Chapter Eleven #3
Instead, Isabella concentrated her efforts on deciphering the simple poem, convinced that if she found the elusive rose in the clue, she would find the treasure.
She quickly discovered, however, there were roses of all kinds, shapes and sizes among the furnishings of The Grange—wood furniture with roses carved in it, stone-and-wood moldings featuring a rose motif, stained glass windows with roses prominently and subtlely displayed, stone carvings of roses on the face of archways both inside and outside the castle walls.
She also learned in the course of her brief investigation that there existed a rose bedchamber, a rose sitting room, a rose drawing room, a Queen Elizabeth bedchamber, a Tudor bedchamber, and innumerable rooms supposedly named for Lady Anne.
Surprisingly, Jenkins was able to supply much of the information she required about the history of The Grange and its various rooms, but Isabella was no closer to arriving at any conclusions than when she had first begun her search several days before.
She conceded honestly to herself that greatly hampering her efforts was her appalling sense of, or rather lack of, direction.
Isabella knew she could not go mucking about the castle alone.
She would surely get lost after a few turns.
Jenkins had gallantly volunteered his assistance, but he was preoccupied with estate matters, and as yet was unable to spend any time with Isabella.
“I could use some hot water if there is any to spare, Maggie,” Isabella said to the maid when she entered the warm kitchen.
Isabella had deliberately made this detour through the kitchen to acquire fresh water for washing herself and the children.
She knew from experience there would be no male servants about the castle to perform this simple task at this hour of the day.
“I’ll fill a bucket for you right away,” Maggie replied. Placing the basket of beans she held in her lap on the floor, Maggie struggled awkwardly to rise from her low chair.
“No, no, I can get it myself,” Isabella insisted, rushing forward before the maid could gain her feet.
Lately, it pained Isabella greatly to watch Maggie.
The young women’s body was so large and distended from her pregnancy that she appeared to be in a continual state of discomfort.
It should only be a matter of days before Maggie’s baby was born, and Isabella prayed fervently every night that it would be a swift and uncomplicated birth.
“Don’t know why you’d be needing hot water in the middle of the afternoon,” Mrs. Amberly grumbled as she stirred a black pot simmering on the stove.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Amberly,” Isabella said sweetly.
She pointedly ignored the housekeeper’s comment, not wanting to ignite Mrs. Amberly’s barely concealed hostility.
The housekeeper’s attitude towards the new governess had not changed.
She greatly resented Isabella’s influence over the children and was not averse to showing it.
“The earl will be home for tea this afternoon,” Isabella announced.
She gave Maggie a stern look. “You must promise me you will have Molly or Fran bring in the tea tray, Maggie. And if for some reason they are unavailable, don’t hesitate to call me.
I don’t want you lugging a heavy tray up all those stairs. ”
“All right, Miss Browning,” Maggie replied shyly, her cheeks blushing pink with pleasure at Isabella’s concern.
Isabella could hear Mrs. Amberly’s grumbling objections as she left the kitchen, but she paid them no heed. Arms straining with the heavy bucket of hot water she carried, Isabella carefully climbed the staircase, heading directly towards the children’s room.
Isabella helped Catherine and Ian change out of their soiled garments and wash the dirt off their hands and faces. Freshly scrubbed and neatly dressed, the children were eager to race to the drawing room to await their father. Isabella restrained them.
“I expect both of you to behave in a suitable manner this afternoon. There will be no arguing, no shouting, no teasing, no physical roughness.” Isabella paused dramatically for effect. “In short, there will be no unpleasantness of any kind. Is that clearly understood?”
A telling look passed between Catherine and Ian.
They regarded their governess with somber, innocent eyes, but Isabella was not fooled.
Catherine and Ian could behave with total restraint and decorum when the mood suited them, but a few minutes in the company of their imposing father could reduce them to unbridled hellions.
Sternly, Isabella made her final proclamation.
“I give you fair warning, children. The moment you begin bickering, I shall make you stand in the corner of the drawing room, with your noses touching the wall, until the hall clock strikes the hour.”
Isabella waited several moments for her dire threats of punishment to sink in before dismissing the children.
Then she hurried across the hall to her bedchamber.
She fretted for several moments over her appearance, sighing with regret as she looked into the wardrobe.
No magical occurrence during the night had produced any fashionable and flattering gowns.
Only the same dull, serviceable garments awaited her.
Vainly she wished for something soft and gossamer to wear, something that would ignite the flame of passion she occasionally glimpsed in Damien’s eyes.
Blushing at her wayward thoughts, Isabella concentrated on washing the dirt from her face. She brushed her long hair slowly, savoring the comforting feeling of the soothing strokes. Her thoughts, as always, drifted again to the earl. Damien. Always Damien.
Isabella had been obsessing over it for days, but now it no longer seemed important to determine when she realized the true extent of her feelings for the handsome, arrogant earl.
Perhaps she had fallen in love with him as she observed his dark head bent solicitously toward his children as he patiently listened to them recount the events of their day.
Or maybe it occurred when she saw him lift a heavy tray of soiled dishes for the very pregnant Maggie while the maid blushed with gratitude and shyness.
Actually, Isabella suspected that she opened her heart to Damien the morning he appeared on the church steps to accompany her to services. He was nervous that day, but he put aside his own misgivings for her.
In truth, it didn’t matter when she began to love the earl, the fact was that she did.
And it caused a combination of joy and pain within her heart the likes of which she had never known before.
For Isabella knew she lacked the courage and self-confidence to ever reveal her feelings to Damien, and she never dared to hope he would somehow, miraculously, reciprocate her devotion.
Determinedly, she shook off her melancholy thoughts and deftly secured her hair in a tight coil.
She knew she had no cause for complaint.
All in all, she was living a satisfactory life.
The earl and his unconventional household fully accepted her and she was allowed a freedom of expression she had always sought, but never attained.
Casting one last look at the mirror, Isabella turned and headed downstairs, her heart beating in familiar excitement at the thought of spending a pleasant afternoon in the earl’s company.