Chapter 7
Sighing, Isabel stepped further into the garden parlor.
It was mid-day, so the sunlight was streaming through the French doors made of glass. With the curtains open, light touched every corner of the room. There were potted plants here now and the furniture had been rearranged since she had been here two days ago.
“This is beautiful,” she murmured.
What a delight to come here after her morning at church. That had been an awkward affair. Everyone had been rather startled to find their duke in town, apparently, but few dared to greet them. It had been disappointing, as had their ride back to the castle.
I know Grim can move fast, but it didn’t have to be a race back home. Just a short walk together might have been pleasant.
Skipping further into the room, Isabel paused at the corner where an easel had already been set up. She noted paints and several canvases already prepared.
“How?” She asked in disbelief when she turned to Mrs. Maple.
The woman tapped her nose. “I have my ways.”
That made Isabel chuckle. “You certainly do. I’ve already seen you work miracles. The stitching you taught Amber for my sleeve was just beautiful.”
“I enjoyed my days as a seamstress. But I rather enjoy managing a household now. My eyes need the rest.” Mrs. Maple stepped into the room. “I hope this meets your expectations.”
“Meets them? Goodness, it’s far exceeded my hopes.” She paused to brush her fingertips across the canvasses. And paintbrushes, too. There were several. “I cannot imagine the village had all of this?”
The housekeeper shook her head. “A day trip to Dover did the trick, however, to fetch what we couldn’t find.”
“Then you must have started the moment I mentioned what I was thinking about. Before I could even ask,” Isabel added. Her heart pattered over the company. The gift. The way they had listened to her and understood. “Who helped here? I should like to thank everyone individually.”
It was a trick she had learned early in her life, to ensure she knew the servants and their talents. Doing this here had worked wonders in the week since she had arrived. She knew everyone now, and they all knew her.
Mrs. Maple gestured behind her. “Oh, here and there. Johnny did the traveling, and Mary and Anna set everything up.
“And the furniture? I rather like the placement here quite well,” Isabel added earnestly.
“That? Oh. Well, I… I did,” Mrs. Maple said in a way that proved she was no good at lying.
Isabel raised an eyebrow. “Why are you hiding the truth?”
Immediately the older woman appeared sheepish, shrugging her shoulders and ducking her chin. “It isn’t that. I… well, I’m not certain everyone who did help, wishes to be known. He was rather modest about the rearrangement and orders for paints.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “He?”
Mrs. Maple opened her mouth and then closed it. Forcing a smile, she opened her hands. “I don’t know if he wants me saying anything, Your Grace.”
But she had said enough without actually explaining a word. There was no denying who this he was bound to be.
Sebastian. Had he overheard her the other day?
Isabel turned to look at the room. He must have.
And then he must have come at once to work on the garden parlor.
What compelled him to do such a thing, she couldn’t begin to imagine.
All the same, it made her heart pound. Warmth flooded through her soul and she tried not to think too much of it.
No one has given me a gift like this in such a long time.
“Is everything all right?” Mrs. Maple asked, her eyes widening in concern.
“Very much so. Thank you so very much. For everything,” Isabel added. “I can hardly wait to use this room. I should like to sit here for a while before I prepare for supper.”
The housekeeper nodded in relief. “Very well. I shall be on my way, then.”
Letting out a long breath, Isabel went to the stool before the easel and took a careful seat.
It was a perfect height not just for her long legs but for the arrangement of the easel.
Her lips pursed, resisting the urge to smile.
Had Sebastian helped with this part as well?
She wondered where this stool came from, where he had found it.
Why would he do this? The man acts like I’m nothing more than a nuisance. We hardly speak during meals or when we find each other in the house. He never seeks me out… Or is this his strategy to get me out of his way?
Isabel was wondering this question hours later as she reached the dining room. But instead of taking her seat at the long end of the table, she carefully picked up her plate.
“Your Grace?” Edward, one of the older footmen, stepped forward. “May I be of assistance?”
“Yes, please. I need my glass and silverware moved. Follow me.” She carried her plate all the way down to the other end to sit at Sebastian’s elbow.
She had just set the plate down when he entered. “I was looking for you in the parlor… what is happening?”
Straightening up, she forced a smile. Edward had paused. Waving him back into motion, Isabel answered her husband. “I’m sitting at your side. There is no need for us to sit like strangers at the same table.”
“Is it proper?”
Her eyes trailed around the room before returning to him. “Does it matter?”
A short hesitation. And then he offered the slightest nod. “Very well, then, as you like. Shall we?”
Edward pulled out the chair for her. Nodding, she quietly thanked him before settling in and looking to her husband. “See? I think this is much better. Now we can properly enjoy each other’s company.”
Doubt clouded his brow. “I suppose so.”
The first course was brought out, some cooked greens.
Eating better than she had in some time, Isabel was glad to have brought her small household staff here with her.
They would all be eating better now. The London house was closed off, the key mailed to her parents with a note that she was wed and could be contacted at Eastwynd.
I wonder if they’ll write.
“This is new,” Sebastian said just as she asked him, “Did you enjoy your ride?”
They looked at each other with awkward smiles before glancing away. Fiddling with her fork, Isabel cleared her throat. “My apologies. Please, go on.”
He shook his head. “It’s nothing of interest. Only this is a new dish.”
“Do you not enjoy trying new things?” She couldn’t resist asking.
The hesitation warned her even as he said, “I don’t mind. I’m sure it will be fine fare.”
“We are trying some new menu items,” she admitted. “If there is anything that disagrees with you, please let me know.”
“It should be fine so long as it doesn’t talk back to me.”
She nearly dropped her food and fork when she realized what he had just said. A jest? Her eyes followed his movements as he went on to take a few bites of the dish. After a short nod to himself, he carried on eating without glancing her way. All this time and his stony expression never changed.
Shaking her head, Isabel put the matter aside to enjoy the meal as well.
This isn’t so terrible. I should have moved seats sooner. It’s intimidating, but I know better than to be frightened. And if he does have a sense of humor, then I think we shall get on after all. Perhaps it is the intimidation that has my heart pounding.
They ate quietly for the next three dishes before she remembered she had meant to ask him a question.
“Oh Sebastian, I was––” she reached for the salt to apply to her potatoes as she started and then stopped.
His hand was also reaching for the salt shaker. Their fingers brushed accidentally, briefly, and she gasped at the jolt of energy. At once she withdrew her hand.
Cheeks flushing, she murmured, “My apologies.”
Sebastian’s jaw tightened visibly as he said nothing. He used the salt likely and then moved it to her side.
Had he felt the jolt as well? She couldn’t tell. The man looked upset, his brow furrowing so deeply she almost couldn’t see his eyes. Though she wished he would glance her way, he was determined to avoid her.
She forgot her words once again, and the last two courses were eaten in silence. The tension between them continued to mount. As ladies departed first, she stood the moment she had taken a single bite of dessert, and then excused herself.
It might have only been a mere second of a touch. But she was thinking about it when she retired to bed that evening and when she woke up.
Perhaps Sebastian did as well, because he avoided her for the next two days until she managed to come across him on his way to the stables for his daily ride. His timing was never consistent, so she’d been out here in the snowy grounds with frozen feet pretending she was enjoying herself.
“Oh, what a surprise to see you,” she said the moment she spotted him.
He drew to a stop. “Isabel. What are you doing out here?”
Waving to the gardens, she said, “I’m walking, of course. It’s a lovely day out here.”
When he looked up to the cloudy sky, she did the same. It was a miracle she managed not to blush too terribly when he lowered his gaze to meet hers.
“Are you dressed warmly enough?” He asked in a tone that told her he clearly didn’t think so.
Tucking her hands into the pockets of her cloak, she merely smiled.
“One hardly has to worry in a pretty place like this. And you are one to talk. If I didn’t know better, Sebastian, I would think you mean to blend in with the stone of the house yourself.
” She gestured to the estate behind him, wondering if she was too bold with her teasing.
To her surprise, she caught sight of the corner of his mouth curving upward for just a moment. Then his lips flattened. He nodded. “Perhaps. Do warm yourself soon, Isabel.” Then Sebastian took his leave.
Isabel was left alone once more. But this time, she had the memory of a near-smile on her mind that kept her warm for the rest of the day.