After leaving her letter to be posted, Isabella made her way up to Jacqueline for her morning lessons. She was very excited about the upcoming plans she had for Jackie’s education.
They would spend the morning reading On the Approach of Autumn and other poems by Amelia Opie, a favorite of Isabella's. Then Isabella planned to take Jackie out after lunch for an afternoon of exploring the changing foliage of fall.
Aside from collecting colorful leaves and warm color flowers to decorate the school room, Isabella hoped also to catch a few caterpillars. She was excited to make a project of them for the duration of the winter and following spring months.
Isabella remembered doing such a project herself as a young girl. Each week she would take care of and carefully watch the fattening caterpillar till it retired to its magical cocoon. Isabella recalled the charm of watching the insect expand from its home the following spring, a beautiful new creature.
Isabella was excited to share such a memorable experience with her pupil. It was not only an informative lesson in natural science, but also an easy comparison to the process of oneself developing into a beautiful, graceful young lady.
After a cozy morning reading by the fire and a light luncheon, Isabella followed the excited Jackie as they made their way out past the central gardens of the estate. Isabella came armed with a large basket, prepared for collecting treasures, and a jar home for caterpillars.
Isabella tightened the thick woolen shawl that Mrs. Murray had knitted for her closer to her bodice. She was so grateful for Mrs. Murray’s motherly tendencies and was confident that she would have frozen without them this winter.
The sky was turning from its usual, everyday grey to a much more sinister hew of green. Because of this, Isabella decided they should not stray too far past the safety of the manor in the event of rain.
They walked joyfully along the wooden paths extending outward from the manicured gardens in a happy step. From time to time, Jackie would stop to point out an orange-hued leaf that had fallen to the ground or a wildflower still finding bloom in the late season. All were collected and tucked safely in Isabella’s basket.
They finally arrived at the small meadow that Jackie enjoyed so much. It was wide and open with deciduous trees framing its outline. Just before entering the field, Isabella caught a movement and stopped Jackie from going any further.
“Look,” Isabella whispered, coming down to Jackie’s level.
Jackie focused her eyes on the meadow in front of her. Then she gasped in delight as she saw two white ears poking up from the tall grass.
“Miss Watts, is it a white rabbit?”
Both girls crouched quietly at the edge of the meadow while they watched the top of the white rabbit hop from place to place. Every so often, he would stop and lift himself on his hind legs to sniff the air for danger.
“It must be,” Isabella said very softly. “Look how he hops around.”
“Do you think I can follow him?”
“Marvelous idea. Though, you must let me come with you,” Isabella said, setting her basket to the side.
“We must move slowly and quietly. If we frighten him, he will run in a flurry and he may lose his path home.”
Jackie nodded in understanding. They moved very slowly and cautiously as they followed the snow-white bunny to his home.
Isabella didn’t pay much mind to how deep the two had crept into the woods, nor did she remember her own admonition to watch the sky for rain.
Finally, the rabbit stopped just before a burrow at the root of a tree. Isabella and Jackie hid behind a large pine and watched. The rabbit stood up, sniffing the air one last time to check for danger before quickly darting into his home.
“Let’s go, too,” Jackie said with innocence.
Before Isabella could respond, a giant droplet of water made its way through the trees and landed right on top of Isabella's bonnet. She looked up, remembering the darkening sky. Another fat drop of water fell right on her forehead between the dark curls that framed her face.
“Oh dear, I wasn’t paying attention. Jackie, we must hurry home before we get soaked.”
“We haven’t collected our caterpillars yet,” Jackie said to the sky.
It seemed to Isabella that Jacqueline was telling the sky to hold off on its autumn downpour. Unfortunately, it didn’t listen.
Isabella and Jackie ran from tree to tree seeking some shelter from the torrential downpour of rain. By the time they got back to the meadow, they were both soaked to the bone.
Isabella wrapped her own woolen shawl around Jacqueline’s pelisse hoping to keep as much cold and moisture off of her as possible. Running as fast as she could in her soaked petticoats, Isabella scooped up the basket of treasures and empty jar and made her way, Jackie in hand, back up to the manor house.
By the time they made it to the service entrance at the side of the house, Isabella could scarcely see in front of her, so thick were the sheets of rain coming down.
She hurried Jackie inside to the protection of the house. She found Mrs. Murray waiting for them in the dining hall.
“Oh, I was worried something fierce over you two lasses,” she said coming to them and peeling off Jacqueline’s sopping shawl hat and jacket.
“The rain just came so suddenly,” Isabella said through chattering teeth.
“Well, we best get the wee lass upstairs. I’ll have a nice hot bath made for her.”
Isabella nodded in agreement, but before she could make a move, Mrs. Peterson entered the room.
“Miss Watts, I would like a word with you, if you please,” she said curtly.
“Can it not wait till they’ve had a chance to get some fresh, dry clothes on?” Mrs. Murray replied, having no fear of the housekeeper like all the other servants.
“It’s alright,” Isabella assured the nurse. “I will be but a moment and join you both upstairs.”
Without a further word, Mrs. Peterson turned on her heels in her usual fashion, expecting Isabella follow. She did as was expected and accompanied the housekeeper to her small office.
Isabella stood for a moment before the harsh wooden desk in the small office. There was no sound save the rustling of Mrs. Peterson’s keys and the dripping of Isabella’s skirts.
Mrs. Peterson had originally been as equally unkind and unfeeling toward Isabella as she was to the rest of the servants. That had changed, as of late. Since the change of her living quarters and the daily invitations to dine with the family, Mrs. Peterson had taken on a particular dislike for Isabella.
She was now continually interjecting herself, not only into every movement that Isabella made, but also into Jacqueline’s education. Isabella was an affront to the propriety Mrs. Peterson made it her mission to uphold in the Wintercrest household.
“I don’t like to discuss matters with His Grace concerning the running of his staff unless absolutely necessary,” Mrs. Peterson began, her cool brown eyes looking hard on Isabella. “I feel I have no choice after today.”
“No choice about what?” Isabella asked, confused.
“You took young Miss Jacqueline out in abysmal weather, brought her back chilled to the bone, and quite possibly caused her to catch her death. I cannot sit by silently when such frivolous liberties are taken with a young child’s health.”
“You speak as if I purposefully took her out into the rain,” Isabella retorted, shocked at what she was hearing. “We go out every afternoon, as His Grace has instructed us to do. Naturally, I meant to keep today's exercise short, but we unfortunately still got caught in the rain. I hurried her home as quickly as was possible.”
“I don’t care to hear your excuses,” Mrs. Peterson waved off. “I am in charge of seeing this house run smoothly and I cannot do so if I am constantly watching over you and the decisions you make. I am sorry to say that I will be recommending that His Grace remove you from employment.”
“Remove me from employment?” Isabella stammered, shocked at the accusations and threats thrown at her.
Isabella knew keenly that this action had nothing to do with her ability to teach, or even care for, Jacqueline. It had everything to do with her friendship with Lord Bellfourd and Lady Abigail. Mrs. Peterson was looking for any reason to remove her and find what she deemed a more suitable replacement.
“You would honestly go to the Duke of Wintercrest, while he is still very much frail, and burden him with such a trivial event. It was nothing more than an accident. I never meant to keep Jacqueline out in poor weather. The duke, himself, was the one who instructed me to take Jacqueline on daily walks. I can't imagine he would dismiss me because one such event had a poor ending.”
Mrs. Peterson seemed to think this over. Was it really worthwhile to disturb His Grace, when he was already so frail of body, with the worrisome obligation of replacing a governess?
“I suppose you are right,” Mrs. Peterson said, standing and placing her hands in front of her. “I will take it up with Lord Bellfourd instead. Please stay in your room for the remainder of the evening until I send for you.”
Mrs. Peterson waved her hand by way of excusing Isabella from the room. Isabella was stunned into silence, something she would admit almost never happened to her. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before turning on her heels and storming out of the room.