Violet looked up from Millicent, as though the pause itself were an event.
Isadora laughed. It came out soft and genuine, as if caught off guard by her own amusement. She pressed one hand briefly to her mouth and looked at the baby, who was staring at her intently.
“You are watching me very carefully,” she noted.
Violet made a sound.
“Yes. I’m watching you too.” Isadora leaned forward slightly, bringing her face a little closer. “The answer is that Princess Eleanor does not entirely know what she’s looking for yet, which is either the most frightening thing or the most interesting thing depending on how you think about it.” She tilted her head. “I am still deciding.”
Violet reached out and grabbed her sleeve.
“Ah,” Isadora said. “You have something to say.”
The baby tightened her grip and babbled a string of syllables with the confident cadence of someone making an excellent point.
“You make a compelling argument,” Isadora said gravely. “I’ll consider it.”
She lifted Violet into her lap, settling the baby against her with the ease that had developed over the past weeks without her noticing it, and picked up Archibald from the blanket.
“Now, where were we?” she asked. “Ah, yes. The forest. Princess Eleanor. Millicent the rabbit with the excellent ears.” She walked Archibald through the air in front of Violet’s face. “They rode for quite a long time, and the forest was very beautiful, because the best forests always are. Princess Eleanor began to feel… not better, exactly. Something more complicated than better.” She paused. “She began to feel that things might become better eventually, which is a different feeling but not a smaller one.”
Violet grabbed Archibald mid-air.
“Caught,” Isadora laughed. “Archibald has been captured. This is a significant development.”
* * *
James almost didn’t go in.
He had meant to. He had come upstairs with the intention of saying something. He had not worked out exactly what—perhaps an acknowledgment that the afternoon had not gone as intended, that he had produced a list that Henderson had helped him prepare, which, in retrospect, he could see was not thecorrect approach to the first afternoon of a marriage, however practical it was.
He had stood outside the nursery door with his hand poised to knock and heard her voice inside.
He had not knocked. Instead, he had pushed the door open very quietly and stayed where he was.
The maid near the window had noticed him, her mouth dropping open in anO. He put one finger to his lips, and she immediately returned to her folding.
He looked at Isadora.
She was sitting in the chair by the shelf with Violet in her lap, entirely unaware of him. Her hair had come loose on one side—it always did when she was too occupied by whatever she was doing—soft strands brushing against her cheek.
She had a small carved horse in one hand and was walking it through the air while Violet made a grab for it with both hands, and she was saying something about a forest. She looked…
He stood in the doorway, racking his brain for the right words.
She looked entirely herself. Unguarded and warm and quietly delighted by a baby who had just snatched a wooden horse out of the air and was holding it up like a trophy.
“Caught,” Isadora laughed softly, her face lighting up. “Archibald has been captured. This is a significant development.”
Violet made a triumphant sound.
“Do not be smug about it,” Isadora chided playfully. “It does not suit you.” She looked at the horse in the baby’s hands. “Although I’ll admit the execution was impressive. You had good timing.”
Violet looked at her with rapt attention.
“Now,” Isadora said, lifting the small rabbit from the blanket. “Millicent has an opinion about this turn of events?—”
“Does Millicent always have opinions?”
