Page 12 of The Tailor's Treasure

"I did."A faint smile touched Isabel's lips."I've a few hours to myself, most days.Of late, it has been - difficult, finding ways to fill those hours.I have been too prone to ruminations that do me no good.The embroidery was a welcome distraction."

Constance took a deep breath."Would you like to do more of it?And be paid for your efforts?"Please say yes, she thought, surprising herself with the ferocity of her hope.It would be a good turn for her, of course - all her worries about completing Leah's dresses swept away in an instant - but it wasn't only that.She didn't just want any embroiderer to help her.She wantedIsabel- strange, prickly Isabel, who seemed to flinch away from kind words and spoke only enough of her past for Constance to glean that it had been an unhappy one.She wanted to see that faint smile on her face unfurl into real joy, unburdened by whatever cruel echoes still haunted her.She wanted the chance tomakeIsabel smile, and laugh, too.To see how she would look, what she would be.

She recognized these wants; she'd felt them before.They had not often boded well for her.But she still went on hoping.What else could she do?

"Paid," Isabel repeated.Her voice was doubtful."I - I would like to do more, certainly.If you wish to have your own garments embroidered, I would be glad to.But I cannot accept payment for it.Not when you have been so kind."

"Not my own garments, no."Although she certainly wouldn't mind it, come to that."Speaking truthfully, you happened across me at a poor time - or a good time, considering.With Peter as sick as he has been, I've not been able to make enough money to keep us all clothed and fed.Jack helps as he can, but he's not paid well enough to support a household of three, especially when the physician and the apothecary both demand payment for treating Peter.I borrowed from a moneylender, and he has been as kind and patient as he can be, but he has his own accounts to settle.He offered to have me prepare a new wardrobe for his daughter, and I agreed, but I doubt my skill is equal to the task.If you are willing, I would be - more than pleased to share in the work with you, and in the payment likewise."On finishing her short speech, she was slightly out of breath, but she didn't feel she could take in fresh air until she had an answer.

Isabel's look was inscrutable as always, her lower lip caught between her teeth."If you owe this man a great deal of money," she said, "and he is allowing you to repay him in work rather than coin, then surely there is no payment to be shared?"

"Only one of the dresses is meant as payment," Constance said, her pulse quickening.Isabel hadn't said yes, but she hadn't said no, either."The rest will be paid for as normal - he suggested three in total.The dresses would be six shillings each, possibly more if Leah - that's the daughter - finds the embroidery pleasing.So, twelve shillings in all, split evenly between the two of us."

"Six shillings," Isabel said, a little faintly.Constance couldn't blame her.If she'd been keeping house all her adult life, she likely hadn't had money of her own since she'd been married.Six shillings wasn't a great deal - it would not buy a house, or a horse, or a silk dress.But for a woman who lived on the goodwill of her family, it was a substantial improvement over what she had known before."I could not - that is, if you have need of the money, it would be poorly done of me to take it from you -"

"Nonsense," Constance said.Her pulse was rabbit-quick now."If you've done the work, why should you not be paid?"She meant to let it lie, give Isabel a moment to consider, but the situation was too urgent, and it left her too eager."Will you do the work?It would be - that is, I could not thank you enough, if you agreed.It would be the saving of us - Peter and Jack and I, that is."

And, she thought,it would mean you'd come back.A ridiculous thing for her to be thinking of, at a time like this; even if Isabel did agree, there was still weeks of work to be done to finish the dresses and ensure that she had enough money to keep herself and Peter fed, clothed, and housed.That was what she ought to be focused on, not Isabel's presence.Besides, there was no reason for her to believe that Isabel would want to come back more often than was strictly necessary.She had already learned a painful lesson about not expecting too much from the women she had known - hadloved, though of course, she did not yet know Isabel well enough to love her. But she felt she could, if she nurtured the possibility.There were any number of reasons for her not to do so, reasons to do with her and with Isabel and with the circumstances they both found themselves in.But when had she ever been wise enough to temper her softer feelings?

"I owe you that, and more," Isabel murmured.Constance did not think this was the case - an afternoon's kindness did not incur a life debt - but she said nothing."And - it would not be a great hardship, for me.As I have said, I enjoy embroidery, and I have time to fill."She had been looking down at Walter, who was still busily stuffing bread into his mouth, but now she looked back up at Constance."I will have to find someone to care for him - if I take up my needle while he is in the room, he will want to play with the thread, and he'll make a mess of things."She stroked his back, almost absent-mindedly."But my brother and his wife have told me before that they wish to see him more often - I might ask them if they would take him a few afternoons a week, to give me time to sew.I doubt they would refuse."

"To everyone's benefit," Constance said.She was not going to leap for joy like a child, but the impulse was there."I'm sure he would be happy to see his aunt and uncle, too."

"And his cousin."Isabel looked back down at her son, who had finished his bread and butter and was beaming up at her.Constance had to smother a laugh at the sight of him: while she assumed some of the butter had made its way into his mouth, the majority of it was smeared over his cheeks and chin.Isabel smiled a little, and took up the corner of her apron to wipe his face clean."Assuming they do agree, then yes, I'll do it.I'll be - happy to."Her voice caught a little, and a look of surprise crossed her face, as if she had not anticipated her own words.Constance wondered when she had been happy last.If she could make her happy again.

"Well then," she said, her heart soaring."We'll start as soon as you've spoken to your brother?It would be best to begin without delay."

"It would," Isabel agreed.She got to her feet, balancing Walter on her hip."That being the case, I'll go now.Best settle matters quickly, so we may begin.Three dresses, you said?"

Constance nodded."Perhaps a veil and tippets as well, if the dresses are to their liking."

"Then we shall be busy indeed."Isabel hesitated a moment, then extended her free hand towards Constance."Busy, and - glad of it, I think."

Constance reached out and caught Isabel's fingers in her grip, squeezing lightly.She could not stop herself from smiling; probably she looked downright giddy.Isabel's look was less transparent, but there was still a tentative joy there.Her fingers were chilly when Constance caught them, but they warmed quickly in her grip.It felt like an omen of things to come.If Constance were to fully give herself over to hope - and she could feel it happening regardless of her better sense - she would say it felt like a beginning.

# # #

As soon as Walter realizedwhere they were headed, he began to squirm in Isabel's arms like an especially vigorous eel.He chanted, "down, Mama, down.Mama, wantdown," as he dug his heels into her sides, batted at her hands while she tried to restrain him, and nearly succeeded in wriggling himself free entirely and toppling headfirst into the street.Isabel withstood this for a minute, then – with her arms aching, Walter's fussing growing in volume, and their destination safely in sight – she gave up and set him down.His feet had barely touched the ground before he was off, fairly sprinting down the street with Isabel close behind him – it didn'tseemas if there was much chance of him bolting into the road, but she was not about to take the chance – until he came, at last, to Matthew and Elizabeth's door.

Walter loved visiting his aunt and uncle – loved it so much that Isabel felt vaguely as if she should be insulted.Of course, lacking playmates at home, it was a boon for him to have a cousin close in age, but she sensed there was more to it than that.Home, to Walter, was an unhappy place: she kept him as shielded as she could from her spats with Hilda and Aline and Petronilla's teasing, but she saw his eyes following her as she went about her day and knew that she hadn't done enough.The smithy, on the other hand, was warm and bright; Elizabeth and Matthew were always laughing together over something or other, and Marian was so fussed over by both her parents that she ran the risk of becoming spoiled.No one in this household quarreled, or sniped, or insulted; no one tensed in fear when someone else entered the room, lest they find themselves on the wrong side of a bad temper.

When she had first been widowed, Matthew had offered to let her and Walter come and stay for as long as they needed, an offer she had refused for any number of reasons.Now, however, she wondered if it would not have been better for everyone if she had simply contrived to hand her son over to Matthew and Elizabeth permanently: they would surely have been able to offer him a better life than she could, or was.

Walter, entirely unaware of her thoughts, was growing impatient with waiting for her: he had begun to jump up and down in front of the door, trying in vain to reach the latch.Isabel came to rescue the door from his onslaught, reaching over his head to unhook the latch and push it open.In his excitement, Walter tumbled face-first into the room beyond, but the upset hardly seemed to perturb him.He was back on his feet in an instant, dashing inside with a series of babbled shrieks that were unintelligible to anyone but Isabel.

"You're here!"Elizabeth, who was seated at the kitchen table peeling turnips, looked up with a bright smile as Walter fairly crashed into her knees."It's good to see you both, it's been far too long.Marian, look who's come to see us!"She steered Walter one-handed around the legs of her chair to the spot in front of the fireplace where Marian sat playing with an assortment of wooden animals.She and Walter fell immediately to prattling at each other, nearly oblivious to the fact that there was anyone else in the room.

"It has been some time, it's true," Isabel said, lowering herself into the chair opposite Elizabeth.A safely noncommittal answer was all she could really offer.Every time she came to visit, they asked why it had been so long, and she had no real explanation to give.She could blame it on Hilda, which was not untrue – for as much as she did not seem to enjoy Isabel's company, she was still jealous of her time – but the truth was, Isabel kept away of her own accord.No matter how many times they assured her she was welcome, she never ceased to feel like an interloper in this household – at best, a tolerated guest, and at worst, a reminder of bad times.She had not forgotten how strenuously she had objected to Matthew and Elizabeth's marriage, and while they never brought the subject up, she knew they had not either.

"How have you been faring?"Elizabeth set her turnips aside and leaned forward in her seat, resting her cheek against one hand."Walter seems bigger whenever I see him.He's past his second birthday now, hasn't he?"

"He will be at Eastertide," Isabel said."So a few weeks, still."Through Elizabeth's eyes, she could see how her son had grown; but for her own part, she never ceased to fret over how small he was, whether or not he was eating enough to grow, or if he had inherited his father's weak lungs.She could blame that on her circumstances, but she suspected she would worry over him no matter what sort of household she lived in.It was a family trait."He and Marian are the same age, for the time being – didn't she turn one at Candlemas?"

"She did."Elizabeth cast a fond smile at her daughter, who was pushing one of the wooden animals around the floor while making rude sounds with her mouth."And she's near to outgrowing her cradle.A shame – I thought it would last longer, but all her height is in her legs, and she can't fit without curling up in a ball.We've been trying to settle her in the attic room, but she won't have it."

"She takes after Matthew, in that regard," Isabel said."He was always tall."

"He still is," Elizabeth said with a chuckle."He'll put Marian up on his shoulders for walks, and I can't reach high enough to take her down.It's fortunate he's no notion of running off with her, for I could surely never catch up with them.But she loves it – he can't set foot out of doors with her without her begging to be picked up."