“Understood,” Izzy responded. She could feel the walls of the house closing in around her.
“Children,” Albert continued, glancing up for the first time, his green eyes probing, “are expected promptly.”
Izzy nodded, her throat tight as she acknowledged the demand. She had thought to ask him to postpone the wedding night, but it was apparent that wasn’t going to happen. “Is there anything else you require from me?” Izzy asked.
“Simply your compliance,” he replied. There was no malice in his voice, only the cold clarity of a man who viewed his new wife as part of his empire.
“Then you shall have it,” Izzy said, her words clipped, yet her gaze unwavering. She would carve out a place for herself.
“Very well.” Albert folded the document with a crisp snap, signaling the end of their negotiation. As he rose, he extended a hand toward her—not in comfort, but as a formality, a conclusion to their bargain.
“Welcome to our partnership, Mrs. Thoreau,” he said, and Izzy accepted his hand.
“Thank you, Mr. Thoreau,” she replied, her fingers brushing against his palm briefly before withdrawing. It felt odd to be so formal with her husband, but it seemed to be what he desired.
As Albert exited the room, leaving her alone amid the opulence, Izzy allowed herself a single, shuddering breath. She rose from the armchair, her every step a quiet declaration of her intent to endure, to adapt, to survive.
Izzy’s heels clicked against the polished floors of the grand foyer as she trailed behind Albert.
“Every worthwhile venture in town bears my mark. The lumber mill, the general store, even the saloon—they all feed into the Thoreau legacy,” he said, a hint of pride lacing his tone.
“Quite the empire,” Izzy murmured, her gaze drifting toward the window where the town lay spread out beneath them.
“Yes, it is,” he replied, oblivious to the churn of her thoughts. “And I expect you to uphold my reputation. A Thoreau wife must be beyond reproach.”
His words were cold and factual. Izzy felt the tightening grip of the golden cage, its bars invisible yet unyielding.
“Of course, Mr. Thoreau,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil that brewed within her.
As Albert left the house, Izzy kept exploring. She finally found the kitchen and spotted a woman there, stirring a pot of something on the stove. “Hello. I’m Izzy,” she said softly.
“Mrs. Thoreau. Welcome. I’m the housekeeper here. My name is Martha Kirkland.” Martha had gray hair and looked to be around her parents’ age. She was thick around the middle and had a kind look about her.
Izzy smiled, taking an apron off a hook on the wall. “What can I do to help with supper?”
Martha’s eyes widened. “Absolutely nothing. It’s my job to cook, and it’s your job to tell me what to cook.”
Izzy shook her head. “I can’t. I don’t have any idea what to tell anyone to cook. I’m afraid I was raised in a household where I only saw my sisters and my parents every day. I need to learn what people do.”
Martha smiled. “I understand. I’ll teach you as much as I can. Did you mention to Mr. Thoreau that you don’t know how to manage a household?”
Izzy shook her head. “No, I didn’t, and I would prefer he not know that I’m lacking in that area.”
“Then we’ll start your lessons now, while he’s out of the house.” Martha smiled sweetly. “There’s so much to teach you, and I can’t wait to get started. There are no dinner parties for more than a week, so there’s time.” Martha looked at Izzy’s dress. “You’ll need new clothes.”
Izzy nodded. “I can make myself a new dress.”
Martha laughed softly. “Oh, honey. You need at least a dozen new dresses. Make one for yourself but let me get a dressmaker in here Monday morning to meet with you.”
“That would help me a great deal!” Izzy said, smiling. “I’m glad I found you.”
“Well, I’m old enough to be your mother, so if you don’t mind, I’ll treat you like I would treat a daughter.”
“Nothing could make me happier.” Izzy was thrilled that Martha seemed to understand all she needed to learn. Thank heavens. Disappointing Albert was not something she wanted to do.
