Page 19 of Tamed By a Passionate Lady
Her face burnt with shame, and embarrassment. Was Isabel encouraging her to return her brother’s feelings?
She had to nip it in the bud. She had to downplay it. She trusted the girl, but she did not want word to get back to her brother that she was encouraging him in any way, nor even that she took his admiration seriously.
“I only see your brother as a friend, Isabel,” she said slowly. “I have perceived his admiration, but it is only a passing fancy, I am sure of it.” She hesitated. “We are so isolated out here that I am the only woman he can admire, after all. I suspect that he is just bored…”
“Oh, I am so sorry,” said Isabel, reddening. “Please, do excuse me. I meant no disrespect.”
Adaline’s face softened. “It is quite alright, Isabel…”
Isabel bit her lip, clearly mortified. “Youarebeautiful, Adaline, and I only meant that my brother has noticed, that is all.” She paused. “He noticeseverythingthat James has, which he does not…”
“What do you mean?” Adaline sat up straighter, staring at the woman.
“Reuben has always been jealous of James,” said Isabel slowly. “He has told me that he thinks it unfair that James has so much wealth since his father died, and was able to purchase this house and estate without having to be a part of the family business anymore. He has freedom to live wherever he wants, while Reuben is still burdened with working for our father in our shipping business in Liverpool. The only reason Papa has excused him for so long is because he is minding me…”
Adaline became very still. She did not want Isabel to stop talking.
“Reuben has always felt like James’ offsider,” she continued, frowning a little. “James did so well at school, you see, while Reuben was always getting into trouble with Papa because his grades never measured up.” She paused. “Ever since they were children, Reuben has wanted what James has…I am sure his feelings for you are just a part of that. You are right to not take it seriously.”
Adaline frowned. She simply had no idea that Reuben felt this way about James. But then, why would she? It wasn’t as if her husband confided in her, about anything. And even if hehadspoken about his relationship with his close friend, he mightn’t have said anything, anyway. James might not even realise that Reuben was jealous of him.
In one sense, it was a relief. If Reuben was merely pursuing her out of jealousy, then it was not genuine at all, and perhaps he would let it go very quickly. But on the other hand, she knew that jealousy was a very strong emotion; it might make Reuben evenmoretenacious in his pursuit of her, refusing to accept that she could not be his.
It was all making sense now. Reuben’s continual insistence that James would not care if they had an affair; that her husband was completely indifferent to her. There was something almost contemptuous in the way that he said it. And what kind of a person makes such a persistent play at his friend’s wife, anyway? It smacked of a complete lack of respect for James.
“Adaline?” Isabel’s voice was small. “You are not angry with me, are you? I do apologise if I caused you any offence – it was not intended. I just wanted to show you that youarea lovable, beautiful woman, that is all…”
Adaline jumped slightly, out of her reverie. She leaned forward, taking the younger woman’s hand gently in her own.
“I am not offended,” she said slowly. “I know that you were only trying to bolster my spirits, dear Isabel. Think no more on it.”
Isabel looked so relieved, that her eyes filled with tears. “I love my brother, Adaline. Do not think badly of him, either. I recognise Reuben’s faults, but he has always been a kind and considerate brother to me. I am sure his admiration of you will pass, as you say, and he means no disrespect to you…”
Adaline smiled reassuringly. “Yes, I am sure you are right.” She picked up her pencil. “Now, shall we do this likeness or not, Isabel? We do not want to waste this wonderful morning light.”
***
Adaline gazed down at the finished portrait. There was something that still dissatisfied her, but she could not quite put her finger on it.
It was often like this. Drawing had always been her passion, ever since she was young, and her parents had praised her lavishly, saying that she was very talented. But she was a perfectionist, often spending hours reworking fine details, to the point where her father would scold her, telling her that she was beingtoometiculous.
She considered the drawing, tilting her sketchbook so that she could study it from all angles. The face staring back at her clearly belonged to Isabel Montgomery – she had captured her fine bone structure, the shape of her eyes and face, and her hair, swept back into a low chignon.
Suddenly, she knew what was missing. She had not captured that dreamy look in the young woman’s eyes. She bent over the paper, her hand moving quickly as she corrected it.
“Have you finished yet, Adaline?” asked Isabel, in a weary voice. “I fear I am growing stiff…”
“All done,” said Adaline. “Do you want to see it?”
The young woman nodded, her pale blue eyes glowing. Adaline handed her the book.
“Oh, my,” said Isabel, in a tremulous voice, as she gazed down at the portrait. “I cannot believe that is me, and yet, I know that it is.” She looked up at Adaline. “You have made me beautiful. How have you accomplished it?”
“I only draw what I see,” said Adaline slowly. “The portrait shows a beautiful young lady because thatiswhat you are, dear Isabel.”
Isabel’s eyes filled with tears. “I do not recognise it,” she said, her voice shaking. “For so long, all I have ever been is the sick girl. The invalid.” She hesitated. “I have never dared hope that I would one day leave that role behind, and become a woman who may have a future ahead of her…”
“You are fearful,” said Adaline, a thick lump forming in her throat.
