Isabelle
The heat of the afternoon had just worn off, and the servants were setting up for a small dinner service outside. It was small and quaint, with ivory accents through out the table. There were only enough settings for two, even thought the entire household consisted of six.
Margaret was assisting her maid with Isabelle’s hair. It had taken Margaret two weeks of constant consulting and teasing to get her friend to agree to this dinner with the stranger. It was almost too good to be true, and Margaret was honestly feeling like all her time praying had not gone in vain. That her friend would indeed get her happy ending, her family, and have true love all at the same time. Who better to have it, who in all the world was ever a better friend. No one deserved this more than Isabelle.
The stranger had arrived early and waited outside, sitting at the table and sipping a sherry.
Isabelle walked out, and felt nervous as she neared the table.
The stranger stood up at her arrival, and sat after she was seated.
She didn’t look directly at his face, she was avoiding as much eye contact as possible. In fact the first part of the meal was eaten in absolute silence.
The stranger never spoke a word, just ate politely and quietly. Nodding only to the servants when they were needed, he watched Isabelle discreetly.
Finally after dessert had arrived he decided to break the silence. “I am certainly glad you accepted my invitation. I was beginning to think after the second refusal, maybe you found some fault with me I was unaware of.”
His voice seemed familiar to her, like he was someone she knew from long ago. She resisted the urge to look up, and glanced out at the flowers.
“Or perhaps you have found some fault in me.” The stranger continued to speak. “You dare not glance my way, have I caused you reason to feel uncomfortable. I assure you my only wish in this life is to have you find comfort and pleasure. It would do me great disservice to know I have frightened you or caused ill will.”
“No.” Isabelle stopped him. “I find no displeasure in you.”
“But you search the grounds as if you look for escape from me.”
Isabelle turned at looked at the stranger, into his light green eyes. Her heart began to pound furiously in her chest, as the breath within her seemed to evaporate. She quickly looked away.
“I think I’m right.” The stranger sat back in his chair to distance himself as much as he could from her. “You look at me and I see fear in your eyes. Now you search the grounds harder for an escape.”
He scooted his chair out and stood. “I think I will leave you to this fine evening and cause you no more anxiety.”
Isabelle thought to stop him, but the words would not go any further than her imagination.
The stranger left her presence without another word.
Isabelle took a deep breath, and after she was sure he had gone she stood and walked towards the garden area. Was she being paranoid? Thomas had not shown up or left word in years. Was she so afraid that she would now see him at every turn? Would she see him in every man she met? She shook her head slightly as if it would remove the thoughts, but it did not. She was still very much afraid. Afraid that she might find happiness, and Thomas would show up to destroy her.