The night was spent with the girls trusting each other and they cuddled each other to sleep. Isabella felt uneasy to see how her intimate friend suffered from what was beyond her understanding. She didn't know her pain so she didn't talk much but to give her support and allianceship. To Margaret, however, she felt more fortunate to find a friend who would not see her as a witch but to simply be there with her. Margaret understood that Isabella did not carry the same feeling but she was also trying to perceive her own.
The next morning, their mutual benevolence was obvious and it showed no change in their intimate friendship. The first task they planned to do very early on a new day was to seize their poor Andie to ask matters regarding the case.
Before Mr Anderson had the knowledge to walk away from their tangling him, Margaret started the long list of questions with a deceiving greeting (which appeared to be harmless to his quiet morning routine), "Greeting, brother. How was your sleep?"
"Very well," her brother replied with caution, "what do you want to know?"
Margaret was quite shocked at her brother's refined ability to learn so fast of her true intention. Isabella giggled carelessly by her side. Mr Anderson caught that and more open-heartedly, he commented," Good morning, Miss Isabella, you are still the radiant girl who is always generous with her smile."
"Thank you, Mr Anderson," replied Isabella blushfully.
"Call me Andie," he said softly.
"Call him Candy," Margaret said impatiently with a half joking manner, "it's not afternoon tea yet, what's the matter with all the sugar and sweets? I'm almost overwhelmed! Bless you, brother, tell us what we want to know, please."
Anderson was not entirely satisfied with his sister's teasing reply but he saw the teasing interesting enough for Isabella to find it romantic (however as impossible as it might be).
"Please forgive me now that I am not allowed to tell you all the details, because of liability and legal issues. Nonetheless, according to what we have gathered so far, we believe Miss Smith was poisoned. Poor Christopher, it must be difficult for him to be reminded of his late wife. I remember Miss Smith. She was a very good girl to Lady Horton, a loyal and dutiful servant."
"Poisoned?" Isabella asked nervously.
"Yes, and it's not a suitable subject for an early morning as fresh as this," replied Anderson.
"May I know who did it? The real suspects, without any concealment." Isabella requested impatiently,
"That, to the concern of the Court's legal terms, is forbidden to expose before a final conclusion is made on the suspect with abundant evidence collected and a final verdict from proper trials." Anderson replied and left rather rashly upon receiving a notice from his father to visit him in his library for preparing the upcoming trials.
***
A ball was held the following evening.
However, poor Isabella was all tangled up in thoughts by her ideas against the evil Lord Horton that the excitement in preparing for the grand welcoming ball was completely destroyed.
Margaret, on the other hand, was quite convinced that Horton was as innocent to the matter as they were, yet, such boring advice was immediately declined by Isabella who emerged herself so deeply within the fun in being a detective in her made-up fantasy. Therefore, Lord Horton, given to his cold and sick manner, was determined to be a bloodthirsty murderer in Isabella's gothic world.
"Izzie, what do you think of my blue dress?"
The volume and strength of the question were not enough to revive Isabella back to reality and her absent mindedness caused Margaret to ask the second time and when she still failed to capture Isabella's attention, she walked behind her and gave her right cheek a gentle friendly kiss. This, the sudden intimate touch, was enough to recall Isabella's consciousness.
"Ah! Upon my -"
"Oh, Izzie, you are back finally, goodness, come, what do you think of my blue dress?"
"Blue dress?"
"Yes." replied Margaret patiently.
"I find it all right," replied Isabella with a warm smile.
"Fine, it's a no then." Margaret pulled the dress down and walked around the fitting room with only her undergarment and petticoat, without the fear of getting a cold, she asked the maid, "Lola! Would you be so kind to help me bring my pastel pink one? Thank you."
"Ma'am, is it the one with lace at the skirt's brim or the one with puffy sleeves?"
"Oh, dear, of course definitely not the one with puffy sleeves."
Isabella giggled under her breath and wished that her dear Margaret would be like this gay and delightful all the time. She deserved to be happy and joyous.
"I think this looks good on me," Isabella looked at the mirror and remembered what mama used to tell her before every grand ball that a lady would not make a fool out of herself if she knew how to wear pistachio green within the air of elegance.
***
The ball began with Earl Lockwood giving a thankful speech to his new neighbours and friends. He explicitly proclaimed Isabella's presence as the second daughter to the powerful Earl Marchwood and spoke almost endlessly of the potential intimate attachment between the two families. It gave Isabella a terrible embarrassment and she felt the constant awareness of the guests' teasing at Earl Lockwood's vulgarity and vanity.
"I apologise for my father's lack of consideration when he made his speech," Anderson comforted Isabella as they were having the first dance of the ball.
Isabella gazed upon Anderson and discovered that charming smile and felt a tug at her heart. At that moment, she thought to herself that those same lips which made such a charming smile had locked with her lips before. She blushed at that idea but felt immediately the effects it did to her body, his touch casted on her like a shadow befallen and she believed if love was an action more than an emotion, it'd act exactly like that. So, again, she was deeply convinced that she was in love.
The music was changed. They bowed to each other and shifted partners. To Isabella's surprise, her new partner was - Lord Horton!
YOU ARE READING
Isabella's Choice (The Choice Series, Book 1)
Historical Fiction"Upon my words, Isabella! They mean nothing to me." he enclosed the distance between them by covering her in his arms. At her ear, his lips almost touched her skin, he whispered, "And now, Isabella, please tell me, who is your choice?" *** Isabella...
