Isabella held the memory of Christian’s hand in hers as she lay in bed. She had yet to open her eyes, but she knew that dawn was drawing near. The repetition of his words in her mind seemed to melt away all her fears.
The pile of letters she kept hidden in the bottom drawer of her dresser held no weight. It didn’t scare her now. A part of her considered writing back to Mr. Smith. She wanted to tell him that she had been blessed with the affection of the duke and that he no longer had power over her. She was proud.
With Lady Lydia out of the house, and the family beginning to heal from their wounds, it was only a matter of time before all of Isabella’s happiness would be complete.
She only dared share her joy with Lady Louisa through correspondence. It was too delicate a matter—too unsure of a thing, as of yet—to tell anyone else. It was a terrible burden to hide her excitement from others, especially as she had grown so close to Betsy and Lady Abigail.
***
With the beginning of spring, Isabella was about to complete her first year as a governess. She was happy to say that her student had changed and grown much over the last year. The most significant being, of course, her use of the English language.
Isabella particularly enjoyed this improvement because it created a deep bond between the child and her nurse. Something Isabella feared greatly was that Jacqueline would miss the maternal care that most little girls received.
With Mrs. Murray to take care of her, Isabella was assured that Jacqueline; though she, of course, could never replace her own mother, had a proper stand in. She was now able to write much on her own to her mother back in France.
Isabella was happy that even with the English Channel between them, Jacqueline was able to have a relationship with one of her parents. Of course, she had never met her father, but Isabella had made it a priority, over the last year, for the child to be aware of him, and even encouraged the household to speak of him to Jacqueline.
Isabella understood why, up until her coming, the family had rarely spoken of their deceased member. It was a painful thing, even to talk of happy memories, because it also carried unhappy reminders of departure with it.
It wasn’t an easy hurdle to overcome, as Isabella had learned as a child. In fact, she supposed it was her mother’s own early departure from life, and learning how to live with a grief-stricken father, that gave her the tools necessary to help the Wintercrest family overcome their own painful feelings toward sharing memories.
“Miss Watts!” Jacqueline called excitedly as Isabelle entered the school room. “It’s happening! It’s happening!”
“What’s happening, my dear?”
“The caterpillars, they are coming out of their shells!”
Jackie was bouncing up and down with joy, her golden ringlets free-flowing around her as she tugged on her governess’ arm.
“Lil lass has been a ball of excitement all morning,” Mrs. Murray said, coming into the room from the nursery. “I barely got her rags out this morning. She has been nothin’ but wiggles.”
Mrs. Murray had a pink silk ribbon in her hand that she was still hoping to get into the child’s hair. She was by no means irritated by the girl’s fidgety behavior this morning. In fact, it seemed that Jackie’s excitement had been caught by her nurse—she moved with lightness in her step. There was certainly more bounce in her movements than usual.
“The only way I got the lass to eat this morning was to move her little critter right to the table so she could continue to watch.”
“Here, Mrs. Murray,” Isabella said, reaching out for the ribbon. “I will happily place the ribbon. I suspect there will be no point in arithmetic this morning, as it seems Mother Nature has made other plans today.”
Isabella took the ribbon and tied it to pull back a portion of Jackie’s hair away from her face. Jackie was hopping up and down in place with her head close to the jar. Isabella suspected it was the best that could be done.
They spent the morning watching as their little friend slowly made his way out of his cocoon and stretched his wings. Jackie was so enthralled that Isabella was right to estimate that no other school work would be done that day.
When Betsy arrived at the schoolroom with the noonday meal, the newly emerged friend was just starting to flutter his wings in earnest.
“Oh, Miss Watts, can’t we take him outside now?” Jackie asked, too interested to eat.
“Let us have our meal first. Then, afterward, we will take him outside and see if he is ready to use his wings.”
Jackie wasn’t happy about having to wait but she was an obedient child and went to fetch her nurse for their luncheon.
Isabella wasn’t entirely sure if Jackie had actually eaten anything. She spent the whole meal telling Mrs. Murray a moment by moment account of what had been happening in the jar, from the second Mrs. Murray had left the room in the morning until the second they sat for lunch.
“Miss Watts, may we take the jar outside now?” Jackie asked as plates and teacups were returned to the tray to be picked up.
“Let us look out the window first to make sure that the weather is fine enough for him. I wouldn’t want to let him go if it was still chilly.”
“Why not?”
“Well, he has been warm and comfortable here in your schoolroom. The fire has made it warm and cozy in here, while it was cold and snowing outside. His delicate wings cannot handle extreme cold.”
Isabella walked her ward over to the large windows draped behind curtains. She pulled them back and gave a look out the window to the manicured gardens below and sky above.
There was a dark green sheen of moisture. That seemed almost always to be the case, so it wasn’t much of a concern. Isabella instead studied the clouds.
She had learned once, the hard way, what happened when a storm came suddenly and wasn’t going to make that mistake again if she could help it. Isabella studied the clouds carefully and determined that they were non-threatening.
“I suppose it is safe enough for us to take our afternoon exercise now,” Isabella said to the squeals and delight of her student.
Isabella helped Jackie into her long coat, gloves, and fur muffler. Though it was spring now, and flowers were becoming more frequent in bloom, the wind could still have a bitter chill to it.
“I’ve heard something exciting has been going on in here,” a deep voice called from the doorway.
Isabella turned her focus from her pupil to the gentleman taking over most of the doorway. Her face instantly lit with a smile as it so often did at his presence.
The Duke of Wintercrest ducked his head out of habit as he crossed the threshold. Though the doors in the manor were tall enough, even for his height, Isabella suspected that wasn’t the case on the ship, forcing him to drop his rusty head below their lower level.
“Oh, Uncle Christian, the caterpillar is now a butterfly. We are going to go outside and let him fly,” Jackie said, still full of energy.
“What a fun adventure. You must have the best governess in all the land,” the duke said, crouching before his niece but winking up at Isabella.
Isabella blushed and looked away. Though they had agreed to keep their engagement a secret, Isabella couldn’t help but think that they probably weren’t very good at it. Most especially Christian, who seemed to find any and every excuse to spend time with her.
“I hope you won’t mind terribly if I tag along?" the duke asked, already knowing the answer.
When his niece nodded affirmatively, the duke stood to take his lady’s arm. Jackie grabbed the jar from the small table where it had resided through the colder seasons, and together they went outside.
They walked in silence for a time, while Jackie found just the perfect spot to release the creature.
Though Isabella was wearing her thicker woolen shawl, she still felt the bite of the cold whenever the wind blew. She pulled herself closer to the duke for warmth. He smiled down at her as he covered her gloved hand with his leather-gloved one inside the crook of his arm.
Isabella didn’t miss, however, that the smile didn’t quite reach up to his blue eyes. She watched him closely as they continued to walk. She could see there was a deep weight on his shoulders.
Finally, Jackie decided on a small garden cove with early bulb blooms for the new butterfly’s home. She released the lid from the jar and watched as he fluttered out. Jackie chased him around the garden as he dipped from one fresh flower to the next.
Isabella took the time, when Jackie was completely distracted,to address her concerns with the duke’s current countenance. They were walking around a small gravel path that kept the garden separate from any other.
“There is something bothering you, Your Grace." Isabella stated. "If you need someone to talk to, I would be happy to listen.”
The duke smiled down at her, enjoying the fact that she knew him well enough to notice his distress.
“Well, my dear Isabella, my mother informed me this morning that she has decided to plan a very large ball.”
“A ball?” Isabella asked, a little surprised herself. “I wouldn’t have thought her up to such a task.”
“Well, it was after receiving encouragement from Lady Cunningham that mother decided on this course of action. According to Lady Cunningham’s advice, the distraction will benefit her greatly, as well as give myself the opportunity to be officially introduced as Duke of Wintercrest.”
He added this ending as if he still wasn’t sure how the name suited him. He had changed names, and with it, part of his identity, far too much over the last few years.
“I guess, for those reasons, it seems logical,” Isabella said, still trying to understand why the duchess would want to take on such a responsibility as she still healed.
“It’s all a ruse," the duke said, heated with irritation. “Lady Cunningham, and even my mother, are just looking for another way to push Lady Lydia to me.”
Though Isabella was secure in her faith that the duke had meant his words when he confessed his love, she still couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.
The duke stopped abruptly on the path and turned to Isabella. He reached up and cupped her face in his hands. Isabella closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. They were as completely secluded as they would ever be, and the duke wanted to take advantage of the moment.
He leaned his head down so that their foreheads touched. The duke absorbed the electricity building from their closeness. Isabella, too, felt herself melting against his touch.
"Let us announce our engagement now,” he whispered softly to her.
Isabella opened her eyes and leaned her head back from him. Isabella was sure he was teasing. It was still far too close to the death of his father for such a thing. He looked down on her, full of love and honesty.
“Christian, telling your mother we are engaged won’t stop the ball from happening,” Isabella said, trying to lighten the mood.
The duke gave her a half smile. He wrapped one arm around her waist and held her cheek with his other.
“I don’t care about the ball. I mean yes, of course I am dreading it. I hate balls," he answered her raised brow. “But, more than that, I don’t want this to be a secret anymore. I want you at my side that night.”
“I just think it’s too soon,” Isabella said. Emotion caught in her throat as she said her true fear, “I think it would be better for you to take extra time, Your Grace.” She took a step back from his embrace. The world seemed much colder.
“Extra time for what?” He asked, clearly hurt by her actions.
“Time to think things through with a clear head. Your mother isn’t the only one taking on an enormous amount right now. You might see things differently in the future. I don’t want you to feel bound if you change your mind.”
“Change my mind?” the duke questioned in disbelief. He took another step toward her and took both her hands in his. “Isabella, I have no concern that my feelings for you will fade or clear. I would ride with you to Gretna Green if you would allow me.”
Isabella looked on him, filled with her own concern. “What of your mother? I am not a proper lady.”
“Had I been just Captain Grant instead of Duke of Wintercrest, would your feelings for me change?”
“Of course not,” Isabella answered quickly.
“That is why I love you, why I want you to be by my side through life. I think no less of you without your father’s title. My conviction will not waiver. Not today, tomorrow, or even a year from now. Though, God forbid, you make me wait so long,” he added with a wicked smile.
She softened too with his encouraging words. She held his hands softly with her own. Isabella looked up at him shyly and he relaxed, knowing he had convinced her to wash away any worry.
“Uncle Christian?” a small voice called a little way up the path. “Are you in love with Miss Watts?” Jackie asked with an innocent romanticism as she observed their held hands between them. Her cheeks were rosy from the whipping wind and chasing the butterfly.
“I am afraid I am hopelessly so,” His Grace said, coming down to the child’s level. “But we need to keep it a secret for just a little while longer.”
“Until the ball,” he continued, looking back up at Isabella, “when I will announce our engagement to all.”
Isabella smiled down at her future husband as he shared their secret with his niece. She nodded in agreement. She found it to be a sufficient compromise. Isabella wanted him to have time to adjust to his new way of life before adding more to it. Waiting till the ball seemed like the right choice to her.