Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Isobel awoke the next day with the resolve to find the culprit.
She did not wish to waste more time keeping up the charade that she was Valarie, instead intending to dedicate her time and efforts to uncovering the mastermind behind her affliction.
So that morning, she went downstairs as gracefully as she could, smiling brightly at any and all who crossed her path.
Then she approached people, instead of letting them come to her at their own pace, wanting to get the pleasantries out of the way for the day, and also put into practice what she had learned the night before.
Richard was — frustratingly — right. People did love to talk about themselves. Especially when it was obvious that they had someone willing to listen. All Isobel had to do was ask a few leading questions, and they were telling her more than she needed to know.
She had approached a young lady whom she had seen the day before around Bridget and introduced herself, knowing that her name was Miss Maisel and she was accompanying her mother, who was friends with Deborah.
“I must confess, I am rather bored. Please do not be offended, I did not mean to be so rude,” Maisel responded when Isobel had asked her what she thought of the house party.
“Oh, no. You are my guest, and your comfort is what matters more than anything. You have a right to voice your opinion. Though I am sorry to hear that you are not enjoying yourself.” Isobel responded sympathetically.
“It is not your fault. My mama refused to leave me at home because she was worried I would be approached by our gardener’s son, Thomas.
He is quite sweet and thoughtful, but I have told her not to worry because he doesn’t fancy me like that.
I do — fancy him, but he spends his day pinning for my maid, Elise.
I can see it. But mama said that there would be much more handsome men here, and well…
only the Duke of Dellamere has caught my attention, but he is rather imposing, so I find it hard to approach him. ” Maisel said with a wistful sigh.
Isobel nodded, inwardly sighing at how useless the conversation had been so far.
“Speaking of, I am very glad to see everyone in such high spirits, regardless of the lack of entertainment. I was worried others might fall ill. I wasn’t sure what I had eaten that made me sick, but I was concerned it might affect the other guests.
” She said quickly, hoping the sudden change in topic would not strike the other girl as odd.
But she did not suspect a thing, it would seem, and she shook her head.
“We were all worried when we heard you had fallen ill. I didn’t know it was due to something you had eaten. As far as I know, no one else had fallen ill.” Maisel told her with a small frown.
“Did you happen to see anything suspicious? Perhaps someone’s dog got a little too close to the dining table or something of that sort?” Isobel pressed, looking for some sort of clue.
“Not that I can recall. It was a rather… exciting morning, with everyone overjoyed about your approaching wedding. Most people did not want to even stay in their seats long enough to eat breakfast, and they kept trying to talk to you.” Maisel explained.
“Right. Well, thank you. Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Maisel,” Isobel smiled at her before briskly walking away.
She quickly picked another guest, buttering them up with flattery and compliments, innocently enquiring about their well-being and what they thought about the party.
“I cannot help but wonder about your groom, Miss Wightman. Are you certain he has every intention of getting married? It is rather strange that he is not here yet. A similar thing happened to my aunt’s cousin’s sister!
Her betrothed claimed to be on his way, and then he never arrived!
Of course, they claimed that he was suddenly drafted for the war… ”
“The only thing out of place was Aunt Beatrice. I saw her request for some brandy, and she mixed it into her tea! What a foul habit, I tell you – so early in the day as well. It did not come as a surprise to me when I eventually found her speaking to a shrub much later in the day. We must get that woman some help.”
“Something amiss? Oh no. How did you know I had been missing from breakfast that morning? All right – I will confess, but you mustn’t tell a single soul.
A few of us chaps decided to set up a little gaming circle – just for fun.
We play cards and chess… maybe sometimes a few stakes are introduced, but it is nothing nefarious, I promised.
Do not tell my mother, she’ll have my head. ”
The outcome remained the same the second, third, and fourth time around.
They always had much to say, but nothing was relevant to the information she sought.
Despite the disappointment over a morning wasted, Isobel couldn’t deny that she was impressed that what Richard had taught her was so effective.
As though he had been summoned by her thoughts, Isobel looked up and found him looking back at her, the corners of his lips quirked up in a self-satisfied smirk. It was clear that he knew what she was up to, and he thought it amusing for some reason.
Irritated, she grumbled under her breath, annoyed by his expression, and pretending her heart hadn’t fluttered when she noticed he was watching her.
Isobel grew tired of the guests and their fussing eventually, and she decided to take a walk outside. On her way out, she dropped her handkerchief, and when she reached down to pick it up, someone had already done so for her.
“Good morning,” the man greeted her with a smile.
He had bright blonde hair and dark eyes, and Isobel recalled Richard telling her of a man who bore this description and immediately smiled.
“Cousin Arnold. Good morning. How are you today?” she enquired politely, finally able to put a face to the man Deborah had been searching for the day before.
He glanced back at the expanse of the property and grinned,
“I am well, cousin. I felt rather uncomfortable after spending so much time indoors, so I went for a ride in the woods. How are you today? It gives me great joy to see you back on your feet. You looked rather sickly that morning. I was quite worried.”
Isobel smiled reassuringly. “I am quite well. It seemed that something I might have eaten did not agree with my insides. But after some rest and some medicine, I am as right as rain once more.”
“I am very glad to hear that. We were all quite concerned. What — with your wedding only a handful of days away, there is no worse time to fall ill. But you look rather dazzling today, so I trust that you are in good health.” He replied, nodding in approval.
He seemed so charming and respectful, it was hard to imagine he was related to Bridget in any way. He did not seem anything like his mother; his words were rather confident, whereas Deborah’s were soft-spoken. They were quite a unique family to her.
Her lips parted to ask him if he recalled seeing anything suspicious the day she fell ill, but before she could get a word out, she heard a scream.
“Did you hear that?”
He stared down at her blankly. “Hear what?”
Isobel glanced around. “I thought… I thought I heard a child scream. Did you really not hear that?”
Arnold shook his head, and she considered chalking it up to her imagination, but her instincts told her there was no harm in searching her environment anyway.
So she told her cousin, “I must go. Have a nice day.”
After he had walked off into the house, she walked around it, heading in the direction of the garden.
These ones were much more modest compared to the one her mother had nurtured in Scotland, but they had their own charm, marked with colorful flowers that swayed in the gentle breeze.
Isobel continued to walk around, searching for the source of the cries, when finally, she spotted a child seated on the floor in tears.
Quickly, she ran to her, gently reaching for her hands to pull her up to her feet.
“There, there, little one. It is all right now. You will be just fine.”
The child peered up at her curiously, and Isobel noticed her tear-filled green eyes, realizing that this was her sister, Nora.
Inhaling sharply, she led the child to a bench close by and gingerly peered at the bleeding scratch on her knee.
“Do not cry, poppet. I am here now and it’ll all be —”
“I know you are not Valerie.”
Isobel stiffened, eyes wide. “W-What do you mean?”
“Cecil and I saw her in the attic, asleep. She looked… something happened to her, didn’t it?”
Isobel moved closer to the child, gently wiping her tears away, before she used her handkerchief to dab at the scratch gingerly.
“She will be all right soon. She is currently recovering, so she needs all the rest she can get. I am her twin sister, Isobel. And I am here to help her.” Isobel told her gently, patting the child’s hair softly.
“Do you promise?” Nora asked nervously.
Isobel smiled at her kindly, holding out her littlest finger. Nora perked up a bit and wrapped herself around Isobel, her eyes hopeful, and she stared up at her older sister.
“You have my word. I will do everything in my power to ensure that she is absolutely fine.” Isobel told her.
Nora nodded, some of the colors returning to her cheeks as she sniffed. Isobel was about to ask her where she had been going when she felt, but she was cut off by rapid footfalls.
“Nora! There you are! I have been searching for —”
The boy who came into view looked only a little older than Nora, but the way he looked at Isobel spoke of strength and wisdom beyond his years.
“You’re…Valerie’s twin. The one papa asked to act like her while she sleeps.” He said, regarding her curiously.
Isobel nodded. “My name is Isobel. It is nice to meet you, Cecil.” She glanced down at Nora with a smile. “And you, Nora.”
Neither child seemed surprised that she knew their name, and Isobel thought it was endearing how adorable they were, especially when Cecil stepped forward and declared.
“I want to help. Whatever you need — whatever it takes to keep Valerie safe. I will not allow whoever hurt Valerie to go without being punished.”
It was a noble declaration, clearly made out of love, and not for the first time, Isobel felt as though she had missed out on something wonderful by not getting to witness Cecil’s growth.
She loved being the youngest of her siblings, loved being doted on and cared for consistently.
But she often wondered what it was like, having younger siblings.
She wondered what it would have been like to have a little boy or girl trail after her, and she had trailed after Graham.
She wondered how many of her mannerisms they would pick up and embody, what they would have in common, and what would set them apart.
Cecil’s desire to avenge his sister told Isobel all she needed to know about his upbringing, and she couldn’t help but wonder what other spirited journeys he would have to make as he grew older.
She smiled at him, beckoning him closer. He stepped towards her without hesitation, and when he was close enough, she reached up to Pat his hair.
“That is very brave of you. You would be very popular among the ladies in Scotland.” She teased with a grin. “They value chivalry and a strong, brave heart. I can tell you possess all of those fine qualities.”
Cecil looked confused for a moment, then he asked,
“Was that where you lived? In Scotland?”
Isobel nodded. Nora and Cecil exchanged expressions of surprise.
“What was it like?” Nora questioned, her injury long forgotten.
“It was beautiful. It still is. The people are loud but honorable and good at heart. It is a lovely place, I would love you to visit sometime.” She told them wistfully.
“Do you miss it?” Cecil asked softly.
Isobel thought of the days before her father’s passing, the joy they shared after Catherine and Margaret married and returned to Scotland to visit.
She recalled the warmth that always filled the house, no matter the weather.
She thought of the laughter, the games they played, and the songs they sang, each one of them excited to have air in their lungs and blood in their veins.
It was a simpler time, and although the moments that came after contained grief, she would not trade any of it for anything in the world.
She looked down at Cecil, at his innocent, bright-eyed face, and silently longed for her own youth to return.
“All the time. I miss it all, constantly.”