Page 32 of The Tailor's Treasure

"Your mama's resting," Constance said."And so we must find some occupation for you where you'll not be underfoot.So what may that be?"She knew she couldn't leave Walter to his own devices in the main room or the kitchen: good-natured as Tib was, the cat could not be relied upon to keep a toddler out of mischief.Besides, he was too prone to outbursts of joyful noise to have him so close to his mother's bedroom while she was resting.He'd have to go either upstairs or outside.But Constance could not accompany him to either destination to keep watch: she needed to be close enough by Isabel that she could hear if she called out, and to guard against her illness worsening without intervention.She could go across the way to ask Lucy to watch him; but that would require explaining the matter to her, which would take more time than she wished to spend away from Isabel's bedside.Besides, Lucy had her own little ones to watch over.What she needed was an adult who was close at hand and not otherwise occupied to keep an eye on Walter until Isabel woke.And only one such came to mind when she thought about it.

"Needs must," she muttered to herself, then hoisted Walter in her arms – he laughed, so she jogged him again to amuse him – and stepped across the room to pluck a few toys from the chest before going up the stairs and into the attic bedroom.Peter was in bed, as she'd known he would be; providentially, he was also awake, staring out the window as he picked at a loose thread on the coverlet.He didn't look up when she opened the door, or when she crossed the room.In fact, he took no notice of her at all until she dropped Walter unceremoniously on the bed and announced, "I need you to watch him awhile."

Peter would hate to hear her describe him as gawking, but there was no other fitting word for the look on his face.He looked at her, then at Walter, then back to her."I beg your pardon?"

"His mother's downstairs, and sick near to fainting," Constance said.Walter, having recovered quickly from the surprise of being dropped on the bed, began crawling up to where Peter sat.Peter, for his part, appeared too baffled to notice."She needs me to nurse her, and someone must keep him out of mischief.You've no other pressing business today, so the task is yours."

Walter had made his way to the head of the bed, and was now patting Peter's face with both chubby hands.He poked at one of the pitted scars on his cheek, and Peter pushed his hand away – but, Constance noted, he didn't snap the way he once might have."And you thinkIhave any business watching him?I've no notion of how to entertain a child, and no skill at it besides.And how am I meant to keep him out of trouble when I cannot rise from this bed?"

"You needn't entertain him, he can do that himself."Constance removed the toys – a wooden horse and a ball – from her apron pocket and dropped them both on the bed.Walter's eyes lit up, and he crawled back down to pick up the horse."You've your crutch there, you can use it if need be.I'll close the door so he can't wander.And you can always shout for me if you're in need of assistance."She raised her eyebrows."Unless you mean to tell me you're so reduced in strength that you cannot keep a child of two in check.You may well tell me that, if you wish.I've not heard a good joke all day, and it would do me good."

Peter looked down at Walter, who was now wholly absorbed in the toy horse.His brows knitted together in the middle of his forehead – but he didn't snap, and he didn't scowl."He'll be wanting clean clothes and a meal soon enough."

"I'll bring them up when you call for them," Constance said.She paused a moment, waiting for him to make some further objection, but none was forthcoming.When she was certain the day was won, she added, "thank you.It's a good service you've done, for him and for his mother."

Peter gave her a sly look."And for you as well, I suppose."

This was a conversation Constance didn't have time for – especially not now, when the speech Isabel had stumbled through before her collapse indicated that they had a great deal to settle before Constance could speak of it to anyone else."You've freed my hands for another task," she said, "so yes, it's a service for me as well.Thank you."She turned quickly and left, shutting the door behind her before Peter could offer a rejoinder.

Back downstairs, she retrieved a bit of piecework – the sleeve for Leah's wedding dress, which was only half-sewn and which she'd planned to spend the afternoon finishing – and returned to the bedroom, pulling up a stool beside the bed so she could sit.Before she did so, she bent over to feel Isabel's forehead.It was warm, but not dangerously so – likely the state she was in owed more to exhaustion than to fever.Her face was pale, which was another good sign – there was no telltale flush of fever.A proper sleep would put her to rights, and Constance was perfectly content to let her rest as long as she needed to.

# # #

Isabel's return toconsciousness was slow.The first thing she noticed was that her head no longer ached as fiercely as it had before – some pain still lingered, but it was manageable.The second thing she noticed was that the surface she was lying on – a bolster?– was more comfortable by far than the narrow bed she was accustomed to sleeping in at home.And the third thing, realized in conjunction with the first two, was that she was in Constance's bedroom.

She raised herself up on her elbows and looked around.But for her, the room was empty of people.Where Constance had gone, she couldn't guess.The dress she'd put on that morning was folded neatly and draped across the foot of the bed, just the way she laid out Walter's clothes every night.The shutters were closed, with no light seeping through the cracks; either the day had grown cloudy, or night had fallen.How long had she slept?And - her heart seized in her chest at the thought – where was Walter?

She was in the act of pushing the bedclothes aside and getting up when the door opened and Constance walked in."Oh, you're awake," she said, setting down the bowl she'd been carrying.It was steaming slightly."I'm glad of it – I thought to wake you, but you seemed so tired.Are you hungry?I've made supper."

"I-" Shewashungry, now that Constance mentioned it, but there were more pressing matters at hand."How long did I sleep?And where is Walter?Has he eaten?He'll grow fretful if he misses a meal, and we only had a bit of bread and cheese before we set out –"

"He's happy and well-fed, I assure you."Constance came around to sit in the chair Isabel had just noticed beside the bed.There was a small table there, too, and a second bowl sat on it along with a bit of linen."He's upstairs with Peter.I just got back from taking them food and clean clothes.He's been playing up there most of the day – you arrived in mid-morning, and the bells for evening mass just rang."

"WithPeter?"She tried to picture Peter indulging a child – any child – in a game, and failed."Is that – wise?Is he able to – if he's not well, or if his mood is poor –"

"He's not such a bear as that, not where children are concerned," Constance said lightly."And I've been up and down checking on them most of the afternoon, when I wasn't sitting with you.Walter's been amusing himself with that toy horse most of the day.I'm tempted to send it back with you two – he certainly gets more enjoyment of it than any of Matilda's young ones."

"He likes anything that moves," Isabel said.Her thoughts were still sluggish, but her primary emotion was overwhelming relief that Walter was safe – and, almost more importantly, that Hilda and the others weren't expected home for another week, and therefore would never know that she'd spent the whole day out.If they had, questions would be asked that Isabel would not be able to satisfactorily answer.

"Most children his age do."Constance picked the bowl up again, proffering it."Will you eat?I don't doubt you're as hungry as he was."

Isabel took the bowl from her hands, nearly wincing when their fingers brushed.She was acutely aware that she wore only a shift, and that the last time she had been thus undressed in this room, she had let matters progress far further than she should have.She sipped the brew – it was good, and hot, and the warmth soaked pleasantly into her aching chest.She had to put it down abruptly, though, when another coughing fit took her; Constance rescued the bowl just in time.

When she was done, she said, "I had best get dressed, and fetch Walter."She paused.She did not want to raise the matter of what had happened before – indeed, she would prefer it greatly if neither she nor Constance was ever obliged to bring it up again – but it was what she had come for, and to defer it would only leave it hanging over her head like a cloud.She took a deep breath."When I came this morning, I had intended – that is, I meant to say –" Her nerve failed her, and she dropped her gaze to where her hands sat in her lap.

"You said a few things, earlier."Constance looked thoughtful, her brows drawn together."Do you recall what they were?"

Isabel frowned.Now that she was asked directly, she wasn't at all sure she did remember what she had said that morning.She recalled waking in her bedroom, getting herself and Walter ready, and some of the walk to the shop – but it was all blurred and warped, and the details remained stubbornly outside her grasp.It was like trying to catch hold of something in water: every time she almost had it, it slipped away."I fear I do not," she said."But what I meant to say was – what passed between us when last we met, it – it was my fault.I ought not have – encouraged, or –" No, that wasn't right.She tried again."I asked for what I had no right to and could not accept regardless, and for that I apologize."

"Mmm."Constance's face was unreadable.Isabel felt a prickling of unease in her breast.Was she angry?She would have every right to be – and it was Isabel's own fault - but even so, it would be hard to bear.When she spoke, however, her voice was quiet – almost pacifying."Do you recall what else you said?Just before you fell asleep?"

Isabel shook her head.She had a vague impression of being very, very cold, and Constance's warm hands rubbing her back and pulling the blankets up over her.And somewhere in the middle, there had been a spike of – fear?Something unpleasant, at any rate – but she could not hope to recall what had provoked it.

"You were sick already, when you came," Constance said.Her voice was still gentle, as if she was preparing to give news she knew Isabel wouldn't like."So I brought you here, and got you out of your dress so you could sleep.You were all right until I tried to get you to lay down, and then ..."She bit her bottom lip."You were badly frightened.I hadn't realized.You said you didn't want to, though you didn't specify what, exactly."A delicate pause."You called me 'Geoffrey.'"

If Isabel had had the strength to leap out of bed and flee the room in that moment, she might have.Barring that, she wished God would somehow allow her to travel back in time to that morning, so she could decide against going to see Constance and thus avoid everything that had led to this conversation.Shame trickled down her spine like ice water; she knew her face was most likely scarlet, though she had no inclination to find out for herself.She didn't dare look Constance in the face ; she knew it would only confirm the pity Isabel could already hear in her voice.

"Oh," was all she managed.Even to her own ears, her voice was hoarse.