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  She quietly consented, with a full mix of feelings exiting with her.

  At the foot of the Capriolé steps, Mr. Whentworth turned to face Isabella square on, and she pulled her cloak closer to her, more to brace herself for what was to come than the biting air.

  "Do forgive my improprieties and for being so forthright, but you have blossomed into an extraordinarily beautiful woman, Miss Audley."

  Isabella felt her heart lurch at the sound of his voice, filled with such compliments, and suddenly was aware that she had become incomprehensibly shy, which was so versus her nature. Still she said nothing.

  On the spur of the moment, his next words caught her so unguarded there was no time to prepare herself. He leaned as close to her ear as he could, and began a throaty whisper. "Miss Audley, I would like to ask you to accompany me to the Aitchison's annual Christmas Ball in a fortnight." He waited for her response.

  For a split second she seemed to enjoy the proximity so much, that a relaxed smile crept across her face, accompanied by a dreamy look, but she quickly gained control. She turned to face Thomas, still smiling, and said, "Do you think me foolish, Mr. Whentworth? How extraordinarily braw of you to attempt such a stunt twice in your lifetime," she said, and waited.

  Now uncomfortable, he shifted his weight in the snow, and made some off-handed comment to the horse which now stood directly behind him, before turning back to Isabella.

  She noticed how boyish he looked, and had it not been for the four lost hours of her life spent alone on a hot August night many years ago, she would have forgiven him anything; here, in the snow, under the romantic glow of the street lamps, with her favorite time of year now in full season.

  He must have noticed her effusive gleam, for he moved closer to her still, and gently, with a gloved hand, gathered up her bare hands—which were now bluish from the cold—looked her in the eyes, and quietly whispered, "I offer my apologies for leaving you alone that evening." He waited for the onslaught of emotion that he had been sure would follow, but when Isabella stood there looking at him in silence, he continued. "I have put myself through ample punishment these many years, I can assure you. Accompany me to dinner on Thursday evening and I will explain all."

  She was suddenly in a quandary as to what she should do: allow this man to destroy her principles with a mere cry of apologia, or put the past behind her and attempt to rebuild a friendship with him. She decided that she did not want to know the answer until she heard it come from her mouth. "Mr. Whentworth, if you have come here on the sole assumption that your mere words, sprinkled with sentiment and caresses, were all that was needed to woo me into a state of compliance, not to mention forgiveness, then you are sorrier than I ever deemed you to be. I do not suffer fools gladly and I regret to inform you, that you are no exception. However, if your purpose was to make me a fool with this diversion, as you are so good at doing, then again, you have found a dead end. If I gave you reason to think anything of our relationship other than acquaintances with no particular attachment, then I do beg your forgiveness."

  "My good lady, you lay grievous offenses at my charge, that would take a man a lifetime to answer; I do not have that kind of time. If this is your pronouncement of me, then who am I to change it? Perhaps my only presumption lie in my hope that you would listen to my rebuttal of such accusations; a man is allowed such, at the least."

  Isabella stood silent at this last reason, and gave it heavy thought. However, her conclusion was only that Mr. Whentworth apparently had not outgrown his own games and she no longer wished to be their brunt. "Mr. Whentworth, it is getting colder, and I must check on my mother, so if you will excuse me," and she turned on her heel to leave.

  Mr. Whentworth called after her again. "Miss Audley, it is merely dinner. I will call upon you tomorrow, to see if perchance you have changed your mind. Good night, Miss Audley." At this, he waited to enter his carriage until he was certain that Isabella had entered her home safely, and as soon as he had appeared, he disappeared into the night.

  Isabella stood alone at her door inside for a moment in the blue silence of the night, watching the carriage drive away until she could no longer see it, wondering why her heart felt as if a piece had suddenly been torn from her.

  Chapter 9

  Of A Most Traitorous Nature

  Of A Most Traitorous Nature (Chapter Nine)

  "My dear sister," said Thomas, as he ceremoniously greeted first Katherine, then his mother.

  Katherine Whentworth's esteem for her older brother had always been evident; each regarded carefully the welfare of the other, and no closer relationship would exist for either.

  Mrs. Whentworth always made merry when her treasured son came for a visit, and spared no preparations. "Thomas, you are looking unwell. Are you eating properly?"

  Thomas had to smile and muse at what a mother's heart must be like. "I assure you Mother, I am eating enough for a regiment."

  "It is my job, so dare not deny me that," said Mrs. Whentworth.

  "How is Father? Has he returned from Paris?" Thomas said.

  "No, I am afraid not. He was scheduled to return this very day, but unfortunately will be detained yet another fortnight. This solitude from him is so extensive that at times I feel I cannot bear it. But, graciously, your sister has been a blessed help, and for that I am truly thankful."

  "He will be returned in time for Christmas, yes?"

  "So he assures me. I received his post just this morning," said Mrs. Whentworth.

  Katherine decided to change the topic to something of a more festive nature. "Mother, I have learned that Mrs. Falkner's daughter, Caroline, has recently become engaged to the most handsome Edward Allwright. He and his fifty thousand a year are to be wed at the next full moon. I so wish we could return to London for the festivities."

  Thomas expressed a snort of disapproval.

  "My dear Thomas," began his mother, "you cannot be ignorant of such matters. If you possess a fortune, then you are in want of a good wife.”

  Thomas made no reply.

  "Are you not aware that many an eligible lady, whom upon learning of your extensive fortune, may, for the sake of sport, make herself a scandalous opportunist that you may never live down?" said Katherine.

  "Why should I give that thought?" said Thomas. "If and when I do ever make an attachment, I assure you, it will be for the burning desires of true love and no lesser value."

  "Perhaps. But how are you to be certain the woman's motives are as pure as your heart? My dear brother, you make yourself a fool to think you are an unworthy target."

  "Your sister is right, Thomas. Our lineage has worked laboriously to retain our good name, and to have that soiled by the likes of one whose only regard is your affluence in exchange for her own social standing is beyond reproach. You are most handsome, and to couple that with the good fortune of monetary sustenance in abundance, makes for a dangerous combination. I caution you to take careful heed of the company you keep."

  "Mother, I assure you, that if I were keeping company, her breeding would be fine enough to appease even your discretion. However, as it turns out, I am keeping no other company other than my own at the present. You may rest easy."

  "Really, Thomas, I find your impropriety distasteful. Were you not, just this past evening, in the company of one widow Audley and her daughter, Isabella?"

  Thomas looked up from his tea. "How did you know about this? Are my goings on now printed for the entire town to read?"

  "Why so infracted? I find this outburst more telling than you would have us believe. Would you agree, Mother?"

  "Indeed I do, and I am surprised at this intrigue. Thomas, I will not demand it of you, but I deeply implore you to share the details of your visit of your own free will, as there is much at stake."

  Thomas was now beyond livid. "Honestly, Mother, your overreactions are wholly unnecessary. Do you not know that Miss Audley and I attended school together and have been acquainted for the better part of our lives? To re
ad anything more into this leaves my mouth as cotton. Re-acquaintance was our only motive since her return from Harvard for holiday; nothing more, I assure you. Is this an answer you can satisfy yourself with so that I may finish my tea in peace?"

  Katherine stood in ire. For one of his caliber and good standing to hold such an insouciant ideology was intolerable, in light of her recent encounter with Miss Audley only the preceding day, and so it was without prior thought, that Katherine blurted out her next statement. "Dear brother, you are not as wholly aware of particulars in matters as you pride yourself. Do you not know, that Miss Audley and her widowed mother, are teetering on the very edge of poverty?" and the words had speed of their own volition.

  Thomas stood, without movement or sound, staring at Katherine, as if struck dumb. Slowly, he looked toward his mother for confirmation.

  She could only nod her affirmative.

  "How long have you known?" he asked of them both.

  "These five days past. It is now to the point where word is spreading faster than they can muzzle the rumor," said Katherine, feigning a sympathetic voice.

  "What makes you think they are attempting to muzzle anything?"

  "Oh Thomas, is it not obvious upon what this woman's attentions and affections are set? It is not you, the dear old friend with which she wished to renew her acquaintance, but you, the handsome, eligible savior that will rescue them from the depths of despair in a most respectable way," said Katherine.

  "Perhaps your logic is flawed, for neither woman mentioned any hint of this to me, and I know Miss Audley—she is too loose with her tongue at times to hold a secret such as this."

  "My dear boy, I am always amazed at your readiness to give doubt to those who probably do not deserve it; it is what I love about you most," said his mother. "Of course they would not share with you such a hatched plan. It would be too shameful and the truth of it might perhaps scare you away forever."

  The gravity of this news was heavy upon Thomas, indeed, for he slowly took a turn around the drawing room in deep thought.

  His passive reaction, however, was too much for Katherine. "Well? What are you thinking? What will you do? Oh, dear brother, your next move will be of crucial social interest to all involved and you must divulge it to us straightaway. What will it be? Oh, I can just see the look on Isabella Audley's face when she is cast aside by all who held her in high esteem. Her loose tongue will not be able to pry her out of this one."

  Thomas stopped. "If that is your good opinion of one with whom you profess admiration, I should hope to never be on the receiving end of its opposite. What could she have possibly done to have changed your admiration of her, or her poor mother?"

  Katherine smiled at her mother and then turned to face him.

  “Isabella, please! Your prancing round this parlor makes the horses in the stable look paralytic. Why the anxiety?”

  Lilly had come to read Isabella’s moods better than her own.

  “Oh, I am not anxious, mother! Really. You do jump to conclusions,” she said, as she smoothed the last of the wrinkles in her best blue evening satin.

  Lilly was not to be fooled, however. “If you say so, dear.”

  It was another ten minutes before Lilly deigned to break the silence. “So what time did he say he would call?”

  Isabella stopped her pacing to stare out the front door. “Really, mother. You know how I love the way the blue dusk shimmers onto the fresh snow. I am just enjoying the scenery, as they say,” she said, as she secretly noted the time on the mantle piece to be half-six. She tried to calm her twitching hands in a futile attempt to erase the burning memory of that sweltering August night when reality hit her: when a man sets his affections on a woman, he will stop at nothing to bring that union about. Affectations and sentiments, however, are not to be trusted at face value, for deceit lies at the heart of its intent. The proof of this lie in the numerous acquaintances of Izzy’s who formed attachments quickly, and then resided in unhappy unions, either for the sake of the children, or societal circles. She frowned. It was not to be born.

  A passing carriage on the street below caused her heart to flip, but she resumed her frowning once it continued by the house. Thus she put her disappointed energy into staring at her hands. The less Mother knew this was affecting her, the better.

  “Isabella, do come and sit with me for a bit. You are going to wear a hole into the carpet.”

  Isabella complied, while trying not to appear dejected in doing so.

  But Lilly, being a mother, discerned the matter. “Sweetheart… ”

  “… oh please, Mother, spare me your speeches. I knew this was coming, and quite frankly, I am just not in the mood for one of your lectures.”

  Lilly breathed deeply so as to calm herself. “Look. I know how much this must hurt… ”

  “… no; no you do not. How could you? To be humiliated like this not once, but twice in one’s lifetime? I would rather have pitchforks inserted into my forehead than to have to endure this again, and no, no one understands.”

  “Dearest, you forget that long before I was your mother, I was a young, beautiful woman who had quite a few men lining up to be my potential suitors.”

  Isabella faced her mother.

  Lilly took her silence as an affirmation to continue. “I was not much older than you are now. We had just returned from one of my father’s numerous excursions throughout Europe; back in the city in time for the annual Aitchison Christmas Ball. Oh, it was the social event of the season. If you never attended any other social function, that was the one not to miss. Have I told you previously about the Aitchison Mansion?”

  “No; actually you have not.”

  “Well. The home was an exact replica of the famous Woodchester Mansion; an unfinished Gothic Revival Mansion in Gloucestershire, England. Except, while Lord Aitchison had a reputation for never finishing a thing he started, unlike the Woodchester, he finished this magnificent home for his beautiful bride. But that is another story best suited for a rainy afternoon. You have heard how The Aitchisons got their money, have you not? The old-fashioned way: they inherited it.”

  Both she and Isabella laughed, which filled Lilly with hope that she was on the right path, so she continued, this time with more animation and drama so as to hold Isabella’s interest.

  “It was a fortnight until the ball, when this tall, quite gangly-looking fellow approached me one afternoon and asked if I would be so kind as to escort him. Well, of course I was delighted. I had my eye on this fellow for quite some time.”

  “Who was it, Mother?”

  “All of his friends called him Leaper.”

  Isabella crinkled her nose in question.

  “He, apparently, was quite an athlete, with the broad jump being his specialty.”

  This time she crinkled her nose in distaste. “Oh, dear!”

  “Now, dearest, remember: this was a ball, not a contest for seeing who could bring the man with the silliest hobby. He really was quite comely. Tall, with sandy hair, piercing blue eyes the color of ocean waves, and a smile that could melt your heart.” She sighed.

  “Mother!”

  Lilly grinned. “Sorry darling, I do get carried away. Anyway. It was the night of the ball. I had chosen my finest emerald evening silk with black trim, had my hair coiffed and was too excited. Just to be seen on this man’s arm was a social triumph, and already my girlfriends were quite jealous.”

  “So, what happened?”

  “He never showed.”

  “What?”

  “No, dearest. He was supposed to collect me at seven sharp, and he never showed. By half-eight, I knew he was not coming and I was so emotionally weary from thinking about it, that I changed into my nightgown and went to bed early.”

  “Oh, Mother, how awful for you!”

  “Yes. I had been walking on the clouds since he asked, certain that the evening would be most magical, and then he never showed.”

  “So what happened? What did you finally fin
d out?”

  “Well, it was not until the next day that he called upon me to apologize and explain. It seems his carriage had met with some tragic situation in which the wheel detached, and he spent the entire evening engaged in fixing it.”

  “Really? That was it?”

  “Yes, dear, that was it. He was so heartsick over it, that he spent the next few weeks making it up to me. We saw quite a lot of each other, and I grew to love him.”

  “Mother! But what about Father?”

  Lilly drew in a breath. “Dearest, it was your father.”

  Both women sat in silence for a few moments; Lilly, brushing away a tear of fond remembrance, and Isabella, realizing that perhaps in both instances, she had been much too hard on Thomas for his missed appearances.

  “Mother, I think I will take an evening trip up to The Blackberry Patch Café. I think watching them light the street lamps will do me some good.”

  “I think that is a marvelous idea. Do be careful.”

  Isabella walked over and kissed her mother on the cheek. “Thank you for sharing another part of who Father was.”

  When Isabella had exited the house, Lilly smiled to herself and thanked God above for the family with which she had been truly blessed.

  Another lush, wet snow had just begun to fall as Charles pulled the carriage round to the front of the steps. Before she got in, however, she sneaked a carrot to Porkchop, the faithful sorrel that had been with the family nearly as long as had Charles. After giving his muzzle a pat, she turned to Charles to accept his waiting hand to help her into the carriage.

  “Tell me, Charles, how is Martha? Is she in better health?”

  “Yes ma’am, she is. The doctor is quite hopeful that she will be recovered in a short time. I will tell her you asked about her.”

  Within mere minutes of anticipation, the carriage was heading into the roundabout at the center of town on the square. From this vantage point, one could see all of the town’s holiday decorations, and because they were now against the velvet backdrop of nightfall, the lights' twinkles shown as tiny halos of goodwill. To Isabella, this time of year was filled with nothing but the promise of hope in the New Year to come, and that, alone, would be enough to overcome any tragedy that might befall their family. She was certain that as long as she had Mother, there was nothing they could not face.