“I do not know, such a contrite detail has never seemed relevant to pique my curiosity. She doesn’t like it and doesn’t eat it.”
Isobel nodded, “All right. My apologies for interrupting. Do go on.”
Gregory frowned, his face contorting as he appeared deep in thought. Isobel waited patiently, somewhat eager to learn more about the girl she was supposed to know as much as she knew herself, but had been separated from.
“I think… she likes colors.”
“What colors?” Isobel piqued.
“Just – light ones. Her dresses are always one bright color or the other. A trait she undoubtedly got from her mother.”
The vague details left Isobel feeling a little displaced, but she fell silent in order to urge him to continue.
“I think she… ah - That is all I can think of at the moment that you need to be aware of.”
Isobel blinked. “What? Is that it? I have to pretend to be her, before her family and friends. How am I to succeed when I barely have any idea what she was really like?”
“As I said, it is not a tough task. Just – do what feels right and take the advice I have already given to you. It is rather late now, so you need to rest. You have quite a long day ahead of you.” Gregory prompted, rising to his feet.
Isobel's protests fell on deaf ears and she did not feel confident as she followed his lead, standing up and following him to the door, even as he opened it to beckon the valet closer.
“I believe you will do everything necessary to ensure we get to the bottom of this,” her father said, his gaze narrow and voice gruff.
Isobel was tired, from the journey, from the news of her sister’s unfortunate incident, from the disappointment of meeting her father and realizing he did not care about her one bit. And she knew the longer she spent in his presence, the more pain she would feel.
And so, she nodded, lowering her head as she put some distance between them.
“I told you already that I would do my best,” she muttered, loud enough for him to hear, going still as a thought occurred to her. “My sister’s – Valerie’s husband-to-be might not believe whatever attempts I make to pose as his bride. How am I expected to fool him?”
“Ah, you needn’t worry about that, because he has not arrived yet. He was called away for work and therefore sent his apologies for his absence. He will be here in a few days or so, but I would much rather put an end to this matter before his arrival. Remember – discretion is of the utmost importance.” Gregory told her.
Isobel still bore reservations over the matter, but it seemed easier to accept her fate, seeing as her father had no intention of relenting, so pushing further was not an option. Especially not when she was far too exhausted to comprehend whatever responses might be given to her questions.
So she did the only thing she could think of, curtseying lightly.
“Good night… Lord Gramfield.”
Gregory cleared his throat, looking a tad uncomfortable. “From tomorrow, you may call me father, to avoid any form of suspicion. Remember, this matter must be kept secret between us.”
“I know,” Isobel replied curtly.
“Good. I will see you tomorrow, then. Daughter.”
The acknowledgment she had dreamed of left a hollow feeling in her chest, and she sighed with a nod, eager to leave the study.
“I apologize, Miss. It would be helpful if you could see the layout of the house so you can learn how to make your way around. Unfortunately, because it is so late, we would seem rather suspicious, wandering around at this hour.” The valet told her as she joined him in the hallway.
Isobel shook her head. “Do not worry. I am quite adept at adapting to my environment. I will learn quickly, and I won’t be here long enough for it to matter anyway.”
Mr Wittley nodded graciously and led her to Valerie’s room.
“I put your things here, Miss. But it might be best to use some of Miss Wightman’s personal effects if you are to convince anyone of the identity you wish to assume.” He told her kindly.
“Thank you,” she mustered a slight smile. “I will do my best.”
The man bowed and left her to settle in, Isobel inhaling deeply when she was finally alone.
Everything that had transpired in the last hour was far beyond her expectations and imagination. Her heart hurt for Valerie, who was gravely ill and forced to rely on a stranger to save her life. For herself, whose expectation had been dashed, she had to put herself in harm’s way to save the life of a stranger.
