Leaving a generous space for her undergarments and personal effects, Isabella haphazardly stuffed whatever old and new gowns would fit inside the case. She stacked the remaining dresses in four neat piles, knowing that Fran, Maggie, Penny, and Molly would be speechless at the thought of owning such expensive, fashionable clothes. It seemed fitting somehow that the four young maids should wear these lovely garments. She would receive great satisfaction presenting the gowns herself to each girl before she left.
Before she left! Isabella’s heart turned to stone as the words echoed in her mind. Whatley Grange was the home she had always longed for, and she loathed having to leave. Here she had found peace and contentment. Here she had loved—the children who were so fiercely independent, and their father who defied ordinary convention.
Yet it was because of that very love that she was leaving. At all costs, she must prevent her brother from creating a horrible scandal or, far worse, have Damien prosecuted for a crime Isabella knew he could never have committed. She feared for more than Damien’s reputation if Lord Poole succeeded in exacting his revenge. She felt certain he would contrive to have a charge of murder brought against the earl. In a community that already believed an outrageous assortment of lies about Damien’s behavior, Isabella doubted he would be treated to impartial justice.
Lord Poole’s mercurial moods yesterday afternoon also troubled Isabella. He had gone from rage to grief to manipulation all in the space of a few short hours. It would be necessary to tread delicately over the next few days so as not to set him off again.
Isabella chafed at the notion of being under Lord Poole’s control, especially now that she had seen his darker side. Yet his grief for Emmeline had been so genuine, his love and loyalty for his sister so extreme, Isabella held out some hope for the future. He was acting in what he believed was her best interest. Perhaps in time his possessive attitude would lessen.
It was an impossible dream to hope that she could one day return to Damien and The Grange, but perhaps Thomas might eventually be persuaded to give her a small allowance that would enable her to live independently.
As she faced her uncertain future, Isabella knew that by far the most difficult adjustment would be losing Damien. The earl had not renewed his offer of marriage since his return from visiting her grandfather in the north. Perhaps it was a blessing that Damien had not spoken again of his intentions.
In light of the current circumstances, an alliance between them was a total impossibility. Lord Poole would never allow it. And surely her heart would break if she were forced to decline his offer yet again. For this time, given the freedom of choice, she would follow where love lead her. She would marry Damien. Gladly.
Jenkins arrived to take her baggage.
“The rest of the household has finished breakfast. Mrs. Amberly wants to know if she should continue holding the morning meal for you.”
“I couldn’t possible swallow a morsel.” Isabella’s already queasy stomach revolted at the thought of food. She grinned timidly at Jenkins. “Especially one of Mrs. Amberly’s dishes. I remembered that the new cook is taking this morning off, which means she is once again preparing the household meals.”
“Very well.” Jenkins didn’t even crack at smile. “Lord Poole’s coachman is awaiting your luggage, Miss Browning. Is it ready?”
The censure and disappointment in the valet’s tone caught Isabella by surprise. From the beginning, he had been Isabella’s friend and supporter, her staunchest ally. It hurt deeply to hear his blatant disapproval.
“I would stay at Whatley Grange if it were possible, Mr. Jenkins.”
“Your actions speak otherwise,” Jenkins replied coldly, his mouth curled in disgust.
“You judge me unfairly,” Isabella said quietly. She looked at him with wide, remorseful eyes. “I leave only because Lord Poole demands it. He is a wealthy, influential man, and his current thirst for vengeance makes him very dangerous indeed.”
“Have you so little faith in Damien?”
“I have every faith in the earl. ’Tis the neighboring nobility who lack judgment and honor. I could not stand idly by and allow my brother to place Damien in such an untenable position. In my heart I have wavered constantly over this decision, yet I sincerely believe that this course of action, while painful, is the only way to ensure Damien’s safety.”
“I still think you are making a grave mistake,” Jenkins said, but his voice was less harsh.
“I have no choice,” Isabella insisted with true remorse. Yet she was relieved the valet’s hostility had lessened. Her departure was going to be difficult enough without adding a heavy dose of guilt.
Isabella swallowed back her emotions, knowing she would never be able to make any coherent farewells if she did not gain some measure of control over her regrets.
“My luggage is ready. You may bring it downstairs at your convenience,” Isabella said. She gathered the large assortment of gowns she had left on the bed in her arms. “I’m going to take these gowns upstairs. Maggie should be there with the baby. I ... I need to say good-bye.”
“The others—Fran, Molly, and Penny—are waiting outside to speak with you. Will you see them first?”
“Of course.”
Isabella placed the gowns for Maggie in a chair and brought out the dresses she had saved for the other maids. The girls were clearly grateful for the extravagant gift but markedly upset over Isabella’s departure. Teary-eyed, they left her bedchamber just as Jenkins reappeared to carry the luggage down to the traveling coach.
“Has the earl returned to The Grange, Jenkins?” Isabella inquired, asking the question she feared most.
The valet’s expression softened slightly. “Damien and the children await you in the front salon.”
Isabella nodded her head in acknowledgment, not trusting her voice. When Jenkins had departed, she struggled up the narrow staircase with the bundle of clothes for Maggie.
Maggie’s delight and excitement over the beautiful gowns quickly changed to sadness when Isabella said her final good-bye. Maggie hugged her tightly and sniffled loudly.
“Fred and I are so very grateful for everything you’ve done for us and the baby. I don’t know how we’ll get on without you. Catherine and Ian will miss you so much. And so will I. And Fran and Penny and Molly. Goodness, everyone will miss you.”
