The little boy moved toward the painting. His expression was unreadable as he stared at the beautiful woman on the canvas.
Unable to hide her curiosity, Isabella also stepped toward the portrait, exceedingly interested in viewing the likeness of the woman she was suppose to so closely resemble.
“It smells funny,” Ian said, wrinkling his nose.
Isabella bent her head and caught a heady wiff of brandy. How odd. Ignoring the strong scent of spirits, she squinted in the dim hallway and stared in amazement at the stunning, vibrant woman painted on the canvas. Isabella felt a strange twisting in her stomach.
Isabella acknowledged there was a faint, distant resemblance between herself and the woman in the portrait, especially the shape and color of the eyes, but in Isabella’s opinion that was the extent of the similarity. How could the earl possibly have mistaken her for this exciting, beautiful creature? He must have been very drunk indeed to believe she was the enchanting Emmeline.
“Your mother was a very beautiful and elegant lady, children,” Isabella remarked, still not believing the earl had mistaken her for this woman.
“Yes, she was pretty,” Catherine agreed nonchalantly. Continuing in the same tone, she added, “but she was also a meddlesome, disloyal, spoiled little bitch.”
“Catherine!” Isabella admonished in her sternnest voice. “What a positively horrible thing to say. And about your own mother. You must never, never again speak of your mother or anyone else in such a disgraceful, ill-bred manner.”
The little girl raised confused eyes toward Isabella, obviously not understanding why her governess was so angry. “That is what father says about her, Miss Browning.”
Isabella bit her lip hard to prevent herself from shouting at the child. “I am certain you have misunderstood your father’s remarks, Catherine,” Isabella insisted, yet she suspected the little girl had most likely repeated precisely what the earl had said. “In future, you will not repeat such malicious words.”
“All right,” Catherine agreed, with a shrug of her shoulders.
The incident momentarily forgotten, the trio proceeded to the kitchens. They managed to reach their destination without further incident. Mrs. Amberly was rocking comfortable in a wooden chair by the fire, while two young maids were washing and drying the breakfast pots and dishes.
“We found the schoolroom, Mrs. Amberly,” Ian told the housekeeper in an excited voice. “ ’Tis up on the top floor. Father used it when he was a little boy.”
“We found a large box of soldiers, too,” Catherine added importantly. “Miss Browning said we may give them all a proper bath.”
“Sounds as though you children have had a busy morning,” Mrs. Amberly remarked. “I’ve missed you. Come and sit by the fire and tell me all about it.” She turned her attention away from the children and regarded Isabella with narrow eyes. “Was there something you wanted, Miss Browning?”
Isabella refused to be intimidated, deliberately ignoring the uncomfortable tension. For some reason the housekeeper had taken an instant and rather strong dislike to her. Isabella was determined to answer her hostility with a civil, polite voice, no matter how much she was provoked.
“The children and I will need rags, soap, and water to begin our cleanup of the schoolroom,” Isabella instructed, knowing there would be no servants to do the work. “And any members of the household staff that can be spared to assist us would be appreciated.”
Mrs. Amberly stood up, stiffening her spine. “Penny and Molly are cleaning the earl’s bedchamber. And as you plainly can see, Maggie and Fran are still busy with the breakfast dishes.”
“Fran and I are nearly done, Mrs. Amberly,” Maggie volunteered. “We can come upstairs as soon as we put away the last of the china.”
“I for one would certainly be grateful for your help, Maggie,” Isabella answered the maid. She turned to the housekeeper and added, “I assume you will be joining us, Mrs. Amberly? I am sure the earl would prefer his children to have their lessons in a clean environment, rather than a dirty, dusty schoolroom.”
Mrs. Amberly fairly bristled under Isabella’s criticism. “If the schoolroom isn’t a fit place for the children to be, then they should stay here in the kitchen with me, like they always do.”
“Catherine and Ian are under my care now, Mrs. Amberly,” Isabella replied firmly, realizing the housekeeper had just revealed the cause of her underlying hostility. Isabella felt a pang of sympathy for the housekeeper, but she had no intention of allowing her position to be undermined. The sooner Mrs. Amberly accepted her presence and her authority over the children, the better for the entire household. “The children and I will be spending a great deal of time in the schoolroom.”
Isabella’s calm statement of authority increased Mrs. Amberly’s anger, and she rose from the chair in mounting emotion. The inevitable clash of wills between the two women was momentarily diverted by Fran. The young maid stepped forward, carrying two large buckets, each brimming with sudsy water.
“I’d be glad to bring these up to the schoolroom if you’d like. May I go now, Mrs. Amberly?” Fran asked.
There were several tense minutes of silence while everyone awaited the housekeeper’s reply. After casting Isabella another scalding look, Mrs. Amberly finally agreed with a curt nod of her head. Isabella tactfully decided not to pursue the matter further. She turned to Fran to express her gratitude, and her eyes widened in surprise.
Fran was a country lass, a tall girl with a large, sturdy frame. She was pretty, in a robust, fresh way and she held the heavy buckets of water easily, with no apparent discomfort. Yet even Fran’s wide hips could not conceal the fact that she, like Maggie, was in an advanced stage of pregnancy.
Chapter Eight
With a conscious effort, Isabella retained her control. There was no cause to panic or overreact, she insisted to herself, just because Lady Edson’s gossip about two of the maids at Whatley Grange being pregnant had proved true. It could be nothing more than a bizarre coincidence, couldn’t it?
Firmly relegating the incident to the back of her mind, Isabella stepped forward and relieved Fran of one of the heavy buckets of water she carried.
“Would you be kind enough to lead the way to the schoolroom, children?” Isabella requested in a voice that sounded strained to her own ears.
