17. Isabel
Ibreezed back to the north wing walking on air. And it hit me. With everything happening so fast, one thing on top of the other, I never thought past this man stealing a piece of my heart and fusing it with his.
A man who, moments ago, stood before me saying I was the only woman he wanted in his life. The last thing on my mind was thinking about the fact that I was expected to cross the threshold into the realm of blue-blooded living.
Roman was a very wealthy man, the heir to a fortune the vastness of which I couldn’t possibly imagine. His life was finely tuned, and he was nothing short of the crown prince being primed and polished to take the throne.
All of that possibly jeopardized because Roman opened his heart and life to a pastry chef he kissed in a bookshop one crazy night. It was impossible to ignore the insanity of it all.
Outside Henry’s room, I put a concerted effort into wiping the gratified smile off my face. The last thing I needed was for Emily to find out about my carnal familiarity with Roman.
I was greeted by a sweet scene. Emily sat next to Henry, holding his hand and watching Rebecca, starring Joan Fontaine and Laurence Olivier. Emily paused the film. “Isabel! You’re back early. I thought you wanted to spend some time in the library.”
To say I was a little startled by Emily’s comment would be putting it mildly. Since when was she okay with staff dawdling during working hours? At least it was reassuring that she didn’t suspect my secret liaison, because no way would she be this friendly if she had any idea what had just gone down in that library.
“Oh, I was done with what I wanted to do,” I said like the good staff member I was. “And I didn’t want to go past my lunch hour.” I didn’t dare to mention that if I had my way, I’d probably still be in that library, with Roman doing unmentionable things to me.
“Come and sit down,” Emily continued. “You’re welcome to watch Rebecca with us. I forgot to tell you there were actually two films Henry watched and enjoyed. This was one of them. The other was Rain Man. Two vastly different films but there you have it.”
“Then I’ll read Henry the novel Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier,” I said. “If it’s not in the library here, I’ll bring it from home. It’s a bit of a bleak read but interesting. I mean the new Mrs. de Winter becomes obsessed with her husband’s first wife, which is pretty insane.
I sat down in my reading chair. For a fleeting second, a whiff of Roman’s smell on me wafted up my nose. There were so many emotions and memories stacking up in this short period of time, that I couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. Well, actually a lot.
“Excuse me, did you say in the book Maximillian’s new wife is obsessed with his dead wife, Rebecca?” Emily asked, sitting there with her back straight, legs elegantly crossed and a twinkle in her eyes. “It doesn’t quite come across that strongly in the movie.”
“Oh yes, she’s definitely obsessed with Rebecca. I mean she ponders what kind of body Rebecca had, and if she smelled like and I quote, crushed petals of azaleas, unquote. But she doesn’t come close to Mrs. Danvers, the housekeeper, who puts the cherry on the crazy cake with a scene where she has the new wife slip her hand in the dead wife’s slipper and makes her caress Rebecca’s sexy nighty. And all the while Mrs. Danvers is reminiscing about Rebecca’s hair and undies… And also her clothes being ripped from her body when she was drowning.”
Emily smiled. “You know, now that you mention it… Not really subtle, is it?”
“Subtle doesn’t come to mind, no. I’m sure Henry would like it though.”
“Henry would love it,” she said with her eloquent little laugh. “I’m going to order some coffee, would you like a cup?”
I jumped up. “I can go and get us some.”
“Please sit down, Isabel. We have staff here who do that.”
It might have been Emily’s tone, or perhaps it was her imposing smile, but I planted myself back on the chair before the next second rolled around.
“How do you take your coffee? she asked. “Cream and sugar?”
“Cream and two sugars, please.”
I watched Emily text her request, and after she put her phone back on the small table beside her, she fiercely met what must have been my somewhat bewildered gaze.
It could have been my imagination but there was a change in the air.
“Do you remember telling me during the interview that you weren’t sure how to act in a place like this?” she asked me. “I hope you don’t feel as nervous anymore.”
My flinch was purely instinctive. And we were having this conversation now, why?
The perkiest smile I could manage arranged itself on my face. “I’m not going to lie, I still have my moments, but I’m not nearly as intimidated by it all as I was the day I came for the interview.”
“Well, that’s good,” she said. “And believe me it will get better and before you know it, it will feel like home.”
A wave of guilt engulfed me. I was betraying this wonderful woman’s trust. She hired me to read to someone she really loved, and here I was seducing her son and turning one of the most beautiful libraries in the country into a sex den.
At the same time, it took two to tango and Roman didn’t seem too bothered that Emily might find out. But delaying that sordid detail for as long as possible was definitely something I was aiming for.
“How did you feel the first time you came to Belmont Manor, Emily?” I asked. “Did you feel nervous?”
“Nervous?” Emily replied. “I was terrified the first time I stood in front of this house. I almost fled.”
It was difficult to imagine the always perfectly-put-together, unflappable Miss Emily Leyland being terrified of anything. “But you didn’t flee. What made you stay?”
Emily smiled pensively. “Just before I turned back to the car to leave, I looked up to the first floor of what I now know to be the north wing. A man was standing at the window looking out. When he saw me he somehow knew I was hesitating. Then he smiled, almost as if he was assuring me that it was not as terrifying as it might seem. That man turned out to be Henry, who I didn’t meet personally until six months later, even though I was the assistant to his personal assistant. And when we finally met his first words to me were, See, it’s not nearly as bad as you thought it would be.”
A thought flashed through my mind. Is this what forever with one person looked like? Did Roman and I have what it took to get to the point where we couldn’t live without each other?
“And ever since your relationship started you knew that was it?” I asked.
Emily looked at Henry lovingly. “Oh, the thing about the Belmont men is that once they open their heart to someone their loyalty is unwavering. They’re like wolves; they mate for life.”
Well, if that wasn’t an enchanting thought begging for later reflection. At the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder why Emily had specifically referred to the Belmont men.
I also quickly reminded myself that this was ridiculously early to be thinking about forever with Roman. And there was still the complication threatening to derail all the bliss. Even if I didn’t want to contemplate a life without him.
The knock on the door ripped me out of my reverie. It was Sophia with our coffee tray. When I rose to take the tray from Sophia, my gaze met Emily’s, and she shook her head no, almost imperceptibly. And I sank back into the chair.
“Thank you, Sophia,” Emily said graciously as Sophia offered her a cup of coffee.
My discomfort with sitting like a princess waiting to be served must have been evident. Sophia offered the tray for me to take my coffee. “Grazie Sophia,” I whispered apologetically. Sophia smiled brightly, as if she could sense my unease. “Prego, Isabel.”
Emily waited until Sophia had left the room before she turned to me, all smiles. ”I never had the opportunity to pass along many of the things I”ve learned over the years, living at Belmont Manor. It would be lovely to have a protégé.”
A weird sensation took hold of my senses, and my initial confusion morphed into suspicion. First it was the wolf thing, now this.
Did Emily have a hunch about Roman and me? As quickly as the thought occurred I dismissed it. That was me being paranoid, and I had to stop it. Emily was just being kind and generous with her time and knowledge.
My first reaction was to make light of it. “You mean in case one day I get invited to a fancy dinner somewhere?”
“Or in case you have to attend a lot of fancy dinners,” Emily said, and took a dainty sip of coffee. When she looked up again she regarded me as if assessing my ability to adapt to this life.
There was simply no mistaking that look.
And now it became pretty obvious that the lunch earlier with the three of us had been a spectacularly bad idea. Emily definitely had an inkling and now she was forced to help me blend into this life with a little more grace.
But even if she knew, what were the chances that she would so readily accept the relationship, let alone think of it as long-term? I had no idea what to make of this.
Her phone dinged. I watched as she read the message, the faintest smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Speaking of invitations,” she said. “Roman is inviting the two of us to lunch tomorrow in his office.”
Well, shit.
I busied myself drinking my coffee as if that was the most important thing to do right then. I restricted my reply to a noncommittal murmur. Like yeah okay sure whatever. In the meantime, my heart was beating thunderously against my ribs.
Could the man not keep our meetings private and restrict them to the library for now? This was nothing short of him standing on the roof of this mansion and announcing to the world that my relationship with him, my now-boss, had crossed the line into unchaste and totally inappropriate.
Right then my phone dinged. Oh great, trouble in stereo. I fished my phone out of my black bag. One guess who. The message was distinct and clear.
Roman: Say yes, honey badger.
Lest I forget he could hear every word spoken in this room. And sure my insides were in danger of melting into a molten mess of desire before I summoned what dignity I could find in my armory.
I smiled at Emily, my voice as even as I could manage. “That sounds nice, sure.”
Emily got busy typing a message to Roman, and when she was done she had this serene look of accomplishment. “You’ll be expected for lunch in the south wing at noon.”
“Uhm, I thought we were both going,” I said.
“Oh, I can’t attend but that doesn’t mean you can’t go,” Emily said, nonchalantly. “So I accepted on your behalf. Roman will come and get you. In any event, it would be good for you to get more familiar with the rest of the house. Roman will have lunch catered by the wonderful Japanese restaurant in the Belmont Hotel.”
I opened my mouth to say that since it was just for two people, I could make something, but Emily’s tone suggested the conversation about lunch was done.
“I’m going to start at the beginning of the film so you can watch it with Henry and me,” she said instead.
“Thank you, Emily, that would be great.” I surreptitiously put my phone on vibrate and typed Roman a message.
Me: Bad man. Bad to the bone. I think Emily might suspect something. Thanks for that.”
His response was lightning-fast. Two words that made my throat clamp up.
Roman: She knows.
Me: Oh God.
Roman: In a meeting now. Talk to you later. Enjoy your movie, my sweet.
I looked up, my gaze locking with Emily’s. She might have smiled at the mortification raiding my face. She might have smiled because she was happy for us. Or she might have smiled because she now had her very own protégé, whether I liked it or not.
Thank God the movie started. It gave me a chance to calibrate. And since Emily’s reaction wasn’t as intense as I would have expected, and not negative at all, my heartbeat downgraded to normal.
But I was going to have a word with Roman about this. Perhaps warning me that Emily was in the know would have prepared me a little more. Especially since I’d waltzed in here with a certain glow that one didn’t exactly get from reading books.
Before long I was caught up in the movie and there was no time for reflection or regrets. I decided that if Emily wanted to broach the topic, I’d be as honest as possible.
Except for anything about sex. There was no way on God’s green earth that I was going to admit to this woman that pounding, sweaty sex with Roman was on my mind 1440 minutes a day. Every day. Or that he’d turned me into a bodacious sex fiend and that it only took one little whiff of his scent or even just one of his smoldering looks for my panties to drop to the floor.
In the movie, when the housekeeper Mrs. Danvers got the second Mrs. de Winter to feel up the dead wife’s very see-through nighty, an uncouth little snort emanated from Emily’s direction.
We shared a glance, and inexplicably we both started laughing and couldn’t stop. It got to the point where Emily had to pause the movie and we both needed tissues to wipe the tears streaming down our cheeks.
When we finally calmed down, Emily delicately patted her eyes as if she didn’t just laugh hysterically at a very serious scene in the movie. “By the way, Isabel, I don’t know if you’re aware but it’s Roman’s birthday tomorrow.”
I gasped and as much as I tried there was no dialing back my surprise. “Oh my God, are you serious?”
There were questions hovering, standing in line on the tip of my tongue. How old was Roman? And what gift could I possibly get for a man like him? And why was Emily so cool with all of this?
She sensed my anxiety and soothed me with a smile. “You having lunch with him is exactly the gift Roman wants. Henry is having some tests done tomorrow and that will take the rest of the day. I’ve already told Roman, so he can readjust his schedule to have the afternoon free.”
I sighed with relief. “So, is this why you won’t have lunch with us?”
“Oh, talk about a third wheel. Judging from our lunch today, I’ll just be in the way.”
I hesitated before blurting out. “Are you okay with all of this, Emily? It’s all been a little crazy.”
“I couldn’t be more delighted, Isabel. You make Roman happy, and you have no idea how much it means to me to see him like this.”
Since Roman was in a meeting, he wasn’t listening to what we were discussing, so I was going to take the opportunity. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” she said queenly.
“It might sound a little strange, but I have no idea how old Roman is.”
“He’ll be thirty-two tomorrow.”
My mind was whirling around at the strangeness of it all. Any and all trepidation I might have had was carefully hidden under this gushing happiness coursing through me, filling up the empty crevices inside until I wanted to burst.
“Do you know what you’ll be wearing?” Emily asked.
Since my life demanded comfort above style, my small closet loyally reflected that. It could have been my hesitation to answer her swiftly, but Emily stood up. “I have a dress that I think would look lovely on you. Come with me.”
It was the first time I got to visit Emily and Henry’s private apartment in the north wing, just above the room where Henry was staying now. She dragged me to her closet, which wasn’t so much a closet as it was a breathtaking look inside the pages of classic Vogue in real time. And organized to within an inch of its life. I didn’t know what to look at first.
“When you get to be my age you become somewhat limited as to what you can wear,” Emily said. “I’ve kept my clothes over the years, but most I will never wear again. Let me show you the dress I have in mind.”
As it turned out Emily and I were not only the same height and size but we wore the same size shoes. I smiled at her. “The Belmont men have the same particular taste in women, I see.”
She laughed and without hesitation pulled out a luster crepe champagne-colored dress that was elegant in its simplicity, and absolutely stunning. “I think this would look lovely on you, Isabel.”
And then she presented me with a pair of classic high heels in exactly the same color. I had to stop myself from actively drooling.
Good manners intervened and I had to ask. “Emily, are you sure about this?”
“Yes, and not only am I sure, but I also insist. If anyone can do this dress justice, it’s you.”
She had me put on the dress and shoes. The dress cascaded down my frame like a waterfall and accentuated every curve without clinging to my body. I’d never worn anything as beautiful.
Emily stood behind me, her hands clasped to her mouth. “My goodness, don’t you look stunning. I was going to suggest we put some pearls on you, but frankly I don’t think you need anything else.”
There was no way to stop the tears stinging my eyes. When I hugged Emily it was very reminiscent of the comfort I felt when I hugged my mom.
I decided then I would have no qualms about being Emily’s protégé. God forbid I picked the wrong fork at the table to stab my shrimp at a fancy dinner, and here was this lovely woman willing to teach me all there was to know.
“I never had a daughter,” she said. “But it’s never too late. It’s as if you were meant to be in this family.”