Father was sound asleep, snoring softly with his head resting on the wall.
“Sit properly.” Mother swatted her shoulder. “You’re all bent forwards, and close your legs. You aren’t riding a horse. Benjamin, wake up for heaven’s sake.” She shook Papa.
“I agree, I agree,” he said, blinking.
Isabella laughed but stopped when Mother scowled.
“To what are you agreeing?” Mother asked.
Father ran a hand through his dishevelled hair. “To whatever you said, darling.” He winked at Isabella.
She grinned and composed herself although the drive made her muscles sore and her mood gloomy.
Helen, instead, was radiant, seemingly already enamoured with His Grace Anthony Beaufort, the eighteenth Duke of Gloucester. The greater the number, the more prestigious the family…the more intimidating the person, in Isabella’s opinion.
She tried to find the view of the endless barley fields engaging, but they paled in comparison with the colourful flowers in her conservatory.
“Just a few days,” Father whispered. “Then we’ll be back to our lives.”
“I’m worried about the orchid seedlings. They’re from Guatemala.” Isabella huffed. “The seedlings might rot if they aren’t planted properly.”
“Stop this fuss. Our gardener is excellent.” Mother waved a dismissive hand. “He’ll do a good job. As for you, I believe this experience will help you widen your horizons and meet new friends. Exclusive friends. And after this visit, Helen will be more famous than Lady Mary.” She harrumphed. “I got heartburn from how many times I heard Lady Mary being referred to as the Swan of London.”
“I haven’t seen her in a while,” Isabella said.
Mother smirked. “The swan must have migrated somewhere else. I don’t care where she is as long as she isn’t Helen’s rival in marrying the duke.”
“It’s not a competition?—”
“The castle!” Helen gestured out of the window. “Look!”
“Crikey!” Isabella gazed up at the ridiculously tall turrets and the imposing fortress looming from the top of a hill.
Dockerly Castle cast a long shadow on the green fields, with its battlements, a curtain wall, and a portcullis. With its stonewalls and sharp gables, it looked like a set of fangs coming out of the ground as if a giant dragon were about to burst out. The rest of the country seemed tiny compared to it.
Admittedly, the trip had just turned exciting.
“Stop staring at everything as if you were stunned,” Mother said. “At least for the next few days.”
Father exhaled. “Leave her be.”
“Stop defending her. It’s because of your lack of discipline she’s become such an unrefined lady.”
“She’s spirited, that’s all, and she has her own interests.”
Mother pressed her lips together. Father yawned, ending the conversation. Isabella smiled fondly at him, and he squeezed her hand in reply.
“We’ve arrived.” Helen pointed at a tall stone arch marking the entrance of the Beauforts’ estate.
“Finally.” She admired the neat row of cypress trees lining the road and the trimmed hedges.
The groundskeeper had to work hard.
Ten minutes later, the coach was still driving along the longest driveway in history. Acres upon acres of green hills and mowed grass surrounded the castle.
“The duke must own half of England.” Isabella stuck her head out of the window.
“Thirty estates,” Helen said like a well-prepared student. “The Beaufort family is one of the most ancient in the kingdom.”
