Page 32 of A Captain For Clarissa
“Oh, how lovely,” Clarissa said, looking to see if there might be a tea pot hiding anywhere. She had never been fond of coffee. Well, there was a good-sized jug of milk on the side; she would simply drink that.
“Você não gosta de café?“ the maid asked, pointing at the coffee pot when Clarissa poured only milk into her cup.
Clarissa could guess the meaning, even if she didn’t understand the exact words. She pointed at the coffee pot, wrinkled her nose, shook her head and smiled apologetically. The maid nodded and disappeared, and Clarissa hoped she hadn’t offended her. Trying a bite of the cake, she discovered it was delicious, strongly flavoured with honey, cinnamon and cloves. She could definitely get used to Portuguese desserts!
The maid returned with a large jug of grape juice, and Clarissa smiled happily. She thanked her as best she could. The coffee pot was taken away, and Clarissa enjoyed her afternoon tea in solitary peace, gazing out of the window at the view.
A knock at the door a few minutes later proved to be Rafael, who stayed outside when she opened it.
“Isabella wishes to meet you,” he said, smiling broadly. “I am so relieved to have her safe and on the mend, I find myself unable to refuse her anything.”
“I’d love to meet her!” Clarissa stood up immediately. “I’m very eager to make her acquaintance.”
Rafael offered his arm to escort her, and they ascended another flight of stairs to the next floor of the castle, which was evidently the family quarters. Rafael stopped outside a wooden door, knocked once, then opened it without waiting for any response.
Clarissa moved through the doorway, her eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through gauzy curtains. The room was sparsely furnished, but a kind of elegant simplicity prevailed.In the centre of the room, propped up against a mountain of pillows, lay Isabella.
“Lady Clarissa.” Isabella greeted her in a faint but clear voice, speaking English as perfectly as her brother. Her skin was ghostly pale, almost translucent, and dark shadows framed her eyes, though they were bright and intelligent. “It’s an honour to meet you.”
“The honour is mine, Isabella,” Clarissa said warmly, moving to take a seat beside the bed. “I have heard so much about you, and your great fortitude in this difficult time.”
“Fortitude.” Isabella gave a weak smile. “Patience would be more accurate, I think.”
“Patience is something I often find myself lacking,” Clarissa confided, hoping to coax another smile from the girl. “But I think you must have learned it well.”
“When one has no choice but to lie abed all day, one learns patience out of necessity rather than virtue,” Isabella replied, though her eyes seemed brighter now.
“Perhaps I might offer some distraction?” Clarissa suggested, leaning forward with a conspiratorial air. “Rafael tells me you are quite the scholar, with a keen mind and a love of literature.”
“Does he now?” Isabella’s expression softened, and she glanced over at her brother, standing quietly by the door. “He always did know how to flatter me.”
“Flattery or not, I should love to hear your thoughts on some of my favourite books,” Clarissa continued, sensing she had hit upon the right note. “And perhaps tell you some of my own stories.”
“That sounds delightful,” Isabella said, colour coming into her cheeks. “It has been too long since I could enjoy a good conversation.”
“Then we shall make up for lost time,” Clarissa said firmly, settling back into her chair. “Tell me, what were your favourite stories growing up?”
“Oh, many,” Isabella said, her voice gaining strength as she spoke. “But my favourite memories are of Rafael telling me the legends of our ancestors. He made them come alive, so I felt I stood beside them in battle or rode with them across the plains. This old castle became a living, breathing place when he told me his tales.”
“Ah, the power of a good story.” Clarissa nodded, understanding. “Words can turn even the dullest days into grand adventures.”
“Yes.” Isabella smiled, her eyes sparkling. “In this room, they have been my escape.”
“Then we shall make new stories together,” Clarissa promised her, feeling a kinship with the younger woman. “Every day is a chance for a new beginning, no matter what life brings us.”
“Thank you, Lady Clarissa,” Isabella said sincerely. “You have already brought brightness into my day.”
“Call me Clarissa, please,” Clarissa insisted, reaching to gently take Isabella’s hand. “We are friends, aren’t we?”
“Yes, Clarissa.” Isabella’s face lit up with a smile. “Friends indeed.”
Standing silently by the door, Rafael smiled too.
Chapter Twelve
Sunlight streamed through thelace curtains, casting delicate shadows across Isabella as she reclined in bed, propped up with plump pillows. Her cheeks were finally tinged with rose rather than pallid with illness.
Clarissa perched on the edge of her seat, feeling as though she might burst at the seams with questions. During the last few days sitting at Isabella’s bedside, she’d learned to temper her natural tendency to chatter and prod, allowing the other girl to rest. But now, seeing strength and vitality beginning to return, Clarissa could scarcely contain her eagerness to truly get to know Rafael’s sweet younger sister.
