Isoline laid in her bed and waited for him to come. Strangely, he had not appeared since the night of passion they shared together. It wasn’t that she necessarily wanted him to appear—he always made her life so complicated when he did—she was just surprised at his long absence. The last time he had been gone this long was after she told him about her engagement to Cyril and he was angry with her. But this time, she had not told him about Auberon. In fact, they had left on good terms. Very good terms, she recalled with a slight trembling low in her stomach at the thought. She wouldn’t mind a repeat of that night. One that aroused her senses to such a height she thought she would explode. She imagined that someday she would get to enjoy such passion with Auberon. But so far, they’d had to limit their intimate exchanges to stolen kisses and delicate touches. She couldn’t risk bringing reproach on herself or on her aunt’s house.

Especially when she was so close to being named as Bellamira’s heir. At least, she assumed she would be. Bellamira had said no more on the matter, and Isoline was too afraid to ask about it. She couldn’t risk angering the old woman now, not when she was so close to having everything: a man she loved, an inheritance, and being accepted by her family. She knew her father would be thrilled if he learned that Isoline had succeeded in becoming an heiress. She imagined that Auberon was probably right. That her father would be so happy he wouldn’t care what she did with the rest of her life. Become an old maid or marry a nobody, it wouldn’t mean anything to him. Becoming an heiress would make Isoline completely free to make her own choices in life.

And Isoline would choose Auberon.

She was so giddy with excitement at the prospect, she didn’t even hear the knock at the front door.

“Mr. Lloyd Harper,” Talbot announced, surprising Isoline so that she nearly fell out of her reading chair. She jumped to her feet unceremoniously and walked over to greet the man.

“I am Isoline Beresford,” she said. “Lady Payne’s niece.”

“Miss Beresford,” the man said, smiling and shaking her hand excitedly. “I have heard so much about you. I am Mr. Harper, your aunt’s solicitor.”

“Oh!” Isoline gasped. “My aunt told me we were expecting you, but she didn’t tell me the day.”

“I didn’t know exactly myself,” he said. “I have several clients out of York, so I try to arrange visits with as many people out of town as possible when I can.”

“That makes sense,” Isoline said as James walked in with a tea tray. “Can I offer you some tea?”

“I’d be delighted,” he said, accepting a cup. “Now that autumn is in full swing, it can get quite nippy out there.”

“Quite,” Isoline agreed. “I’m from the south, so these cool mornings rather snuck up on me.”

“I’m sure they did,” he said, sipping at his tea. “But I gather you plan to settle in the area, so I am sure you will get used to them.”

Isoline wasn’t sure how to respond to that. What did he mean by settle? Did he mean stay in the area of her own accord? Marry Auberon? Inherit the estate and thus have to live here? She didn’t know, and she was unsure of how to ask.

She tried to open her mouth to ask further, but nothing came out. But it didn’t matter because just then Talbot returned.

“Her ladyship offers her apologies, but she wondered if she could see you in her sitting room, Mr. Harper,” he said.

“Of course,” Mr. Harper replied, returning his cup to the tray. “If you will excuse me, Miss Beresford.”

She nodded, and he left the room quickly. No one would leave Lady Payne waiting. Isoline couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that Bellamira didn’t send for her as well. After all, if they were discussing her future, shouldn’t she be involved? She sighed and sat back on the sofa and waited, her chin in her hand.

As the clock over the mantle ticked, Isoline paced. Every so often, she peeked out of the room and up the stairs to see if Mr. Harper was returning, but she neither heard nor saw anything for what seemed like hours, but it could very well have been only a few minutes.

Just when she was about to go mad with waiting, she heard a door upstairs open. She closed the door to the parlor and snuck back to the sofa with her book. She didn’t want Mr. Harper to think that she had been anxiously waiting for him. But he never returned to the parlor. She heard voices in the hall, but they weren’t getting any closer. Wasn’t he going to speak to her? Tell her if the will had been changed in her favor? Shouldn’t she be told about what to expect in the future? When she heard the front door open, she could be patient no longer and threw open the parlor door.

“Mr. Harper?” she called. He looked back at her, his foot halfway out the door, his hat on his head, and his face blanched as if he had just been caught cheating on his wife.

“M-M-Miss Isoline,” he finally stammered. “Do forgive me, but I simply have a mountain of work to do and must return to my office immediately.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “I was only going to offer you something warm to drink before you head out.”

“I only wish I had the time,” he said as he doffed his hat. “Perhaps another time.”

“Of course,” she barely got out before he flew out of the house like a specter was on his tail. “How very odd,” she muttered to Talbot as he closed the door.

He shrugged. “Lawyers usually are.”

She lingered in the hall for a moment, wondering if her aunt might send for her, informing her of her sudden change in circumstances, but nothing happened. She finally returned to her book in the parlor, but she simply could not concentrate enough to read and left the book marked on the same page she had found it when she retired that evening.

“Oh, Auberon!” she shrieked when he unveiled the painting to her several days later in the parlor. “It’s beautiful! Truly!” She could not resist hugging him, she was so overjoyed with how exquisite the painting was. “I cannot believe you painted so much of this from memory.”

“It is hard for me to forget your face,” he said, and she blushed. He reached over and touched her cheek. “You are so beautiful when you are embarrassed.”

She playfully slapped his hand away. “You are making it worse!” And they laughed. “I wonder where in the house we will hang it.”

“Right across from the front door, I think,” Auberon said. “That way people will always be greeted by your lovely face.”

“That seems rather presumptuous,” Isoline said. “I don’t want to force people to look at me.”

“I’m sure they will see it as a gift,” Auberon replied.

Isoline shook her head. He was incorrigible. She leaned over to get a closer look at what looked like scribbles on the bottom right corner of the painting.

“You signed it?” she asked. “Did you think I would forget who painted it?”

He laughed. “All artists must sign their work,” he explained. “Otherwise, in a hundred years, who will know who created the art with so much love.”

Isoline’s heart swelled. Truly, she could feel his love in every stroke of the brush he had used to immortalize her on canvas.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Bellamira said as she entered the room. “James said you were insisting I come down. Well, here I am. What is so important?”

“Auberon has brought a gift,” Isoline said, and she moved out of the way so her aunt could see the painting.

Bellamira did not smile when she saw the painting. In fact, her face didn’t change at all.

“Don’t…don’t you like it?” Isoline asked. “He’s been working on it for weeks.”

“So, the painter has painted a painting, has he?” Bellamira asked as though annoyed. “Shall we throw him a parade?”

“N-no,” Isoline stammered, confused as to why her aunt was upset. “I…I just thought you would like it. I think it is beautiful.”

“It is truly one of my best pieces, Lady Payne,” Auberon said with an air of humility, not boastfulness. “I had your tastes in mind as I worked on it.”

“Is that so?” Bellamira asked in nearly a whisper, but she did not look at him. She stepped closer to the painting to get a better look. She stared at it for some minutes, finally reaching her hand up and barely touching what looked like the soft ruffles of the dress Isoline was wearing in it.

“What do you think?” Isoline tried again. “Where shall we hang it?”

“Get out,” Bellamira said so quietly, Isoline thought she must not have heard her aunt correctly.

“Auntie?” Isoline asked. “What was that?”

“I said get out,” she said again, this time with more force, and Isoline’s heart dropped like a stone. Why would her aunt be kicking her out? What had she done?

“Aunt?” Isoline asked, near to tears. “What’s wrong? What have I done?”

“Not you,” Bellamira snapped, turning and pointing a finger at Auberon. “You! Get out!” she ordered. “I don’t want to see you here again.”

“Lady Payne,” Auberon said with a calmness Isoline could barely understand, she was so near to tears. “Why are you angry? Is this not what you wanted?”

“What do you know?” Bellamira yelled, as much as a woman as frail as she now seemed could yell. “Thoughtless, selfish boor! Get out! I never want you in this house again!”

Auberon frowned, but finally he gave a curt bow and walked out without even a goodbye to either of them.

“Why did you do that?” Isoline asked, tears streaming down her face. “What…what did he do?”

“Never you mind,” Bellamira snapped. “Talbot! Talbot, take this dreadful thing away,” she said, indicating the painting of Isoline. “Take it up to…up to the princess room and lock the door. I don’t ever want to see it again.”

Now Isoline was thoroughly confused and scared. Why would her aunt want the painting of her locked up?

“I…I don’t understand, auntie,” Isoline cried. “Have I offended you in some way?”

“Your very presence offends me at this moment,” Bellamira said as she followed Talbot out of the room with the painting. “I don’t want to hear any more of this nonsense between you and Auberon, do you hear me?”

Isoline nodded as she followed Bellamira out of the room. “Of course. Whatever you say.”

Isoline wasn’t really going to give Auberon up so easily, but she would say anything at this moment to calm her aunt down. Later, she could decide what to do about Auberon. But for right now, she needed to placate her aunt enough to keep from ending up out on her own rear end. Auberon at least had his cottage to go to. If Bellamira dismissed, Isoline, she would have nowhere to go and no hope for the future.

“Just go to your room,” Bellamira ordered Isoline. “I don’t wish to be bothered any further tonight.”

“Yes, auntie,” Isoline said as she flew up the stairs to her room. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”

She went to her room and shut the door. She waited a moment, and then peeked out to watch as Bellamira made sure that Talbot put the painting in a room down the hall—the room that had the other painting of Isoline and the one of Bellamira—and lock the door. Isoline then quickly shut her door so that Bellamira would not see her and be irritated by her further.

She sat on her bed and could do nothing but wait.

Isoline…

Her eyes shot open. She must have dozed off. There was nothing else for her to do while she waited for her aunt to decide about her future. But when she sat up, she was surprised that she was still in her room, not the glade she usually woke up in when he called to her.

“…Isoline…”

She realized that it had not been his voice she had heard that woke her, but someone else’s. She crept to the door and opened it slightly. Yes, someone was definitely speaking in the foyer, but she couldn’t make out any of the words. She opened the door enough for her to sneak out and she crawled to the banister that surrounded the gallery.

She could hear two voices now, but they were speaking in low tones, so she couldn’t make out anything more than a word or name here and there. She peeked over the top of the railing to see who it was, and she nearly shrieked when she saw who it was.

Tristan!

She felt sick to her stomach. Why would he be here? In the house? And he had been speaking to Aunt Bellamira. Why would she listen to a single word he had to say?

She knew that she should stay and try to find out what they were talking about, but she also feared that she would throw up any moment. She crept back to her room and shut the door behind her, locking it for good measure. The very idea of Tristan being in the same house as she filled her with dread.

She ran to her chamber pot and retched into the bowl. How could Bellamira trust him? Of course, she had no idea what Tristan wanted, why he was calling. Perhaps he had come to apologize. But even then, Isoline was not ready to forgive him. She did not think she ever could. He had tried to assault her, hurt her, ruin her life. He did not deserve forgiveness.

She looked up and saw a curtain flutter in the breeze. She ran to the window to make sure it was locked tight. She knew it was irrational, but she feared Tristan somehow getting into her room. As she checked and double-checked the latch, she saw something—no, someone—move in the garden out of the corner of her eye. But when she looked again, she saw nothing.

Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. Maybe it was Auberon. Maybe he was keeping an eye on her from a distance, making sure she was safe. She hoped so. She had never felt more afraid than she did right now.

She heard the heavy front door to the house close with a thud. Tristan must have left, but she couldn’t know for sure. She couldn’t see the front of the house from her room. She held her breath, waiting to see if Bellamira would stop by her room to talk about what happened. She hoped they could still work things out. But Bellamira did not come to her room. Neither did Bess. In fact, no one came to her room for the rest of the night. Not to help her undress. Not to bring her a meal tray. Nothing. Thankfully, Isoline did have a glass of water and a biscuit jar in her room, so she didn’t starve, but she would have appreciated something more substantial to eat.

The night grew dark quickly, and there was nothing for Isoline to do except worry. Finally, Isoline undressed herself and pulled on her nightdress. She climbed into bed and laid there for hours, drifting off as the morning birds were already tweeting.