“Elizabeth, I—”
I shook my head. “Tomorrow, Giles. I am not well.”
His voice was a mix of necessity and resolve. “Dash it all, Elizabeth. You cannot know what it means to me that you are here. There is something I simply must discuss with you.” He paused to look back at the room. “Perhaps you are right. Tomorrow then, but it’s terribly important, mind you, and I’m not certain whom I can trust. Juliana is a good girl, but I don’t want to burden her so close to the wedding.” He dipped his chin. “Your sudden arrival is nothing short of a godsend.” He moved in close. “Tomorrow, after the garden party, meet me in the south woods behind the rear wall. Will you promise to come?”
My chest tightened. “But why?”
He shuffled in place as his glare settled on Adrian and the door. “Can’t say right now. Just please, tell me I’ll find you in the woods after the party.” There was a palpable urgency to his words.
I nodded slowly and then quickly as if to reassure him, but a fresh wave of anxiety washed across my arms. As if to appease me like he’d done as a child, he nudged my chin before walking away, leaving me to gather my nerves before facing my new husband.
Slowly, I turned back to Adrian with a smile fixed neatly across my face, but I knew in my heart that whatever Giles meant to tell me I did not want to hear.
Chapter 4
The housekeeper was right to cringe at Adrian’s room selection. Though the bedding had been replaced and the room hurriedly gone over, I could sense the depressed state of the blue bedchamber. It was almost as if the furniture itself had retreated to the room to be lost and forgotten.
A slender wardrobe hid behind the poster bed, an empty desk sat to the side, and a settee was angled perfectly beside the newly lit fire in the fireplace. Yet it all felt cold somehow, as if hovering beneath the watchful eyes of the powder-blue printed walls.
I had slept a few hours at least, yet I hardly felt rested after waking to the distant sound of dogs barking beyond the walls. The gray haze of late afternoon had taken over the lonely room. Eventually I rose, crossed the well-laid carpet, and thrust open a pair of heavy chintz drapes. Far below, Juliana and Giles strolled the front lawn as Phoebe dutifully trailed behind, busy amusing two large foxhounds. I watched them until something alerted the dogs, and the happy group headed out of view.
It seemed a long time before I stepped away from the glass and retreated into the silence of my thoughts. I had been isolated many times in my life, but this forced intimacy with a family of strangers did nothing to relieve the tightness in my chest. I moved quickly to tidy my dress and hair. Isaac would be missing me by now.
Earlier in the day, Adrian showed me to my room to rest; however, he had only indicated the direction of the nursery. While I was certain many would be willing to guide me, I set out unescorted down the wide hallway from my room in the family wing.
Floor-length windows lit my path on one side while large paintings of men stared at me from the other. Adrian’s family, no doubt, and a stern lot at that. I rounded the corner and heard a cluster of giggles, which to my delight I knew could only belong to my son. I followed the laughter down a narrow corridor, all the way to an open door.
There in the center of the rug stood Isaac, quite pleased to have pushed himself into a standing position, one hand grasping the rim of a tiny table. A young maidservant knelt at his side and smiled.
“I think you look quite smart, Master Isaac. What a wonder you are at only eleven months old.” She gave his tummy a tickle, and he laughed once again.
It was only a moment before he saw me lingering in the doorway, and an immense grin spread across his face. He plopped to the floor, crawling as fast as his little knees and pudgy hands would allow. I met him halfway and scooped him into my arms before giving him a flurry of kisses.
“My lady.” The maid curtsied then smiled. “Ah, what a good lad you have there. He has been showing me all the things he knows how to do.”
“Did you hear that, Isaac? She thinks you are brilliant.” I rubbed his nose with my own, drinking in his scent before turning back to the waiting maid. “I must thank you for looking after him so well.”
“It has been my pleasure.”
“And you are?”
“Forgive me. I’m Miss Alice Barton, my lady.”
Isaac appeared rested and quite recovered from our little adventure. He wriggled in my arms, and I set him back on the floor. “Isaac is a busy boy these days. No time for his mama.” I took a moment to glance about the room. “Will you be the one who is to look after him every day?”
“Oh yes. Well, only till you employ a head nurse and she agrees to my help, of course.”
“I see.” Lazily, I ran my finger across a book of poems on the table. “Finding a head nurse will be a difficult process, I’m afraid, for Isaac was quite close to his last one.” I sighed. “She was like a member of the family and so good with him.”
“I understand. Long ago, my mother was head nurse here at Middlecrest. She was always quite particular with ‘her boys,’ as she called them.”
“You grew up on the estate?”
“I did, your ladyship. And I assure you, there’s no other place like it. Life took me away for a short time, and I was never more glad to come back. No other place would feel like home to me.”
Tension ebbed from my muscles as I regarded Isaac playing on the floor. My darling boy was in good hands. “You seem to have put Isaac at ease after a difficult time. I thank you for that.”
“Isaac and I have had a grand afternoon. In fact, I was just thinking it time to head to the kitchens to arrange his supper. Does he have a schedule you’d like me to follow? It might assist with the transition.”
I nodded. “Certainly. Allow me to pen it out for you, as I assume there will be several nursemaids watching over him in the coming days.” I started across the room, then hesitated. “You do read, Miss Barton?”
“Oh, yes, my lady.”
“Wonderful. Have you a quill pen?”
She scurried past a slew of Isaac’s luggage to a desk before motioning me over to the seat. I settled in the chair before reaching into Isaac’s little brown bag where I knew I had a few pieces of scratch paper. Securing a loose page, I took prodigious care to pen out Isaac’s daily routine.
Waking time, eating time, nap time, playtime, bedtime.
Miss Barton watched as I finished the last line with eight o’clock. “There now. Where shall we put it?”
She scanned the room. “Oh dear. I’ve never been a nursery maid before. Wherever you think is best.”
I followed her searching gaze to a blank space on top of a dresser and left the schedule there. “This shall do nicely. It will keep everyone informed of my expectations.”
“Yes, my lady, and don’t you worry. I’ll do my best to see the little master taken care of.”
“Thank you, Miss Barton. It is a great relief to leave him in your capable hands.” I turned to the door, all too aware I couldn’t hide in the nursery forever, not on my first day at Middlecrest, not when Adrian and I had so much to discuss and there were people I had to meet.
My stomach clenched at the thought. How many guests had come for the wedding? And more importantly, how many would I have to deceive?