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Chapter 12
Marjorie winced when she heard a door upstairs slam shut. Isabel would be on her own for a while now, more than likely fuming. She had been doing a lot of that lately.
Marjorie was beginning to regret making a deal with her daughter to give her one Season to find a potential husband. It was turning Isabel into a person she didn’t recognize anymore. Even though her daughter was one of those people who were very different and odd compared to other ladies her age, that was what Isabel was like. It defined her and made her unique. Marjorie should have kept hold of that and not tried to change her.
But between herself and Lavinia – mostly Lavinia – that had happened.
It hadn’t meant to be like that. Lavinia was meant to give her a few lessons in how to conduct herself in Society, seeing as Isabel had never done that before. She just needed to soften the rough edges and make sure she couldn’t make a fool of herself. Marjorie hadn’t expected her daughter’s personality to change as well. Now she was a haughty, well-refined lady who didn’t take any interest in her old passions. Before, that had driven Marjorie wild that her daughter preferred to stick her nose in a book or care for sick animals than do anything that she would have considered worthwhile.
Now, she wanted that part of her daughter back.
She was beginning to behave like Lavinia, and Society could not handle another Lady Blythcourt.
“My Lady?”
Marjorie looked up. Arnaud was standing by the settee, watching her with a curious expression. Then Marjorie realized that she had sat there staring at her hands for some time. Clearing her throat, she got to her feet.
“Arnaud.” She dusted herself down. “Is something wrong?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.” Arnaud tilted her head to one side. “Is something on your mind?”
“I …”
Before, Marjorie wouldn’t have spoken to any of the servants about what was going on. She couldn’t bring herself to open up to anyone. But today, she just needed someone to talk to. Sighing, Marjorie closed her eyes.
“A lot is on my mind, Arnaud. I’m beginning to think I made a mistake here.”
“How so? Did you not want your daughter to enter Society?”
“Of course, but ... I didn’t want her to turn into ... whatever she is now.” Marjorie paced away. “Lady Blythcourt said she could turn Isabel into a lady, and she did. A little too well. Now Isabel is different, and I can’t see the child I raised.”
“It’s natural for Miss Moore to get a little too wrapped up in what she’s doing, My Lady. You know what she’s like.”
Marjorie bit her lip.
“I know, but why did she have to start changing her personality around me? In public, yes, but in private, I was expecting her to still be curled up in a corner with a huge book on her lap. At least I’d know that my daughter was still here.”
That had been a good thing about Isabel loving books. When it was evening and the night was drawing in, the two of them would settle by the fire. Isabel would have a book, and Marjorie would either read or work on some embroidery. It was quiet, no need for conversation, which Marjorie liked. They could both just settle down and wrap up in the solitude. Her husband hadn’t really understood that; he always felt the need to talk.
Isabel understood solitude. Now they didn’t sit together in the evening. Not after the third evening. By the fourth night they were in their London house, Isabel chose to go out with Lavinia and Lady Hester. Those two were always coming up with something they could do in the evenings. Isabel’s diary was full.
It was like she was moving on in a direction that Marjorie hadn’t expected, and she was leaving her mother behind.
“It’s still early days, My Lady,” Arnaud pointed out. “And Miss Moore won’t be able to keep up with the new persona she has put on.”
“How do you know, Arnaud?”
“I’ve been her maid for some time now, Lady Dunley. I know Miss Moore quite well.” The other woman spread her hands. “She throws herself into something with a lot of passion, but that wanes eventually. Especially if it’s a passion she can’t sustain.”
Marjorie grunted.
“That may be the case with some situations, but you also know that when she’s really passionate, and that doesn’t die, she doesn’t slow down.”
“I know. However, I believe that she’ll be turning back into her old self soon.”
“I hope so.” Marjorie wrapped her arms around her middle and went to the window. “I don’t want to wake up and find out that Isabel has moved on without me. I feel like there’s a gap between us, and it’s getting bigger.”
Arnaud frowned.
