4. Isla #3
Celie narrowed her eyes as she glanced at the Admiral.
“He would have been a bloodthirsty and precocious five-year-old, then.” She smiled at her friend and patted her hand.
“Now, Isla. Don’t you think it’s exciting to have someone new arrive on our shores and have him move in right next door to you? ”
“I do not.” She indulged in one of her infrequent, petulant pouts that Celie always said increased her cuteness by a factor of ten. “You know as well as I do that was supposed to be my land.”
Ignoring her friend’s pique, Celie grinned wickedly.
“Now, now, my dear, you’ve just become the envy of every unattached woman in the kingdom.
You just wait. All of those ladies who’ve been snubbing you for so many years will be throwing their calling cards your way, hoping to be invited for tea on the off chance that your new neighbor, the Admiral, might walk by your door. ”
“He better not walk by my door. I don’t intend to welcome him into my home, and I don’t think you should either.”
“Uh-oh.” Celie’s brows rose over twinkling gray eyes.
“What?”
“James has gotten in a preemptive strike. He sent an invitation to the capital to be given to Admiral Jonto, inviting him to a dinner party and dance in his honor. You’ll be expected to attend, of course.”
“He what?” Her startled voice carried across the room, and everyone turned to look at her. Isla glared back and then narrowed her eyes at Celie. She spoke more quietly this time in a controlled, low growl. “That sounds exactly like something Uncle James would do, and I will not attend.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to. James specifically put on the invitation that he and his niece would like to welcome the Admiral to our humble community and that you’re looking forward to making his acquaintance.”
The legs of Isla’s chair screeched on the hardwood floor as she pushed to her feet and glared down at her friend.
She rested her fists on her hips, unable to believe what she’d heard.
“He didn’t.” Once again, the room went silent as everyone turned to see what was so upsetting to one of the wealthiest women in their fair city.
The waitress hurried over with a flustered look on her round, friendly face.
“I’m so sorry, Milady. What with all these people here, I didn’t have time to get to you right away.
” She bobbed a quick curtsy and wrung nervous hands in front of her high, fulsome breasts.
“I’m happy to take your order now, though, as having yer ladyship here is always quite an honor. ”
Her lower-class cant was better than most, owing to the fact that the inn’s proprietor had the forethought to hire a linguist to train his employees in proper diction, thinking, quite correctly, that he’d entice a higher-class patron that way.
While Ellie’s manner of speech wasn’t perfect, it was so far above the ability of most peasants that it provided the intended results.
The plump woman wore her light brown hair in a simple bun at the nape of her neck, which only served to emphasize her over-wide jaw and wide, flat nose that, in nearly all cases, was indicative of one born into the peasant caste.
Ever since Isla’s mother had died some ten years earlier, members of the lower classes bowed and scraped to her daughter as though she was some great lady. Isla hid her irritation as always because, while she usually tried to be a lady, greatness had never settled easily upon her shoulders.
Fighting her anger at James’s temerity, she smiled and laid a calming hand on the serving woman’s arm.
“No, I’m not upset with you, and you know I never expect you to come running over when I visit your wonderful establishment.
Take your time, we're fine.” Playing the part of the elegant lady that society so fervently expected her to embody, she gathered her skirts and sat.
Ellie glanced over her shoulder at the Admiral’s table and then turned back and bobbed another curtsy.
“Thank you, Milady. I’m ready to take your order now, though.
Th’ special of th’ day is fresh-caught salmon and West Country tarts.
That comes with mixed vegetables on th’ side and a fresh loaf of dark bread. ”
Not caring at this point what she had to eat, Isla simply nodded.
“That will be fine, and perhaps you could see your way to bringing a spot of brandy?” Most proper women didn’t drink brandy in public, but it was one of the rebellious indulgences Isla allowed herself.
After Celie’s pronouncement, she definitely needed a bit of spirited indulgence.
Celie winked at the serving woman. “You know what I’ll have, Ellie.
Beef collops and toast, please. And I wouldn’t mind a spot of brandy myself.
” While most aristocrats would never deign to banter with the hired help, that wasn’t true of Isla or Celie.
The latter encouraged respectful familiarity and was often privy to the most salacious gossip imaginable.
Ellie glanced down at the two women with a mischievous sparkle shining in her eyes. She lowered her voice, not wanting to be overheard by the more proper elements of society. “You two ladies always bring on the whispers when you come in here and order your brandies and whiskeys.”
To Isla’s consternation, Ellie peeked over her shoulder again at the Admiral’s table.
“And he ordered beef collops, too. Said he was tired of fish, and anytime he got on land, he likes to find a place that serves it, and that’s always th’ first thing he orders.
” She turned back around, leaned over the table, and spoke barely above a whisper.
“Isn’t he just about th’ best-looking man you’ve ever seen? ”
Isla pursed her lips while Celie returned Ellie’s grin. “And his first mate’s not bad looking either.”
“Oh, aye. A foreigner. Has some kind of accent. Has his manners about him, though. I’ll run get your order in and be right back with your drinks.”
While Isla refused to look over her shoulder at the Admiral, she watched with growing irritation as a steady stream of ladies and a few gentlemen sauntered past. They strolled to his table to welcome him to their fair city and introduce themselves. “Why are people making such a fuss?”
“Well, you know if your mother were here, she’d already be sitting at his table asking all kinds of questions about what it’s like to be a pirate and telling him how exciting it was that he lived on the sea and had visited all manner of exotic places.”
At Isla’s frown, Celie sat forward and placed her fingers on the younger woman’s hand.
“Isla, your father was a commissioned naval officer. Your mother married him knowing he might die at sea. Whether it was pirates or ships from a warring kingdom, they knew it could happen, and they both accepted that fact. She loved your father but refused to let his death define her. She would have welcomed Admiral Jonto with a smile. You know she would have.”
That was precisely what her mother would do, and a small smile crept across Isla’s face at the realization. “Yes, and she’d already have issued him an invitation to come for tea and all of her friends would just happen to drop around when he was there.”
Celie looked at her young friend fondly. “Along those lines.…”
Cold fingers of suspicion ran up Isla’s spine. “What?”
They both paused while Ellie brought two snifters of brandy to their table before hurrying to get a basket of bread and a butter plate for them to nibble on before their meal.
Isla’s suspicion grew when Celie answered by specifically not answering the question put to her.
“There was a time before your mother passed, and maybe for a while after, when you’d have done the same.
Somewhere along the way, you’ve lost that childlike wonder, that joie de vivre you used to have whenever you were in her presence. ”
Sadness washed over Isla as she sat back in her chair. “I know. Sometimes, I think I’ve become what my mother despised.”
Celie sat up straight. “Never! You know as well as I do that your mother loved you no matter what. As do I. When I said you’ve changed, I didn’t necessarily mean that you’ve changed in a bad way.”
Isla smiled sadly at her friend. “I’m afraid you did, Celie, and you were right. Sometimes, I wish I could be more like Mamá and not be afraid of what others say or think.”
Celie waved off her words and angrily shook her head. “Do you know how many times your mother told me how worried she was that the other girls bullied you because of her eccentricities?”
That was news to Isla, who leaned forward, hoping her friend would continue.
“Do you remember that year when you were,” Celie paused to think, “you must’ve been around eleven or twelve, and your mother stopped going to the Enigma Club and stopped smoking cigars?
She stayed home and became like all the other so-called respectable socialites who prattle on about the newest imported perfumes or any number of other droll, unimportant topics. ”
A sad note crept into her voice. “She tried, Isla. She tried to be something she wasn’t for you so you wouldn’t be ashamed of her. She didn’t want the other little girls teasing you about your eccentric mother. Her love was so profound she was willing to change who she was to protect you.”
Isla did remember, but she recalled it as a time when her mother had fallen into a deep depression.
She’d had no idea that depression stemmed from her becoming a woman she was never meant to be.
A wave of guilt washed over her as she recalled all of the joy being leached out of her mother’s eyes.
All of her wonderful spontaneity had simply disappeared.
“I remember how depressed she was. I hated that time in our lives. It felt like my mother was gone, and this stranger was there in her place.”