Free Betrothed by Lori Snow Page A

belongings; very little left to put
in her single chest. Perhaps after she had given Marley and Blanche instructions
on the care of Olivet in her absence, she would have time to secure a couple of
her father’s books?  Simon wouldn’t miss them. They would be precious
mementos of happier days.
    Perhaps
she should consult the earl?
    She
paused in throwing her brushes on top of the gowns already packed. Perhaps she
should speak to the earl before going any further with her preparations. He may
have changed his mind. She may have misunderstood him.
    She
was half way through the door when Blanche barreled into her. The older woman
was solidly constructed and Isabeau bounced back several feet before catching
her balance.
    “Oh,
milady.” Tears of happiness streamed down the worn face as she pulled Isabeau
into a fierce hug. “You are going to be a countess. Your Lord Papa would be so
pleased. How many evenings did we sit in front of a blazing fire in the great
hall listening to Lord Charles regale us with tales of the young Donovan
d’Allyonshire?”
    Holding
Isabeau’s shoulders, Blanched pulled back and searched her face. “And you tried
to run away.”
    Isabeau
gasped. “How did you know?”
    Blanche
laughed. “I’ve known you since you were a babe. I could see the stirrin’s of a
plot in your eyes weeks ago. And think I didn’t miss you yesterday?”
    “Simon
doesn’t…” Isabeau’s instinctive panic was silenced by a Blanche’s callused hand
on her mouth.
    “You’ve
no need to worry about that one again,” Blanche cackled joyfully. “My lord will
see to that. You are going to be a countess.”
    “A
countess?” Isabeau backed away on weak knees and gratefully sank onto her hard
bed. “How can I be a countess?”
    “Tetch-tetch.”
Blanche scowled fiercely as she leapt to Isabeau’s defense. “What’s this? 
Any man—to the king hisself—would be proud to have you as his bride.”
    “How
can I be a countess?” Isabeau repeated her cry almost a wale. “How can I be a
countess when I don’t even know how to be a wife?”
    “Oh,”
Blanche blinked owlishly a couple of times before comprehension set in. “OH. I
see.”
    The
older woman closed and latched the door before sitting beside Isabeau on the
bed. She decisively patted the back of Isabeau’s hand with her work-worn one.
“You would have been too young before your momma died for her to—and your papa
wouldn’t have explained—well, I’ll do my best, child.”
    The
quick lessons in marital duties and responsibilities left Isabeau’s cheeks
burning with embarrassment and with more questions than before. When she tried
to ask one, Blanche patted her hand again with a little more force than before
and shook her head vigorously enough to shift her mop-cap.
    “It
is your husband’s place to answer your questions as he sees fit. Just follow
where he leads. The earl will have a care.”
    She
reached up and smoothed Isabeau’s hair. “Now, we need to get moving. I’ll
finish here. The earl said you were to take any keepsakes you wish. ‘Twill be a
while before you will be returning to Olivet.”
    “He
said that?”
    “Aye.”
    “Oh,
Blanche, I wish you were going with us.”
    “Now,
hush. You know I like the size of my nest as it is. I can cluck all I wish and
a half day’s ride is as far as I want to be from my grandbabies.”
    Isabeau
gave the sturdy woman’s shoulders an affectionate squeeze. “Thank you for so
much. I hope you have dozens more grandbabies the next time I see you.”
    “Go
on with you. Go pick out some of your papa’s books while you still have the
time.”
    Isabeau
laughed as she left the room. The housekeeper knew her all too well. She raced
to her father’s gallery. She wanted her mother’s portrait and a miniature she
had commissioned of her father for his birthday. The gallery also housed the
library.  
    She
was in the process of picking out several volumes when she heard the swishing
of silk