Father rubbed his forehead, seemingly tired.
Isabella leant against the wall, not wanting to ruin Helen’s moment of happiness. It was too soon to order a gown, in her opinion. Anthony hadn’t seemed eager to make a decision. But then again, what did she know about dukes?
* * *
It took Isabella two days,between the carriage and the train, to arrive home, and the more she heard talking about wedding preparations, the more she wanted to scream.
In the two days of the journey, Mother and Helen had planned the engagement party, the wedding reception, the honeymoon, and the birthday party of Helen and Anthony’s first-born. Had it been another day of travelling, they would have even planned the heir’s graduation ceremony.
As she entered her house and removed her hat, she wondered why she was so bitter. Helen was happy. Mother was happy. Father was sort of happy. Isabella should share their happiness. Instead, her mood was as gloomy as London’s sky.
“My lady.” The maid took her coat. “While you were away, the parcel from Guatemala arrived and?—”
“The orchids!” She didn’t wait for the maid to finish and raced down the corridor to the conservatory.
The fatigue of the last days was gone by the time she barged into the glasshouse.
“Where are they?” She gazed around.
The gardener should have planted them. She beamed when she found the series of pots with the small plants in them.
“Are they?—”
Her heart took a dip to her stomach. The seedlings were wilted. A couple were etiolated—yellow and drawn out—but the others didn’t fare better. She touched the tender leaves with a fingertip. It was so easy to kill the seedlings. They were full of energy and life, but if they lacked sunlight or received too much water, they became limp and withered.
Instead, all they needed was space to grow and a gentle hand.
Two things that seemed difficult to come by.
