Wait.
The figure being helped down from the carriage wasn’t grey-haired like the one in the fine waistcoat next to him. It was a young man, moving with painful slowness. The two male servants were positioned at his sides, supporting his weight as they made their way to the front door where Sir Clarence was waiting. Isobel leaned back from the window as the group disappeared inside.
How sad. The count’s heir was obviously in very poor health. And it was unmistakably the younger of their two guests. Though he had moved with careful precision, the figure being assisted through the Montgomery’s front door had to have been Matteo Garibaldi. He was still fit, with broad shoulders and dark midnight hair. Whereas the Conte Santa Fiora had gone grey and had a discernible roundness about the middle.
Why would they come all this way with an invalid?
The Garibaldis had traveled weeks and weeks to reach this cold and rainy corner of England. But wouldn’t the warm and sunny climate of Italy have suited an invalid’s delicate constitution better? Especially with winter fast approaching.
Perhaps the illness was recent.
There was little point in speculating, Isobel told herself firmly as she climbed into bed. It was late and her days were full. No doubt the servants would have gleaned all the information about their guests by morning.
Between the upstairs maids, the grooms, and the kitchen staff there were no secrets in the Montgomery household. It was an efficient machine for gossip, one wasted on a completely respectable and slightly dull family. But now the servants finally had something to talk about. Her curiosity would be satisfied tomorrow.
Chapter 2
The next day, Isobel woke early. As soon as the sun had broken through her windows she was dressed, preparing to get her charges up and fed so they could have their first lesson out of doors. She wanted to take advantage of the fine morning to give her pupils a biology lesson before all the leaves fell from the trees.
Breakfast in the servants hall was full of empty gossip. Very few of the staff had glimpsed their guests since the Garibaldis had arrived so late. But the day was still young, she thought quickly drinking her tea and rushing to join the children.
A few hours later, Isobel was making excuses not to go back inside. The fine weather had lasted beyond her intended lesson, so she and the children lingered going over their readers outside on the lawn near the edge of the woods.
“Ms. Sterling, can we go to the stables, please?” Martin piped up from the blanket where they sat, interrupting the recitation he had been making at Isobel’s instruction. “I’d like to show Amelia my pony.”
Little Amelia, the Montgomery’s ward, nodded eagerly, her face filled with anticipation. The children were due inside for lunch soon, but she could hardly say no to the yearning in those big blue eyes.
Amelia had been living with the Montgomery’s for only a short time, a few weeks longer than Isobel herself. The little one was still quite timid about voicing her desires and wishes. Isobel didn’t want to discourage her from expressing herself, and she often wondered if Amelia had been as timid when her parents were still alive.
“Very well. Once you finish that passage,” she said agreeably.
The children smiled at each other, and Isobel marveled yet again at how easy they were to please. She bade Martin to continue with his recitation. As his clear bell-like voice filled the air, she let her mind wander. Martin was a fine reader and rarely made mistakes. But Amelia was still shy and often stumbled over the words. Isobel wanted her to grow more comfortable before she had her read aloud during lessons. Listening to Martin was one way for her to prepare.
Breathing deeply, Isobel leaned back on the blanket and closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face. With her auburn hair and pale complexion, she had to be careful not to get too much sun or she would freckle. Despite that, she couldn’t help enjoying what decent weather they did get here, especially now that the days were growing shorter and shorter.
A prickling sensation at the back of her neck made her eyes fly open. She sat up and looked down at her charges. Martin was still reading diligently, Amelia’s eyes trained on him. But someone was watching them. She could feel it. Turning surreptitiously, she caught sight of an upright figure standing on the other end of the lawn near the stables.