“It was a fitting name.”
“If you wanted to be macabre about it, yes,” she mused quietly almost like she was speaking to herself. His lip twitched all the same. Isabel studied the horse for a minute before turning to him. That gave him a moment to look at her in turn, wondering if she was afraid again. There were moments when he was certain she was fearful. But then sometimes she apparently made jests. “I enjoy a gallop myself on occasion. Perhaps some time I can join you?”
Sebastian blinked several times in surprise. He scrounged for a comment before saying, “The other horses cannot keep up.”
“And Grim cannot go just a tad slower?”
Beginning to feel like she wanted something from him, he decided it was time to take his leave. He tightened his grip on the reins and started to move past her. “That isn’t the type of exercise he requires. It’s best if it is just the two of us.”
“If you insist.”
There was something about her tone that made Sebastian look back. She seemed to have a sharper tongue than expected. But when he peered over his shoulder, she had disappeared among the hedges again.
Grim snorted and tugged on the reins, eager for drink and oats. So Sebastian forced himself back to the stables while he mused on his wife. Then he was taking a bath and back in his study before evening struck.
The next couple of days fell into a disjointed sort of pattern where he and Isabel would occasionally run into each other. It was difficult to know what she was getting at with her questions and comments. So he brushed her off and carried on.
And then he began to notice noise in the halls.
One morning, he passed the library to find Isabel on her knees with the chambermaid where they together were cleaning up the fireplace. The servant said something that made Isabel laugh. Not in a polite way, but a belly laugh that caught him by surprise. Her head fell back and her long hair shook; it was a hearty sound that rang through his ears the rest of the day.
The next afternoon, Sebastian went to retrieve more crabapples for his horse only to find his wife elbow-deep in flour while chattering about floral pastries with the kitchen staff.
They didn’t take many meals together, but Isabel thanked every servant, especially the cook, for everything they ate.
He knew their names and he kept out of their way. Except that did nothing for him with the servants. Apparently, talking to them was the way to soften them up. Irritation burrowed deep inside his skull as he began to hear laughter on a more regular basis.
Only it silenced whenever anyone spotted him.
“Oh, what a lovely idea, Your Grace,” cheered Mrs. Maple while a footman and Isabel were switching out a portrait for a landscape painting in the front parlor one morning while Sebastian was passing by. “You have such an eye for beauty.”
Isabel chuckled, a sound that made him slow down. He couldn’t resist peeking his head further inside for a better look. It helped that no one looked his way. Beginning to feel like an outcast in his own home, he studied everyone curiously.
“You’re too kind, Mrs. Maple. I’m only a hobbyist.”
“Do you paint as well?” The maid asked eagerly. “Mary told me about the miniatures in your bed chamber. She said they’re utterly lovely.”
He perked up, wondering for himself now.
A warm blush washed over Isabel. “Thank you very kindly, Anne. They are indeed. I painted them five years ago as my final assignments from my tutor. It’s my family. I always meant to gift them, but I couldn’t resist holding onto them.”
We’re family now, aren’t we?
Immediately, Sebastian dashed the sudden hope away. He had never been painted in his more recent years. There was a family painting from when he was still in leading strings. His stewardhad made the recommendation when he took on the title, but it didn’t seem likely anyone would actually wish to remember him.
“We’ll have to find you a space someday so you can paint here as much as you like,” Mrs. Maple reassured Isabel. “We don’t use half enough rooms.”
“Enough rooms are used, I think. I don’t want to create more work for anyone. There is the small garden parlor on the next floor, with all the windows and small balcony, but it is hardly the season for that,” Isabel added with a dramatic sigh. “We’ll merely have to wait until spring.”
The servants chuckled. “It’ll be lovely when we do it. Whenever you like, Your Grace,” Anne added politely.
It almost felt like the women in there were all friends. Sebastian knew Isabel had only been here a total of five days. And yet that had been enough for everyone to come to adore her.
Because, after all, everyone else was much easier to love.
He quietly excused himself before he could ruin anything for them. Ducking his head down the hall, he avoided the next turn when he saw two servants at the end. He took another set of stairs to avoid anyone.
Instead of going to his study, however, he went right instead to find the garden parlor. He’d nearly forgotten about that room.
