“The wicked what of what?” Jason asked, his voice tinged with humor.
“You know Annie and Dougal are a Scottish fairytale come alive?” Mikey asked Jason as Isabella returned with the casserole dish and scooped a heavy spoonful onto Jason’s plate.
“What?” Jason asked, voice now tinged with confusion but also still with humor.
And who could blame him. Where was Mikey going with this?
It was only seconds later Isabella found out she didn’t want to know.
Mikey waved his hand around. “Separated for decades by tragedy, reunited, getting married, the whole fairytale come alive. That’s Annie and Dougal. Well, Bella’s fairytale includes a wicked warlock of a father and an evil duke who stole her away and was a cad and a bounder. But she finally escaped him and now she’s waiting for her knight in shining armor,” Mikey explained.
Isabella stood, holding the mostly empty casserole dish, staring at Mikey in horror.
Jason and Sally were both staring at Mikey with rapt faces. Then their eyes moved to Isabella.
That whole time, Prentice was simply staring at Isabella.
“You were married to a duke?” Jason asked.
“No, she was married to a –” Mikey started.
Isabella swiftly interrupted him by asking, “Prentice, do you want seconds?”
His eyes still locked on her, Prentice shook his head.
She walked directly to the kitchen wishing she could ignore this but she damn well couldn’t.
Sally turned to her father and asked, “Daddy, what’s a bounder?”
“Aye, and what’s a cad?” Jason asked right after Sally.
Isabella wondered how long it would take for Mikey’s body to wash ashore after she threw him over a cliff.
And, also, would they consider foul play if it was just a push?
“Both are names for not very nice men,” Prentice answered his children.
“I don’t like Miss Bella being with a not very nice man,” Sally said quietly.
Well, maybe Isabella would stab Mikey before pushing him.
Or, at least, conk him on the head.
“I don’t either,” Jason mumbled.
No, she decided she’d go with stabbing.
“How’d you get away from the evil duke?” Sally yelled as Isabella slid the apple crumble out of the oven and put it on a hot pad.
“She divorced him,” Mikey answered for her. “And took a boatload of his money with her when she did, thank God.”
Isabella rolled her eyes heavenward. Then she rolled them back and switched off the oven.
“Is she rich?” Jason asked, now amazement was tingeing his voice.
“Filthy,” Mikey answered.
“Miss Bella’s not filthy,” Sally stated crossly.
“Filthy rich, cutie pie,” Mikey amended.
Sally looked to her father as Isabella reluctantly resumed her seat next to the girl. “What’s that mean?”
“It means Miss Bella has a lot of money, baby,” Prentice answered, eyes on his daughter.
“Then Miss Bella can buy me a horse!” Sally shouted, turning bright eyes to Isabella.
Isabella turned irate eyes to Mikey. Mikey grinned.
“She’s not going to buy you a horse,” Prentice stated.
“But –” Sally began.
“No,” Prentice’s tone was firm and unyielding.
Sally’s face drooped into a pout and Isabella decided she’d conk Mikey on the head before stabbing him and then she’d push him over a cliff.
But before that, she had to make it through the night.
She turned to Sally. “I can’t buy you a horse, honey, but you can help me make the custard.”
“I like custard but I like horses better,” Sally retorted through her pout.
Isabella wrinkled her nose and replied, “Horses smell funny and they eat a lot. Custard smells yummy and you get to eat it.”
“Do you have a horse?” Sally asked and Isabella shook her head. “A dog?” she went on and Isabella kept shaking her head. “A cat?” Sally continued and Isabella grinned but kept shaking her head.
“I had a fish once,” she told the girl.
“You can’t pet a fish,” Sally returned.
“This is true,” Isabella murmured.
“And you can’t ride it, unless it was a dolphin. Was it a dolphin?” Sally asked.
“It was a goldfish and you couldn’t ride it. But it had a frilly tail and I named it Goldie.”
Sally gave herself a moment to consider this information.
Then she concluded, “A horse is better than a fish.”
Isabella’s grin widened to a smile and she leaned into Sally. “You got me there. A horse is definitely better than a fish. But horses are still smelly and eat too much. Now, do you want to help with the custard or not?”
Sally’s gave herself a moment to consider this as well, the pout disappeared, her eyes lit up and she awarded Isabella with a small grin.
“I wanna help with the custard,” Sally answered.
“Good girl,” Isabella whispered then looked at the table.
Jason was watching them with a goofy grin on his face.
Mikey was watching Prentice with a satisfied grin on his face.
Prentice was watching Isabella with an unreadable expression on his face.
Isabella decided to ignore it all and wait for Jason to finish his second helping.
“Do you want me to warm that up?” she asked Jason with a polite nod of her head to his plate.
Jason took the hint and started eating.
Mikey chuckled.
Prentice took a sip from his wine without taking his eyes off Isabella.
Sally asked, “Do we have to wait for Jace to finish to make the custard?”
“Yes,” Isabella replied at the exact same time Prentice answered, “Aye.”
At that, Mikey, for some barking mad reason, burst out laughing.
It took two and a half books to get Sally to sleep that night likely because she was wound up over dinner and guests and tales of knights in shining armor who had not yet arrived.
After tucking her in tightly and turning out the light, Isabella hustled out of her room.
Mikey had been downstairs alone with Prentice for two and a half books. No telling what antics he’d get up to.
She quickly walked down the dark hall and was closing on the stairs when she heard the end of something Prentice was saying.
“…Jason and Sally.”
To which Mikey immediately replied, “Of course she would. She lost her mother when she was eight. It isn’t the same, considering her mother slit her wrists, but she still lost her.”
Isabella’s body rocked to a halt and she stood, statue-still, out of sight at the top of the stairs.
She’d never told Prentice about how her mother had died. She wanted to, she’d even rehearsed what to say but she never found the right time.
And, if she was honest with herself, she didn’t want him to think bad things about her mother or her and what her mother’s act might make him think about Isabella.
There were bad vibes rolling up the stairs and pounding against Isabella but her mind was blank with panic and her body was numb with fear.
“I’m sorry?” Prentice asked softly.
“You didn’t know?” Mikey replied, then after a long, pregnant moment, he muttered, “Oh my God, you didn’t know.”
There was more silence, more bad vibes rolling and Isabella didn’t move a muscle.
Then Mikey decided he hadn’t yet finished sharing. “She found her, Prentice. Eight years old and Bella found her mother in a bathtub filled with blood.”
Isabella’s mind shut out the rest of the words and she took a step back then another one, automatically seeking retreat.