A March to Marquess | A Regency Romance

Chapter Two

Matilda pulled on Isabella's stays to remove the dusty travel dress. Isabella took a deep, cleansing breath and rolled her shoulders back. Sitting in the carriage for the past three days really took its toll on one's body.

"Would you like me to call the footmen to bring water for your bath, miss?"

Matilda was already pulling on the rope as Isabella nodded her head. As Isabella sat in front of her vanity, Matilda pulled out the pins from her hair and brushed in long even strokes. Isabella always appreciated the way that Matilda had taken care of her over the years. The lady's maid was almost fired until Isabella cried to her father at the young age of 10.

The newest Lady Welton did not like the way that Matilda did her hair one evening before dinner. She dismissed Matilda before she could finish putting the last pin in her hair. When Lady Welton made her way down to dinner, she told Lord Welton that it was time to find her a new lady's maid, one that wasn't so inadequate.

Isabella's eyes slowly filled as she remembered fighting for the maid since she was the last connection to her mother. Matilda was the only one that would ever talk about her mother. They had been together long before she lived at Oakwood, and it seemed like if Isabella lost her she would lose all the memories of her mother.

Matilda continued to work through the pale curls gently. Her peppery hair was pulled back into a low chignon, her black high collared dress darkened the maid's already dark eyes. Isabella always thought the maid's soft face was a comfort, especially through the years where she felt so out of place.

"Matilda," Isabella caught the maid's eyes in the mirror. "My mother's first Season, what was it like?"

A hint of a smile ghosted across Matilda's face.

"She was so excited. Her father had high hopes for her. She was a beauty, with her golden locks and bright blue eyes. She was older than the majority of women experiencing their first season, but that didn't seem to get her down."

The maid nodded her head as she continued to help Isabella prepare for her bath.

"Although she was a beauty, she was not of high standings like you are. Your grandfather knew she would be able to marry well, despite her general frailness. The first night she met your father, it was like she was more alive then she ever was." Matilda ended her sentence with a quiet voice.

She was not supposed to talk about her mother, this Isabella knew. Isabella decided not to press further on the aging maid.

She laid in the tub with hot water up to her neck as Matilda massaged her scalp with a floral oil. The water soothed her aching muscles and calmed her mind. The maid also scrubbed and buffed her nails, keeping them clean and dainty.

When it was time to get out, Matilda wrapped Isabella in a soft robe and set her by the fire. The fire would dry her hair faster in time for dinner. Before she walked away to attend her responsibilities of preparing Isabella's gown for dinner, she softly laid a book on the small table next to Isabella.

Oh how wonderful it was to have a book to read, thought Isabella. She curled her feet up on the seat cushion underneath her behind. The fire was warm and the book comforting. It was not long before she fell into a deep slumber.

...

In her dream, Isabella saw that she was a bird trapped in a gilded cage. There was a ball happening in the house and they all surrounded the cage, wanting her to sing.

"Sing for us you lovely bird," they all chanted. Isabella tried to open her mouth to sing, but nothing came out.

The crowd continued to get louder and louder, urging the caged Isabella to sing. Again, she tried to open her mouth to sing a delicate song and not a single sound came out of her beak.

"I cannot sing," she tried to scream. "I cannot sing, please stop asking me to sing!"

The bird hopped around in urgency as the crowd started to close in on the cage. They were getting angrier, more restless. They were starting to poke their fingers through the cage. She hopped from side to side to find an opening to leave the cage, but there was no escape.

"Why is she not singing?" She heard her step-mother's voice clear as day. "She knows she needs to sing to find a husband. What a good for nothing daughter."

Isabella started to cry, but since she was still a bird, there were no tears. She was not good at anything, why couldn't she just sing?

Suddenly, a loud and deep voice spoke. "Enough! Leave the poor bird alone. Do you not see you are the reason she cannot sing a lovely song? Leave from here! I shall set her free."

A hand reached into the gold cage, urging Isabella to jump into. The stranger relieved her from her cage. When she looked up to see her savior, all she saw was a handsome unknown gentleman. She focused her eyes to make out his features better, but it didn't help.

A gentle shaking woke Isabella up from the nightmare. What could that all mean?

"Miss Isabella, it is time to dress."

Matilda helped Isabella into her undergarments and stays. She carefully draped a pale yellow satin gown over her head. A delicate silk lace overlaid the silky satin. The high waist cut of the dress accentuated her slimness and the neckline seemed to melt into the creaminess of her skin. Matilda pulled her hair into a bun above her head and carefully styled curls around her face.

Lady Welton met Isabella in the landing before they made their way down to the dining room. She acknowledged her by a slight bow of the head, judging Isabella's appearance. Isabella seemed to pass whenever Lady Welton did not utter a word to her step-daughter.

They made their way into the warm dining room that was filled with the aromatics of the food on the table. There was a large roasted pheasant with all the trimmings. Cook really went above and beyond for their first night in Town.

The three ate in companionable silence. Only discussing details of schedules and comments on the previous journey.

After dinner, Lord Welton retired back into the library and Lady Welton and Isabella remained at the table.

"Isabella, I need your assistance in writing invitations for the dinner party that we are hosting in a fortnight."

The two retired upstairs to the drawing room. Isabella sat down at the small desk and pulled out the family stationary. Her step-mother pulled the cord to call her lady's maid to the room. The meek girl gave Lady Welton a small glass of sherry.

"Let's write the first invitation to Lord Dunmore, I heard he is looking for a new wife." Isabella felt herself tense up as her step-mother mentioned his name.

"He is an amicable choice for marriage, Isabella. He owns four estates and I hear they are all extremely profitable. You would be very comfortable. I hope you take great care when he comes for the party." The comment held the heavy warning for Isabella not to mess it up.

The nib flowed over the paper as Isabella wrote the first invitation. She wished that she could write the incorrect date, but Lady Welton wouldn't appreciate that. She poured sand over the ink to dry it, before she moved it to the side to write the next letter. For the next twenty minutes, Lady Welton told Isabella the names of the invitees and Isabella carefully swirled names of the Ton over the paper.

When Isabella finally retired to her chambers, she found she could not sleep as she kept remembering her dream from before. She felt like the cage was starting to be a reality. She only hoped no one would pressure her to sing.