The Wrong Lady Meets Lord Right

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Lady Strickland considered it exceedingly vulgar for a lady to display any glimpse of her nether limbs in public, or even to make mention of them. So when she suffered a sudden fit and collapsed, she would have been quite pleased (had she been conscious) that her maid ensured she was decently covered before calling for help. When the doctor finally arrived, Lady Strickland had been dead for a good two hours at least. However, those who knew her felt that her features, hardened by death, differed very little from her usual rigid expression while alive, and had great difficulty believing that she was as dead as the proverbial doornail.

Lady Isabelle, who had been gently informed by her cousin Arabella that her mother had had a sudden apoplexy and there was nothing that could have been done to save her, blinked and nodded, before saying: "Is she asking for me? Should I go to her?"

Bella tried again to explain, stating bluntly: "Issie, your mother is dead." And then, feeling that perhaps she'd been too blunt, attempted to soften her pronouncement by saying: "She has gone to her eternal reward."

She felt quite foolish spouting this platitude, as Bella didn't feel her aunt deserved any reward, and since God was said to be omniscient, he had to have known it, as well. But Bella was accustomed to protecting her younger cousin from life's harsh realities, and one didn't have to be a high stickler like Lady Strickland had been to realize it was inappropriate to dance a jig on the occasion of your relation's death, no matter how awfully she might have treated you.

Although Bella had no desire to celebrate. Her aunt's passing seemed such an impossible thing to comprehend that she was having difficulty assimilating it and felt no more than a shocked numbness. She could understand Issie's instinctive refusal to accept that her domineering mother, who had tyrannized Issie for the first eighteen years of her life, had ceased to exist.

It became easier to accept in the coming weeks, after the will had been read and Issie had been named the sole beneficiary of the family estate. Bella had no expectation that her aunt would leave her anything so was not surprised when she was proven correct, though she couldn't help feeling a trifle disappointed. However, she was not totally penniless. Her father, who had been the late Lord Strickland's younger brother, had left her a small bequest when he died. (Although her annual income was less than what the Strickland estate spent on candles each year.)

Bella did derive one financial benefit from Lady Strickland's death: while she was alive her aunt had appropriated Bella's income, claiming it was her due for housing and feeding Bella, which she'd done for more than sixteen years since Bella had come to live with the family when she was three years old. Now that Lady Strickland had died, the family's man of affairs was forwarding Bella's allowance directly to her. So even though Bella did not inherit one penny from her miserly aunt, she suddenly felt very wealthy indeed, as she had pocket money for the first time in her life. Unfortunately, she had no opportunity to spend it, as she and Issie never left the estate.

The girls had been surprised to find that, other than that initial visit from the family attorney, they had been left completely to their own devices. Bella finally concluded that Lady Strickland had never expected to die before Issie was married and so had made no arrangements for that eventuality. After all, before Lady Strickland's sudden death, she and Issie had been actively preparing for Issie's come-out and had been planning to travel to London the following week. Therefore Issie and Bella, just eighteen and nineteen, had no older woman to chaperone them. Nor did they have any desire to point out this oversight. They were much happier to be allowed to make their own decisions without criticism, and rejoiced in their freedom from the myriad rules and restrictions Lady Strickland had imposed on them. This freedom was limited, however, as they were expected to observe strict mourning, and Bella couldn't help feeling that even though Lady Strickland was gone, the conventions that she had insisted upon were continuing to control them.

But a year couldn't last forever, and eleven months after her aunt's death, Bella approached Issie in order to discuss their future. She had no doubts about where she would find her cousin, and when she entered the library-a much cozier room compared to when her aunt was alive-she found Issie curled up on a sofa reading by the light of a candle, exactly where Bella expected her to be.

It was only midmorning but it was a cold, damp, cloudy day in late February, and one indulgence they'd granted themselves since Lady Strickland's passing was the lighting of fires and candles in any room they pleased. And Issie's favorite room was the library. Bella enjoyed reading, too, but not nearly as much as Issie, who had to be reminded to eat and sleep when she was engrossed in a book.

Issie didn't look up when Bella entered the room and, even after Bella cleared her throat, Issie merely gave her an absentminded smile and a nod before retreating once again into her book.

"Issie," Bella said.

"Yes?" she replied, though she wasn't looking at Bella when she did so.

"Issie, give it to me."

This finally got Issie's attention. She pulled the book tight against her chest as if she were its mother and it was an infant that Bella was trying to forcibly wrest from her arms. "Why?"

"I need to talk to you, and I need you to pay attention."

Issie sighed, but obediently handed the book to Bella, though she looked bereft as she did so. Bella, looking more closely at her cousin, was surprised by her unhealthy appearance. As critical and dictatorial as Lady Strickland had been, she was better than Bella at making sure Issie ate, slept, and left the house. In the eleven months since her mother had died, Issie had become a virtual hermit. She hardly ever dressed for dinner, and she and Bella very rarely ate in the dining room, contenting themselves with a tray in their rooms. They never went to church or into the village, or paid or received calls, and Bella at first had been happy about this state of affairs, as she felt that if she and Issie were seen in public without an older female chaperone, one of their officious neighbors might take it upon themselves to contact someone who had the authority to appoint one. But now she felt guilty that she had let her cousin deteriorate to this point, and wondered if having an older female companion would have been such a bad thing, after all. It was highly unlikely that anyone could be as harsh a taskmaster as Lady Strickland.

And Bella acknowledged that, while Lady Strickland had been far too demanding of Issie, Bella had not been demanding enough. Bella knew, more than anyone, how her cousin had suffered under her mother's merciless domination, and so was inclined to give in to Issie too easily, condoning behavior that could not be for her long-term good. Why, Issie had dark circles around her eyes, was white as a sheet, and seemed even thinner than she had been before Lady Strickland's death, and she had been slender then.

Bella felt a sudden surge of sympathy for her poor, rich cousin, and asked very kindly: "Dearest Issie, isn't there anything you would like to do?"

"What do you mean?" Issie asked.

"Our year of mourning will end in a few weeks. Wouldn't you like to go to London? You were on the verge of going when your mother died. Just think, in less than a month it will be permissible for you to attend balls, and musical concerts, and the theatre . . . oh! I envy you prodigiously!" Bella said, in all sincerity. She knew her common birth and lack of fortune made it impossible for her to have her own come-out, and gave herself frequent lectures so that she did not feel depressed or discontented when comparing her circumstances with her cousin's.

However, rather than being pleased at this list of delights that awaited her, Issie appeared horrified. She put one hand to her heart and her breathing accelerated, as if the very thought of such activities caused her extreme agitation. "I do not want to do any of those things! I know you mean well, Bella, but please do not worry about me. I am quite content. Indeed, I am doing everything I've ever desired to do."

"But . . . you don't do anything; other than stay indoors and read."

"Exactly!" her cousin replied, and a brilliant smile lit her pale face.

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Bella did her best to convince Issie to join her in rides and walks, but Issie pleaded poor health and staunchly refused every invitation. Bella was wondering if she should approach someone older and wiser for advice, and even paid a visit to the vicarage, her first time making a call since her aunt’s death. However, while the vicar and his wife were at least two decades older than Bella, they didn’t strike her as particularly wiser, and she decided against confiding her troubles in them.

Before she could worry for too much longer, a letter arrived for Isabelle that Bella felt was the answer to their dilemma. However, Issie eyed it as if it were a snake, particularly when she saw who it was from. "Who is Lady Dutton?" Bella asked, looking over Issie's shoulder.

"Mama's aunt. My great-aunt," Issie replied.

"Have you ever met her?" Bella did not recall meeting her, but she had never left Fenborough Hall since she'd arrived there as a child; whereas Issie had gone with her mother to visit relatives upon occasion.

"Once; on a visit to London when I was twelve. She told my mother if she allowed me to read so much I would ruin my eyesight and spoil my looks and no man would marry me. Mama forbade me to read for the entire month of our visit." Issie looked as if the injustice of this incident still rankled seven years later. Then her indignant expression turned mischievous. "But I snuck a book and candle into bed every night. One time I nearly caught the bed hangings on fire, and I slept till noon every day, but I was never found out."

Issie was smiling fondly over this memory when she began reading the letter, but her smile quickly faded. "Oh, no, it's the worst possible news!"

Issie handed Bella the letter and sank down onto the sofa. She looked even paler than she had before, something Bella had not thought possible.

"Issie, are you all right? Should I get your vinaigrette?" Bella asked.

"Just read the letter," Issie whispered, and Bella took a deep breath to prepare herself for whatever dire news it contained. She couldn't imagine what could have caused Issie's stricken expression. They had already lost their closest relatives, so no one could have died, or at least no one Issie cared about. Had Issie's fortune been lost? Had Napoleon escaped a second time? Had Lady Strickland faked her death, and was she about to reappear now that their year of mourning was ending?

Bella's own knees got a little weak at that last thought, and she dropped down next to Issie on the sofa. But even though she read the letter twice, once very quickly and a second time much more thoroughly in case she'd missed something, she couldn't find anything that would have caused Issie's dismayed reaction. In fact, Bella thought it was the most thrilling letter she'd ever read, even though Lady Dutton had atrocious spelling, grammar, and penmanship. Perhaps that was what had upset Issie so.

Bella looked up from the letter to see Issie watching her with an expression of concern. "Issie, we're going to London!" Bella shouted jubilantly, jumping up from the sofa and twirling around the room before running back to her cousin's side and hugging her.

Issie groaned.

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It was apparent that Lady Dutton assumed Issie’s governess was still in residence, as her letter suggested that the girls travel to London under her escort. They were to stay at Lady Dutton’s London house for the season, and she intended to give Isabelle the come-out she’d missed because of her mother’s demise. (Though she’d spelled it “dumyes” and it had taken Bella a good ten seconds to figure out that Lady Dutton wasn’t offering Lady Strickland an insult.) Lady Dutton had specifically included Bella in the invitation. At least, that’s how Bella interpreted the paragraph that said if Issie’s cousin was still living with her she might as well bring her and they’d find something for her to do, since Lady Dutton was honor bound to show the same charity toward the “poor, unforchunet creacher” that Lady Strickland had.

If it were up to Issie, she would have found some way of ignoring the summons. She'd even suggested to Bella that they destroy the letter and pretend it had been lost, but Bella responded very reasonably that Lady Dutton would then send someone to get them or come herself, and that would only have the effect of delaying the inevitable and make Lady Dutton annoyed with them. By repeatedly reminding Issie of such facts, Bella was eventually able to coax her into a carriage and onto the road to London.

Bella was highly impressed with herself for accomplishing this feat, and reflected that it was a shame there was no one to notice and praise her as she deserved. Issie sulked in the corner of the carriage, and May, the fifteen-year-old maidservant they'd brought with them, was just as bashful and nervous as her mistress. Bella assumed that was why Issie had chosen her to accompany them, so that Bella would have no one to support her in what Issie insisted on calling "this mad and ridiculous escapade."

It was somewhat mad, Bella admitted to herself, as while Issie had traveled with her mother occasionally, Bella had never been any further than a few miles from Fenborough Hall. She couldn't believe that she was twenty years old and only now leaving. She knew less about travel than Issie did, perhaps even less than May, who had a cousin in "London-town."

However, with the help of their coachman, who had made a few trips to London while Lady Strickland was alive, combined with Bella's fierce determination to begin this new chapter in her life as soon as possible, Bella and Issie made it safely to London.