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Authors: Carolyn Jewel
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made her look so
unhealthy. And her clothes! Never had she had so many dresses (she
gave a sigh of relief to see not a single one of that hideous brown
color), and she had enough underthings to last a lifetime. There
was a pair of slippers for each gown and dozens upon dozens of silk
stockings. There were garters, hats, and gloves and she was already
collecting rich muffs, scarves, wraps, and even a beautiful black
fur cape that she would be able to wear in winter. She shouldn’t
have been surprised to learn she was expected to change her clothes
several times a day: one dress for morning, one for afternoon, a
blue habit for riding, a dress for walking in the park, and yet
another gown for the evening. Sometimes it seemed to her that she
did nothing but change her clothes.
Isobel passed the summer in tolerable comfort, and
if she was sometimes a little lonely, all she had to do was think
of New York and even Miss Steadly seemed good company. If she had
not been anxious to find the music teacher Mr. Archer had
recommended to her, she would have been happy to stay at Mawbury
indefinitely.
In mid-September, the earl finally requested she
come to London. She could not help feeling hurt when she found he
had been in London for nearly two weeks before sending for her.
When she arrived at Redruth she was informed by an unsmiling Mrs.
Godwaite that his lordship had left word he was out for the day but
expected to return in time to dine with her at half past four. At a
quarter past four, he sent word that he would be joining her for
tea at six, as he was engaged for dinner. He arrived at half past
six and, after a perfunctory apology for having kept her waiting,
received a shock when he actually took the trouble to look at her.
She was still pale, but her skin had taken on a translucence that
made her complexion seem delicate instead of sickly. Her nose,
which had seemed a trifle too long in her thin face, now seemed
perfectly suited to her high cheekbones. Most of all, she radiated
good health, her golden hair was shiny, and, though she remained
slim, she had lost the angular, half-starved look that had so
concerned her Uncle Edward.
II
Isobel and her father had dinner together almost
every day, but though there were often several people waiting for
him, he never invited callers to stay. He would, however, repeat
their stories to her so she could almost feel she had met them
herself. Isobel looked forward to their dinners because it was the
only time she might expect to have an intelligent conversation. Her
father was invariably engaged for supper and Isobel generally spent
the evening meal alone. The earl enjoyed their afternoons together
for many reasons, not the least of which was the increasing
evidence that his daughter might actually be considered a beauty.
More than once, however, he took her to task for her blunt way of
speaking.
“ Ladies,” he warned her, “should
not be so accomplished as you seem to be. It is well established
that intellectual pursuits have proven to be too much of a strain
on the fragile constitution of the fair sex, leading to ill health
and, in dire cases, insanity.”
“ Oh, Father! That’s
nonsense!”
“ Nevertheless, one would be hard
pressed to find a husband who would appreciate such
accomplishments. As the late Lord Chesterfield has said”—he raised
a finger to make his point—“Women, then, are only children of a
larger growth.’ You would do well not to forget it.” He shook his
fork at her to emphasize the seriousness of his words.
“ But, Father, if I really were
only a child, would you need to remind me to act like one?” She
looked at him as though puzzled.
“ Your impertinence is not
appreciated,” he snorted.
“ Well, then, I think it unlikely I
shall marry,” she said, looking down to cut into her roast beef in
order to hide her smile.
“ Who would have such an impudent
little snip as you, I can’t imagine!”
“ I promise you, Father, when at
last I am
unhealthy. And her clothes! Never had she had so many dresses (she
gave a sigh of relief to see not a single one of that hideous brown
color), and she had enough underthings to last a lifetime. There
was a pair of slippers for each gown and dozens upon dozens of silk
stockings. There were garters, hats, and gloves and she was already
collecting rich muffs, scarves, wraps, and even a beautiful black
fur cape that she would be able to wear in winter. She shouldn’t
have been surprised to learn she was expected to change her clothes
several times a day: one dress for morning, one for afternoon, a
blue habit for riding, a dress for walking in the park, and yet
another gown for the evening. Sometimes it seemed to her that she
did nothing but change her clothes.
Isobel passed the summer in tolerable comfort, and
if she was sometimes a little lonely, all she had to do was think
of New York and even Miss Steadly seemed good company. If she had
not been anxious to find the music teacher Mr. Archer had
recommended to her, she would have been happy to stay at Mawbury
indefinitely.
In mid-September, the earl finally requested she
come to London. She could not help feeling hurt when she found he
had been in London for nearly two weeks before sending for her.
When she arrived at Redruth she was informed by an unsmiling Mrs.
Godwaite that his lordship had left word he was out for the day but
expected to return in time to dine with her at half past four. At a
quarter past four, he sent word that he would be joining her for
tea at six, as he was engaged for dinner. He arrived at half past
six and, after a perfunctory apology for having kept her waiting,
received a shock when he actually took the trouble to look at her.
She was still pale, but her skin had taken on a translucence that
made her complexion seem delicate instead of sickly. Her nose,
which had seemed a trifle too long in her thin face, now seemed
perfectly suited to her high cheekbones. Most of all, she radiated
good health, her golden hair was shiny, and, though she remained
slim, she had lost the angular, half-starved look that had so
concerned her Uncle Edward.
II
Isobel and her father had dinner together almost
every day, but though there were often several people waiting for
him, he never invited callers to stay. He would, however, repeat
their stories to her so she could almost feel she had met them
herself. Isobel looked forward to their dinners because it was the
only time she might expect to have an intelligent conversation. Her
father was invariably engaged for supper and Isobel generally spent
the evening meal alone. The earl enjoyed their afternoons together
for many reasons, not the least of which was the increasing
evidence that his daughter might actually be considered a beauty.
More than once, however, he took her to task for her blunt way of
speaking.
“ Ladies,” he warned her, “should
not be so accomplished as you seem to be. It is well established
that intellectual pursuits have proven to be too much of a strain
on the fragile constitution of the fair sex, leading to ill health
and, in dire cases, insanity.”
“ Oh, Father! That’s
nonsense!”
“ Nevertheless, one would be hard
pressed to find a husband who would appreciate such
accomplishments. As the late Lord Chesterfield has said”—he raised
a finger to make his point—“Women, then, are only children of a
larger growth.’ You would do well not to forget it.” He shook his
fork at her to emphasize the seriousness of his words.
“ But, Father, if I really were
only a child, would you need to remind me to act like one?” She
looked at him as though puzzled.
“ Your impertinence is not
appreciated,” he snorted.
“ Well, then, I think it unlikely I
shall marry,” she said, looking down to cut into her roast beef in
order to hide her smile.
“ Who would have such an impudent
little snip as you, I can’t imagine!”
“ I promise you, Father, when at
last I am
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