Dear Miss Isabella Watts,
I am hoping that my letter finds you in good health. I am writing to inform you that your first quarter of income was delivered to me, per the agreement made with Mr. Smith. I will be sending it to you post haste along with this letter.
I hope that you have settled in well in your new position as governess of Wintercrest Manor.
I do have one other matter that I would like to bring to your attention. Since your departure and the subsequent liquidation of your father’s assets, Mr. Smith has been most adamant in learning your whereabouts.
Because of his coarse nature, he has been to see me at least six times since your departure about this matter. I have chosen to keep your location from him. Though he may be a gentleman, I fear he may not have gentlemanly thoughts in mind on account of your situation.
Though he was not happy that I would not divulge your employment to him, I thought he had decided to finally give up on this venture and move on with his life.
I was sadly mistaken. I found, just last Tuesday, an advertisement in The Morning Chronicle for information pertaining to your location, which even alluded that you are wanted in questioning of a criminal nature.
I have enclosed a clipping of said article with this letter. Though I still don’t think it is wise to make known your location to Mr. Smith, I fear something must be done to appease the man. I fear he will otherwise never stop his pursuit of you, Miss Watts.
I wait for your reply as to what you would like me to do in such matters.
Your humble servant,
Mr. Jenkins
Isabella looked into the large envelope the letter had arrived in. Inside was a small sum of money, which she promptly hid inside a false book on her bookshelf, and the newspaper clipping.
Attention!
One Miss Isabella Watts is wanted in the question of items missing from the possession of a Mr. Smith of J. Watts Shipping & Trade Co. If any information can be given on the above-stated female’s location, please contact Mr. Smith at his place of business for a small compensation.
Isabella gripped her necklace in horror. He had gone so far as to call her an outright thief in The Morning Chronicle. All of this because she refused to give up her very own locket to his greedy paws.
Her heart beat fast and her palms were clammy at the thought. Would anyone in the area receive The Morning Chronicle? It was a London paper, widely distributed in town, but she wasn’t sure that its popularity would travel so far up north.
The only person who she thought might have such a thing delivered was the duke himself, probably the last person in the world Isabella would want to read such a thing.
She grew even more nervous as she thought back to all the breakfasts she shared with the family. Often, the post and various newspapers would be delivered to Lord Bellfourd at this time for him to look over.
She hastily looked back at the date of the letter. The papers Lord Bellfourd received would be a few days behind what was posted in London due to travel. Perhaps if she had time, she could intercept the offending paper before it reached his hands.
It had been only three days since the letter was posted to her. More than likely, she would have to act quickly if she was going to prevent anyone in the house from coming upon the article.
She hoped that if she sent Mr. Smith the charm with no postscript, he would leave the whole matter be. She cherished her locket dearly, but keeping it was not worth giving up her new home.
Sadly, she knew in her heart, it was not the locket that Mr. Smith truly wanted but her demise. No matter what she did to appease him, he would always find another way to come at her and disgrace her further.
She sank down onto her bed, full of hopelessness. She thought back to the words she heard the Μarquess had spoken to Lady Lydia just that afternoon.
He had said she was a friend to all the household. Would he consider her as such if he knew the devious thing she had done before arriving?
Collapsing entirely onto her mattress, she let her tears run down her cheeks. Despite the knowledge that giving Mr. Smith the locket wouldn’t do much to help her situation, she knew she must do it anyway. Though she knew he would do everything in his power to disgrace and belittle her at every turn, she would not let her attachment to a charm open the way for Mr. Smith to come into her life yet again.
Two days later, when Isabella was able to find some free time, she walked back the way to town, this time with a much more sullen countenance and a noticeable weight removed from around her neck, to deliver a parcel to the postmaster.
She also sent a letter to Mr. Jenkins, thanking him for his continued friendship as well as the information pertaining to Mr. Smith. She informed him that she had done everything in her power to recompense the wrong Mr. Smith believed she had caused him. Isabella prayed that this would finally be the end of the matter.
Unfortunately, she was sadly mistaken when she returned home that evening. One of the lady’s maids was sent to her room with a note from Lady Lydia. It stated that Lady Lydia requested her presence for a short private conversation and Isabella was to meet her in the garden at her earliest convenience.
With fall starting to creep in, Isabella grabbed her warmest shawl and made her way out again at once to see what Lady Lydia could want.
Ironically, Isabella found Lady Lydia sitting on Isabella’s favorite stone bench with a book in hand. As dusk was beginning to fall, she couldn’t imagine that Lady Lydia was actually reading by the quickly dimming light.
“Oh, good. I was worried you weren’t going to get my letter. Come and have a seat by me, dear,” she said closing her book and patting the cold stone next to her.
Lady Lydia was being awfully kind and even bordered on cheerfulness. It was not a good start, in Isabella’s mind.
“Isn’t it a funny thing that us two girls from London’s finest ladies’ school end up here together so far north?”
“I suppose so,” Isabella said, coolly trying to measure where the conversation was going.
“Clearly, you must know what my mother and I have intended for this visit. In fact, I might be so bold to say Her Grace, herself, wishes it to be so,” Lady Lydia said with a proud air.
“So, it must be quite obvious that I have a concern for the wellbeing of Wintercrest, including who Lord Bellfourd and Lady Abigail associate themselves with.”
Isabella swallowed hard. She still could not determine what game Lady Lydia was playing.
“Imagine my surprise, when, just this morning, I noticed this on the back of The Morning Chronicle which Lord Bellfourd had in his hand.”
She opened the book to her page, and Isabella saw that she had not been reading the literature but rather a copy of Mr. Smith’s inquiry.
“I wanted to bring it to Lady Wintercrest attention immediately, fearing that a criminal might have infiltrated their household. In the end, however, I thought I might lay the case before you to see if some sort of recompense could be made.”
Isabella narrowed her green eyes at the horrid lady. She planned to use her new knowledge as a means of blackmail. It certainly wasn’t below the typical scheming that Isabella had seen from her, during their years at Mrs. Mason’s School for Exceptional Young Ladies.
She knew fully well that Lady Lydia would use any means necessary to get the results she desired. Right now, that desire was focused on becoming the future Duchess of Wintercrest.
“I have returned the item in question just today. I don’t see how you can use such things to your advantage.”
“Oh, on the contrary, I see it very well. It matters not if you attempted to resolve your criminal act. It was done all the same. Can you honestly say that the duke would still want you in his house if this was brought to his attention?”
Isabella thought this over. She wasn’t sure if the duke would see things Lady Lydia’s way or not. Either way, his state had only worsened, she had been told, and she wouldn’t dream of bringing anything to his attention that might weaken him in any way. For the health of her employer, she would submit to Lady Lydia’s will. She may not have particularly gotten along with the duke, but he was a good, honest man that didn’t need any more hardship on his plate right now.
“What do you want of me, Lydia?” Isabella said exasperatedly.
Lady Lydia formed her slightly rounded face into a satisfied grin. She knew she had Isabella right where she wanted her. Dare she say, a childhood dream finally come true.
“I have a short list of demands, if you would like to continue your employment here at Wintercrest Manor,” Lady Lydia said in a joyfully baneful way.