Isla smiled, crossing the room to the fire to warm her sore hands, taking care around her scars. “Business waits for nay one,Oliver. Yet now, it waits for me until another day. I have told yer governess to take the rest of the day to herself.”
“Really?”
“Aye, now what swashbucklin’ hero are we with today? Is Captain Beefheart finally sailin’ free of the King’s Navy?”
“He is!” Oliver pushed the book towards her, pointing with a small finger. “But he is trapped in a narrow cove, and they’re setting the fuse to the gunpowder store. He needs a distraction before the whole thing blows to pieces!”
Isla took the seat beside him, leaning in to read the next passage, but quickly abandoned the script for her own. With a bit of improvisation, she knew she could provide a much more animated performance. Her voice shifted, deepening for the villainous captain. Oliver was rapt. His bright blue eyes followed her every move.
“Arr, and when I am done with ye,” Isla read Captain Beefheart’s words aloud, “Ye will nae see the light of day!”
“Something about that tone of voice sounds familiar,” the Duke said as he approached the doorway. “Almost like… your brother?”
“Your Grace,” Isla said, rising to her feet with a crimson flush in her cheeks. “I was gettin’ a bit carried away, readin’ to Oliver.”
“She is the best reader in the whole world, Papa!”
“Is that so? Well, then be on with it. I will not disturb you.”
“But…” Isla said to his back, as he retreated from the threshold and walked down the hall without another word.
Her mind spiraled, desperately trying to steady the whirlwind left by Benedict’s sudden exit. The silence felt enormous. A raw, needy part of her wanted to call out, to have him stop, turn back, and stay with them.
Could we ever simply be a family? Even just for Oliver?
She closed her eyes, and a sharp image formed. His handsome profile leaned toward the page as he read. She thought of his deep, resonant voice, perfectly suited for narrating epic tales.
How fun it would be now, at this very moment, to break the tension that looms around this place and have him read aloud with us…
Perhaps even takin’ on the dramatic persona of Captain Beefheart himself?
The very idea brought a ghost of a smile to her lips, yet a deeper ache to her chest as dutifully she pushed it aside, her thoughts coming back to Oliver.
“Well, where were we? Ah yes, ye willnae see the light of day,” Isla roared, picking up where she had left off.
When the chapter ended with Captain Beefheart escaping by the skin of his teeth, Oliver let out a long, satisfied sigh.
“That was magnificent. Your pirates are much better than the ones I read to myself. Why is that?”
“A pirate needs flair, me lad. And a little too much theatrical commitment if ye ask me,” she chuckled, closing the book. “It seems we both enjoy a thrillin’ escape.”
“You mean like my papa?”
“Speaking of other escapes,” Isla said, hoping to distract him. “I was reading a passage today on Scottish history. Do you know where the Earls of Glencoe stood during the Jacobite Rising?”
Oliver’s interest immediately shifted from the fictional hero to history with a snap of a finger, much like Isla. She was surprised at how much they shared, and how she knew just what to say to pique his interest.
“The Glencoe family? They pledged to the government, but only because they were forced to after the massacre. My governess taught me about this.”
“What else do you ken?”
“Well, their true loyalty was always to the Stuarts, but they had to wait for the next generation to raise the banner again.” He paused, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Isla had spent her life feeling like she had been lacking purpose. Now, listening to Oliver connect the dots of history,her history, she felt an absolute necessity. The emptiness that had followed her like a shadow for nearly thirty years was beginning to fill, replaced by the profound, quiet joy of being truly needed.
“Does yer faither like history?” Isla asked, hoping to learn something about her husband.
For all the time she had spent at Ealdwick, they had been passing ships in the night.
