the Eva standing before her. That Eva who was always on the lookout for a new adventure, the one from before Montfort had knocked on her family’s door and kicked their world sideways.
Now, boots wet with dew, they strolled beside the pond, light mist floating above as sun rays peeked through and scattered muted light. Eva squeezed Isabel close. “What a magical place. ’Tis quite a splendid family you’ve married into,querida.”
A note of discord disturbed Isabel’s sense of rightness, reminding her that she and Eva weren’t in thebefore. “You know that isn’t the fact of the matter.”
“Ah, but that’s the fiction of it.” A cold smile curved about Eva’s mouth. “And your present reality.”
Isabel couldn’t deny that particular truth. But since Eva had opened the door, Isabel thought she may as well step through it, for she wished to discuss a related matter. “You seem to have taken a decided interest in my”—oh, what strange reality had her uttering the next word—“husband’sfamily.”
A degree of warmth entered Eva’s smile. “The Misses Bretagne and Radclyffe are splendid girls. They are well on their way toward becoming diamonds of the first water, wouldn’t you agree?”
Isabel nodded. She had no doubt of it.
“When we return to London, I would like to ask them to pose for sketches in a few of my original creations.”
“They are the daughters of aristocrats,” Isabel pointed out, gently. Eva’s ambitions could get away from her at times. “I’m not sure that is done.”
Eva flicked a stray stonefly off her sleeve. “Surely, my logical sister with a mind for trade can see how such exposure would benefit us.”
“I doubt you would be able to sew fast enough to keep up with demand.” It wasn’t the youthful branch of the estate’s guests that Isabel wanted to discuss, however. “And how about Lady Bertrand Montfort? You do seem to be devoting considerable attention toher.”
What little warmth had entered Eva’s smile, cooled in an instant. “Such a delightful woman,” she all but spat.
“She’s the wife of Montfort.”
“Her name does make that fact rather obvious,querida. Your point?”
“Such a friendship,” Isabel pressed, “isn’t the wisest—”
“Speaking of wisdom!” Eva exclaimed. “Have you heard the pearls that drip from Lady Bertrand’s mouth? Sometimes, their effect is such that I just want to slap her face.”
Isabel pulled Eva to a stop and met her sister dead in the eye. “That is something you simply can never do.” This was the Eva, the one who had become wild and unknowable, who Isabel feared. “Never.”
A spark of rebellion flashed in Eva’s eye and was gone in an instant, replaced by a careful flatness. “So serious,querida, I spoke figuratively, of course. Come and continue our little stroll.” She pulled Isabel’s arm, tugging her forward. “Enjoy the cool nip in the air before the heat presses down on us. Do you know I feel more myself with every minute I spend here? I sincerely thank you for bringing me along on your impromptu honeymoon. We all needed a little break from London. I mean, look at you.”
“Me?”
“Oh, yes, the estate has certainly worked its magic on you.”
“Oh?” A certainty entered Isabel’s mind that she wouldn’t like the direction Eva was leading their talk. While she’d experienced a momentary fear that Eva had again procured laudanum, this conversation put that anxiety to rest. Eva might be altered in many ways from the carefree person she’d once been, but her sense of mischief had returned. A good sign, even if Isabel was on the receiving end of it.
“This morning, you have a . . . a”—Eva’s eyes screwed up to the sky, as if she was searching for the perfect word—“glow. In truth, I’ve never seen you so radiant.”
Isabel cut Eva a sharp glance and pressed her mouth into a firm line. For her part, Eva kept her gaze trained on the trail before them, the picture of innocence.
“That said,” Eva continued, “I have detected but one botheration with our paradise found.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Rosebud Cottage has a ghost.”
“Eva, you don’t believe in such gothic silliness,” Isabel dismissed.
“’Tis true, I didn’t. Until”—Eva allowed a dramatic tick of time to pass—“last night.”
Sudden sweat slicked Isabel’s palms. “Last night?”
