CHAPTER THREE #6
"Ah," Elizabeth said with a smile, setting her chin atop Marian's head.
"I believe that one was meant for a sheep.
Not that it matters a great deal to them either way.
It may as well be a dog, if that's what he wants.
" Marian lifted her head, taking an interest in the toy; to forestall a second tantrum, Elizabeth scooped another one up off the floor and offered it to her daughter, who accepted it and promptly began to gnaw on the creature's head.
Fortunately, it was nearly as big as her fist, so she ran no risk of choking on it, and the act seemed to soothe her.
"But you were going to ask for a favour? "
The pause in their conversation had nearly robbed Isabel of her resolve, but there was no avoiding it now.
She plunged forward. "Ah – yes. I have found – that is, taken on – some piece work.
Embroidery, for a tailor's shop. And though I'll manage some of it at home, I believe Hilda would prefer that I attend to my duties there and not pass the time pursuing my own interests.
" I believe carried a great deal of weight in that sentence: she had not even attempted to broach the subject, much less work on the embroidery while she was under Hilda's roof.
She couldn't run the risk of Hilda or the girls taking note of what she was doing and demanding to know why; if nothing in their arrangement forbade Isabel from taking on outside work, it was only because Hilda had not thought of it.
"So I intend to do most of the work at the tailor's shop – but Walter will be underfoot there, and bored besides.
And I thought, perhaps, if it is not too much trouble –"
"That we keep him here?" Elizabeth. "We'd be more than happy.
He and Marian can occupy themselves together – two little ones will be no more bother for me than one.
And Walter's a good boy, he won't cause any trouble.
" Her smile was fairly glowing. "I'm pleased to hear you've found work.
It must be hard on you, closeted in that house day in and day out. "
The sentiment was kindly meant, which did not prevent Isabel feeling an entirely unreasonable surge of irritation at it.
She knew full well that Matthew and Elizabeth worried over her; Elizabeth was more politic about it than Matthew, but both had made comments enough that their concern was evident.
It was the sort of thing she ought to feel grateful for, and the weight of that expectation only soured her further.
She didn't want concern, or pity. She preferred to be thought of as someone who could manage her own affairs.
That it wasn't true didn't stop her from wanting it.
"It is a piece of good luck," she said through her teeth. "For both of us, really – she has the benefit of my work, and I the chance to ply my needle. And Walter will enjoy passing time here, I think."
"I hope he does," Elizabeth said, then frowned a little. "This tailor – she will be paying you, won't she? You ought to have a share in the profits, if your labour enriches her."
Isabel almost laughed at that: what would she do with money, besides buy herself silly baubles meant to distract from the unpleasantness of life in Hilda's household? But she kept her face calm and neutral and said, "I suppose she will, if I request it."
"You should." Isabel felt another unreasonable flare of anger at the sentiment – she didn't need Elizabeth to tell her what she should and shouldn't do – but she held it in check.
Her sister-in-law spoke only out of concern, and Isabel was in no position to object to that.
Not when she was reliant on Elizabeth's goodwill to see Walter taken care of.
And certainly not when it was only owing to Elizabeth's good nature that she tolerated Isabel under her roof at all.
The creak of the door opening behind her was a welcome distraction; certainly it occupied Elizabeth's attention, as her face lit up at the sight of Matthew stepping inside.
Isabel looked down at her lap; the sight made something sharp and painful throb in her chest. Matthew stepped around her and bent to kiss his wife, before lifting a squealing Marian up into his arms. "How's my button, hmm? Have you been good for your mama?"
"Matthew, we have guests," Elizabeth said, but her voice danced as she said it.
Matthew managed to pull his attention from his family long enough to catch sight of Isabel, and the broad grin on his face grew broader.
"It's good to see you," he said, bending to kiss her cheek and ruffle Walter's hair. "It's been far too long."
"A few weeks, at most," Isabel said. Old habits died hard, and she felt far less circumspect about being short with Matthew than she did his wife. "And I'd best be on my way now – Hilda will want me home in time to ready the girls for supper."
"Surely she can spare you another hour, at least," Matthew said, jogging Marian so that she laughed. "I've not spoken to you in – well, a few weeks, I suppose. It would be a fine thing if you could share a meal with us, and I'm certain we could feed you better than that -"
"Matthew," Elizabeth said, her voice gentle but implacable. "Marian's in need of a nap, I think. Will you take her upstairs?"
Matthew looked at his wife, and something passed between them that Isabel could not name but nevertheless felt like an intruder for witnessing.
He nodded, shifting the baby in his arms; she'd already started to fuss.
"I'll get her settled," he said, then glanced back at Isabel. "You're certain you can't stay longer?"
"I'll be back soon," Isabel said, getting to her feet.
"I've found – well, Elizabeth may explain it to you.
But I'll be visiting more often, in the coming months.
" He still looked unhappy, and the expression on his face was so near to the one she remembered from childhood that she felt her resolve soften in spite of herself.
"Next week," she said. "I'll come and stay for supper, I promise. "
Matthew glanced at Elizabeth once more, then pulled Isabel into a brief, one-armed hug. "I look forward to it," he said, "and to hearing what it is you've found that will bring you back to our door. It's good news, I hope?"
"Very much so," Elizabeth murmured. She was smiling at both of them, and it made Isabel's skin prickle with something that felt almost like shame.
She ducked her head at Elizabeth in a facsimile of a nod, did the same to Matthew and Marian, then retreated out the half-open door as quickly as she could without sacrificing either dignity or politeness.
She wasn't entirely certain that she'd managed either.