Isabelle by Sophia Holloway

Author:Sophia Holloway
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Allison & Busby
Published: 2022-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Sileby thought long and hard about what Lord Idsworth said to him, and that evening sought to speak to Isabelle alone.

‘Of course, Sileby. You do look very serious. I hope there is not some bad news, though I am at a loss to know how you would have received it in our current situation.’

‘I have been giving some thought, Miss, to my future.’

‘Oh.’ Her heart sank. She was secretly hoping that Sileby would have settled into the lodge and forgotten the idea of it being temporary.

‘Yes, Miss, and an opportunity has arisen unexpectedly, you might say.’

‘Oh.’

‘I am not a young man, Miss Isabelle, but nor am I fit only to sit before a fire and wallow in the past. I needs something to keep me busy and keeping the lodge is scarcely that.’

‘I suppose not.’ Isabelle sighed.

‘The thing is that I have had an offer of employment, and I am mindful to accept, if you permit.’

‘I permit? Oh Sileby, it is not a case of needing permission. What is the offer, and from whom?’ She was puzzled.

‘Lord Idsworth, Miss, has offered me the situation of being his personal servant, his valet. I would not suit some fancy-mannered and fancy-dressed gentleman, but he is a military man, and I think we would understand each other very well. If it were not for leaving you, Miss, I would have said yes immediately.’

‘Oh, Sileby, I would not hold you back. I can see it would be an excellent thing for you, and Lord Idsworth also. I cannot pretend that I relish the thought of your departure, but can think of nothing better for you.’ The thought crossed her mind that the separation might not be permanent anyway, but she kept the thought to herself. Sileby saw the tinge of colour and guessed, and hoped she was right. ‘If my blessing is needed, then you have it.’

She held out her hand, and he took it.

‘Thank you, Miss Isabelle.’

Isabelle confronted Lord Idsworth after breakfast the next day.

‘So you are a poacher, my Lord?’

‘A poacher?’ He was thinking how soft her skin looked, and not paying the fullest attention.

‘Yes, Sir, a poacher of retainers, not of game.’

‘Ah, Sileby. Well …’

‘Do you deny the charge?’ Her eyes twinkled.

‘In part. You see, he had mentioned that he was underemployed, and he really would be the ideal valet for a man like me, so …’

‘Would you like to take Mrs Frampton, my cook?’

‘Tempting, after the fare I am being offered at every meal, but no, Miss Isabelle, I would not.’ The smile he had held in check spread into a grin. ‘Nor will I try and drag Wellow from your employ, as if that were possible. You engender great devotion in your servants.’ Without thinking, his hand reached out to hers, but he recollected himself at the last minute, and would have withdrawn it again had Isabelle not entwined her fingers between his. He wanted to say things, words of love, that he was as devoted to her, but held back.

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