Chapter Four: Meet Isabelle Baker

Across town Isabelle Baker sat distractedly in her mother’s drawing room receiving visitors. It was not really a task that she was fond of. Her mother, however, was insistent on her daughter joining her every day. Isabelle never really understood what her mother and her friends found to talk about. It was all the same to her. They would go to a party and then the next day they would all sit around and talk about everything that happened. It was dull as dishwater. No. Isabelle would much prefer to be seated at her piano, or sharing a story with her father in his book room but it was not to be. Instead it was just an endless stream of idle town gossip.

Her father, was by far her biggest support when it came to her love of the arts. Though she had never really wanted for education she always found more solace in her father’s library than in her mother’s sewing room. They spent hours talking over topics that usually were considered too radical for a woman. Things like mathematics, and philosophy, and Latin. Her father never once made her feel inferior. Never made her feel like less of a person. It was not until her eldest sister managed to marry did her mother begin to drag her out of the book room and into society.

And as her mother always said, "There is no place for your make believe here, Isabelle. It will be hard enough to find you a husband." So here she sat next to Alice her companion of five years and pretended to pay attention to the others around her.

Currently there was only one caller, the ever incorrigible Mrs. Holding. This particular lady had been a very close acquaintance of her mother for many years. They had both married upstanding men in the ton and lived very close. She was a never ending fount of useless information, in Isabelle’s opinion. Today the topic of discussion was apparently a new arrival to their particular neighborhood. There was a new gentleman in town for the season, it seemed. Though this obviously sent both of the elder ladies in the room into a matchmaking flutter, all it did was fill Isabelle with dread. Just one more man to think she is too plain. Just one more man to think her too impertinent. Just...one more man.

Men came and went all the time, what significance it held mattered not one jot to Isabelle. Never the less it apparently mattered a great deal to her mother, so she pressed for every detail of her friend. “Why yes, Mrs. Baker! To be sure. I have just had it from Lady Newberry herself,” said Mrs. Holding. “His name is Mr. Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire, and a fine estate it surely is. It is worth hardly less than 5,000 a year. His mother, you may remember, was dear friends with Lady Newberry. She left town to help him care for his poor children. And then there was that dreadful business with his sister.” Isabelle heard the wild swishing of cloth as the lady waved her arms in the air and the soft sound of tea drinking followed.

“What ever do you mean, Mrs. Holding?” Mrs. Baker asked excitedly.

“Well, you know I am not one to gossip,” Mrs. Holding said placing her tea on the table. Isabelle had to hold back a very unladylike snort. That was quite possible the most ridiculous thing that the lady had said that day. Alice rapped lightly on Isabelle's leg in reprimand, but she knew that Alice was of the same mind as she. “It was quite shocking. From what I hear she could have married a very fine gentleman from Derbyshire with a good fortune, the son of an earl no less...and she refused!”

“No!” Mrs. Baker exclaimed.

“I know. She had evidently been introduced to a Mr. Gardiner, the son of a local tradesman. Though he was a wealthy man, I hardly think that money can make up for situation. She thought herself so infatuated that she married him. Can you believe that? To be so infatuated to marry so far beneath her station. It was a full two years before she was admitted back into company again, and then it was only because Lady Newberry had taken an interest in the poor girl. I am sure her mother was so disappointed. Then her son married an unknown from the country. It caused quite a rift in the family.”

How absurd that both ladies would find marrying for love over monetary and social gain so preposterous. Isabelle envied this Mrs. Gardiner for her strength. If only she could be so strong. She unintentionally sighed. Sound seemed to stop for a brief moment and Isabelle could feel them looking at her. It made her decidedly uncomfortable and she fiddled with her hands. They continued their conversation. “And you said he was a widower, Mrs. Holding?”

Isabelle internally groaned. She regretted not paying attention earlier. Her mother was all a flutter over some old widower. He was probably closer in age to Isabelle’s father than to Isabelle.

“Yes,” Mrs. Holding's tone turned sad, “His late wife passed six years ago.”

“Six years?” Mrs. Baker could not hide the surprise in her voice. Six years was quite excessive for a period of mourning. Most widowers were out after the first year was over. “That shows quite a devotion to her, does it not?” her mother asked with admiration.

“Indeed it does.” Mrs. Holding nodded once again.

“You mentioned children?” Alice piped up.

Mrs. Holding made a surprised noise at the question but answered happily. “Two girls I do believe, both still very young obviously. The eldest has not reached her eighth year.”

Mrs. Baker took a sip of her tea and posed the question she had more than likely been holding in the whole time. “Is he to attend tomorrow’s ball then?”

“Yes, I believe he is. Along with his mother and I do believe his sister and her husband will be in attendance as well. I will of course have Mr. Holding make the introductions.”

“Wonderful, absolutely wonderful.” Isabelle’s thoughts were lined perfectly with her mother’s but she doubt she meant it the same way, for she was thinking that it was the exact opposite. Seeing her slouch in her chair, Mrs. Baker immediately reprimanded, “Isabelle, do sit up child!”

She corrected her posture and muttered, “Sorry, mama.”

The following day Mrs. Baker took pains in making sure her daughter looked her best. She had barged into her daughters room before she had even arisen for the day. She walked immediately to the closet and flung open the door. She was talking to herself as she flipped through each dress there. Each one she found lacking. One had sleeves that were much too short to still be in fashion, the fact that it was a dress that had been ordered not the week before apparently mattered little. Another was the wrong shade of blue, lighter blues only washed out her complexion. She needed deeper hues. Another yet had the wrong style of lace on the trim. It was far too old fashioned and intricate, not at all like the simple lace that her sister would have chosen. Mrs. Bennet would see that as a lack of fashion, it would not do. Isabelle just sat there in her bed and let her mother fret.

As quickly as she entered then she was gone into her sisters room. She entered a few moments later as Isabelle was sitting in front of her looking glass for her maid to brush out her hair. “This should fit you perfectly my dear! It's the white muslin and lace gown that your sister ordered before her engagement last year. Poor dear never did get the chance to wear it...” though Isabelle's eyes were closed she could imagine her mother stroking the dress sadly as she said this. “It might not look as well as it would on your sister but it will do very nicely. It will look very good against your complexion. You have gotten quite tan.” Having said what she needed to Mrs. Baker turned to the maid. “Tonight, Sarah make sure you style her hair with the jeweled pins. It will hopefully make her red hair look less wild. And leave none of it loose this time. The tighter you pull it the thinner her face will look and she needs all the help she can get. Honestly Isabelle why you don't try harder to loose weight I'll never understand. It will be difficult enough finding a man willing to take you on, without you being too large as well.”

Isabelle tried to hold in the sigh at her mother’s comments. She felt her maid Sarah give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Isabelle smiled sadly in return. Sarah was a sweet girl and had been with the family since she was born. Before her father hired Alice, Sarah was her closest friend and companion. Isabelle tried not to let her mother's comments bother her. It was not as though she had never heard them before. She had been saying things like that ever since she could remember. Isabelle’s sister, Amelia had been the beauty of the family. The consummate English rose according to Alice's description anyway. Thin and tall, with straight blonde hair and blue eyes, that were set in a symmetrical face. Isabelle had always paled in comparison in her mother's eyes. Her face was not symmetrical, her eyes were an unusual shade of greenish gray and were set in a round face, her nose was too small to be fashionable and her hair...her mother despaired of her hair. While all of the other Bakers (save her youngest brother) had managed to avoid inheriting her father’s unruly red locks, Isabelle was not so lucky.

Thankfully it was not too long before her mother left the room once more so that her daughter could get dressed for the day. Isabelle's maid Sarah gave her a sympathetic pat on the arm as she helped her into her day dress. The servants were always more understanding than her mother. She made her way over to the shelf next to her bed and selected one of the thick books. Book in hand she quietly crept down the stairs and past her mother’s watchful eye and into the park. Her mother would be furious, that was sure, but she had to get out of the house.

Though it was decidedly unwise to be out unaccompanied, especially in her condition, Isabelle could not be contained. The park was indeed a large one. One with enough places to hide that her mother would never be able to locate her. Isabelle’s favourite respite was by a secluded little pond. There was a fine tree that acted as a shade from the mid day sun as well as a fine place to lean. Alice knew where to find her if she needed to and it was here that she was able to escape for a little while from everything.

Here she could pretend to be anyone she wanted. The beautiful Helen, who inspired the men of Troy into battle. The brave Joan who was a woman among men and all the stronger for it. The exotic Scheherazade who told the king fanciful tales so real that he was afraid to ever part from her. Yes, here she could be anyone but plain, boring, not as pretty or talented as her sister, Isabelle Baker.

It was not long until her solitude was broken. The noise was loud enough to cause alarm however Isabelle relaxed when she heard the voice of a delightful young girl speak. “See I told you, Janie! This is where I saw the momma duck! She had lots and lots of babies.” So they were here to see the pond then. Isabelle had heard the light splashing and quacking of the duck family when she sat down. The child could not be too old, she sounded very young perhaps five or six, but her speech was very well practiced.

A slightly older voice joined her, sounding a little distraught. Perhaps she had been dragged here by the other? “ 'Lizbeth," she said sounding ever bit the adorable flower, "we should not have left Nanny, and Miss Hamilton. Grandmother will be very upset.”

“You worry too much, Janie. I just want to feed the ducklings.” The sound of a paper being unfolded was followed by the sound of happy surprised quacking. The ducks rushed over to their new friend, almost too quickly as they tried to swim over each other in the process. The pair of girls giggled at the cute antics and Isabelle could not contain her light giggle either,

It was then that the girls seemed to realise they were not the only ones in the little alcove. “I beg your pardon.” said the youngest one. In a way that seemed much too old for her. “My name is Elizabeth. This is my sister Jane." A slight pause happened and Isabelle smiled politely. "I do not wish to bother you Miss I only wish to feed the ducks.” With nothing further to say Elizabeth began doing just that. The blonde looked at her sister and then at Isabelle, before once again focusing on the ducklings and their very hungry mama. Isabelle sat her book down and sat up on her knees to study them as best she could.

It was wonderful to see the easy relationship between the two siblings. Nothing like it had been between her elder sister and her. Her sister had always held her in a sort of tempered disdain. Yet maybe that would come as they got closer to maturity. Isabelle hoped not. She found herself hoping they always stayed this way.

It was an odd thought to have, since she did not even know who these young girls belonged to. It was obvious from their speech that they were not some of the children of the street. No these were gentle young things. She asked questions as they threw bread into the otherwise still water. Though Jane was quiet and obviously very shy, Elizabeth answered all of Isabelle’s questions in a very forthright manner. They were new to town. Their family lived on the other side of the park. Their nanny and governess would not let them come to the pond, so they waited until they were distracted and took off. Nanny was more than likely going to be very cross and so was their grandmother who Isabelle gathered was responsible for their upbringing. It was then that she heard two voices calling the little girls names.

She knew her time with these darling little things would be coming to an end soon. “Well, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Jane, I do believe that your Nanny will be very cross with you, you should not have run away like that. It is not safe for you to be out here alone.” She knew that she had to be the adult in this situation, she had to try to make them understand the danger of the situation they had been in. After all what if someone else had happened upon them, two helpless little girls? Isabelle shuttered at the thought.

“But you are out here alone?" Elizabeth asked.

“I am much older.” Isabelle tried to argue weekly. "However, you are right I should not be here alone either?"

“What is your name?” Miss Elizabeth asked.

“I am Miss Isabelle Baker,” Isabelle answered a little taken aback at the young girls.

Elizabeth studied her for a moment. Isabelle did not know what she saw but it was enough for the young girl to put her small hand on her arm and say “But we’re not alone Miss Isabelle, you’re here.”

Isabelle was quite speechless. What was someone to say to something like that. Though the child was right technically it was not the point of the argument. Thankfully Elizabeth did not seem to expect a reply. "I like you Miss Isabelle."

No other words could be spoken because a very distraught looking woman came dashing down the path at that moment. "Miss Elizabeth! Miss Jane! There ye girls are." This must be Nanny, then. She seemed like a nice enough woman. Though the girls disobeyed her, Isabelle would not have stood for the lady being physical with the little ones. Isabelle was happy that though she was cross there was a great sigh of relief and an undertone of deep love. The older woman turned her attention from the girls to Isabelle. " I beg your pardon, Miss"

Isabelle smiled warmly at the woman. "You are fine. I suppose these little ones belong to you then?”

“Aye ma’am. I apologise if they’ve disturbed you.”

“Not at all. I have found the conversation very interesting.” Isabelle smiled. It had been an interesting morning...just what she needed to take her mind off that Bennet man that her mother was forcing her to meet tonight.

“Now girls, say goodbye to your new friend. We have to get you back.”

“Goodbye, Miss Isabelle,” both girls chorused.

Isabelle could not help but smile. She loved children. Children were often more accepting of differences. She wondered if they even noticed. Though she was not in general too pleased with the idea of marriage, she wanted children. She wanted a family. One to call her own. One to raise in her own fashion. The appearance of the two little girls reminded her of that need.

It was some time later that Isabelle returned to her house. Her mother was in a fit. Though there was still some three hours till they would need to depart for the ball Mrs. Baker insisted that Isabelle be stripped and scrubbed immediately. She just sat numbly in the chair thinking of little Elizabeth and Jane and if she would ever meet them again.