‘Poor lamb,’ Eliza whispered, hovering in the doorway. ‘She’s had all of the confidence taken from her. You could feel her sadness and bewilderment from the moment she walked in through the door. She doesn’t know who she is anymore.’
Isaac gently pulled at her sleeve.
‘Don’t get any closer, Eliza. You might wake her, and she needs her sleep.’
‘I want to give her a blessing,’ Eliza said, firmly removing his hand and drifting forwards into the room. ‘A blessing will help her to sleep more sweetly.’
Ignoring the protest which she knew was about to emerge from Isaac’s lips, she tiptoed across the carpet and stood by the bed, looking down at Jules.
‘Everything is going to be all right, my dear,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t give up hope. You are here for a reason. We’re watching over you, protecting you. The house is helping you to heal, and sleep is one of the best healers of all.’
Eliza reached out her hand.
‘Eliza, no!’ Isaac called.
In an instant he was by her side, his arm around her waist, guiding her back out of the room.
‘You were going to touch her, weren’t you?’
‘Only her hair,’ Eliza said, resisting him as he began to lead her down the stairs, ‘and only very gently. She wouldn’t have felt anything.’
She gazed back over her shoulder.
‘Her hair is dark blonde, but have you noticed, Isaac, that in some lights it contains some strands of auburn?’
She hesitated, wondered whether to continue. She had never felt like this before that she could remember, never had to hold her words or feelings back from him. It made her feel unlike herself.
‘It reminds me of…’
Isaac propelled her towards the stairs. Halfway down she turned to place her hands against his chest. Shewouldsay what was needed.
‘You didn’t let me finish my sentence, Isaac. It’s almost the same colour as the lock of hair in that little box.’
‘The box?’ Isaac asked.
Eliza felt a frisson of irritation. He couldn’t possibly have forgotten so why would he pretend to have done so?
‘The wooden box beneath the floorboards. The tea caddy that Carrie found.’
‘Oh, that box.’
She tried to look at him directly, but he had turned his head away so that she could only see the strong, determined line of his jaw, his aquiline nose and high forehead. Eliza felt her resolve deepen. She took Isaac’s face between her hands and twisted it towards her.
‘I feel as if that box means something, Isaac.’
An obstinate silence. He couldn’t have made his unwillingness to participate in this line of conversation more obvious, Eliza thought.
‘Is there something you’re not telling me? Something that I need to know?’
He removed her hands from his face and took hold of one firmly. He tugged her down the remaining steps with rather more force than she thought necessary before halting at the bottom. The scent of roses from the vase on the table filled the hall. She had planted many roses in the garden when they lived here. When she was not well Isaac would pick one and place it in a little cut-glass vase on her breakfast tray. The vase had been a wedding present from one of her brothers, the only gift they had received from either of their families. Isaac would position it on her bedside table, and its beauty would sustain her during the long weeks of her recovery. Consumption, he had said, and he had nearly lost her, but she had little memory of that time or indeed the months that followed.
‘How many times do I have to tell you? There’s nothing, absolutely nothing, Eliza, that you need to know.’
She should believe him. That’s what a good, loyal, trusting wife did. She had never had cause to doubt him before, but now… He was still full of love for her. She could see that.
‘There are no secrets between us?’
‘Oh, Eliza,’ he sighed and leaned forwards to kiss her softly on the lips. ‘You know that you mean everything to me. We are as one. Always have been and always will be.’
