Rosalind's solitude was a gift from her departed husband. Forced into marrying him at nineteen, she endured this philandering ignoramus until his sins caught up with him and caused his last malaise. She falsely mourned him and returned to their house, far from any village, and took his estate as her own.
Poisoning Philip was tempting until she realised he could succumb to a much slower death by way of his illness. She tended to him and called on a doctor to ease his pain, if nothing to shut him up and keep him from bellowing in the night. She allowed him drink she knew was worsening his condition, lying in secret to the physician Philip was abstaining from all vices. And she'd long since stopped sleeping by his side. Realising he couldn't have a child by her, well into their marriage no less, he'd all but discarded her, too apathetic to ask for a divorce. She suffered instead as his indentured servant so her spoils would one day reach her.
Now some years had passed, she was beginning to long for certain things she'd been denied. These weren't mere fancies like food and drink, easily obtained by her wealth. Her body was yet to grow too old and her desires were given space to breathe within. There were no gentleman callers after the funeral. She may have looked attractive to a lesser lord who could profit from her wealth. She was free to deny them as she was to choose.
Her dearest friend, Millicent, wrote to her more once Philip was gone, clued into Rosalind's state of mind. Rosalind eagerly invited Millicent to visit, her friend stating she was bringing someone with her for Rosalind to meet.
This stranger went nameless and genderless while Rosalind awaited their arrival. The journey from Millicent's city home to Rosalind's villa took the better part of two days, with little on the road between. Rosalind was planning and hoping they would stay with her a few nights at least; there was room for their carriage and driver. Accustomed to taking care of the house, she'd no need for any servants of her own. Washing and cleaning occupied her idle hands and mind, though some chores were harder to manage on her own.
The morning her guests arrived, Rosalind fussed over Millicent, embracing her once she was heading up the path to the front door. In her wake was a timid, plainly dressed girl, her hair hidden by a white bonnet. She curtsied for Rosalind as Millicent introduced her.
"This is Isabelle. I've brought her here for a particular reason I didn't want to put in writing."
Rosalind brought them in, their driver responsible for their belongings.
"The place is much too big for me," Rosalind said, leading them through to her lounge where the sunlight was the strongest.
Assured they were both comfortable, she returned with tea and slices of cake, Rosalind spending the whole day prior preparing food.
"You seem in good spirits," Millicent remarked.
Isabelle seemed uncomfortable being served by Rosalind. Millicent also possessed a certain lavish style, to see Isabelle dressed so drably left Rosalind curious.
Once Millicent had given Rosalind the most recent news, she turned to the matter of Isabelle.
"I've brought her here in the hope you would be willing to take her in," Millicent said frankly. "I am planning to spend my last days on my family estate outside Dublin, and I would rather Isabelle stay behind with you."
Isabelle remained reticent when Rosalind regarded her. "May I ask why?"
"She's the daughter of my eldest maid, Olive. There was an incident involving Olive and another man my family wished to keep secret, and I've kept Isabelle with me as a servant out of respect for Olive, who died during Isabelle's birth. I couldn't masquerade her as a daughter or even a niece, though I'd have preferred to, my horrid husband insisted we make use of her. Now I have a chance to give her a new home, and while I'm aware of the imposition, I'm at a loss for another solution."
Isabelle quietly sipped her tea and averted her eyes from Rosalind.
"She's terribly shy," Millicent said. "It would have been unfair of me to marry her off as I was told to do. I have told a tremendous lie to Fredrick and my family that she's come with me so I can give her to another wealthy home."
"I'd be happy to have her," Rosalind replied. "Whether she wishes to tend to the house is up to her."
Isabelle's bright blue eyes sparkled at Rosalind in surprise. "I would have that choice?"
Millicent chuckled at this. "Rosalind is much kinder than even me, my dear. I've always adored her for her liberal attitude to others."
Rosalind remained as humble as possible. "Well, you are both my guests for today at least. How long did you intend to stay, Millicent?"
"Sadly, it will only be a night here for me. We have booked passage for a week's time and I need to return to the city tomorrow morning."
As Rosalind reached for the empty tray, Isabelle intervened and offered to give them some time to themselves.
"I will find the kitchen," she said quickly.
Millicent interjected as Rosalind went to disagree with Isabelle. "Let her do as she wishes."
Rosalind was as obedient as Isabelle, the two of them sharing another lingering moment, Isabelle's smile faint and quick to vanish before she left the room.
"She should get used to the place, don't you think?" Millicent offered.
"I suppose she must. I'd rather show her around."
"You've nothing to hide from me or her, surely."
All Rosalind's secrets were in her heart and mind. She never hid anything from Philip but her own bitter resentment towards him. His grave was further out on the estate, the plot otherwise empty as the family he'd demanded of Rosalind failed to come to fruition. Philip's family were mostly dead or already in distant lands, some of them completely unaware of her at all.
"You must be plagued by many useless thoughts being on your own out here," Millicent opined, putting her cup aside.
Rosalind took in her friend's countenance and composure, seeing more wispy greys in Millicent's otherwise dark hair. She was several years older than Rosalind, a woman of leisure and good stead within the city. Philip brought Rosalind from a meagre lifestyle straight into opulence, demanding she dress more stately and manage her appearance to his satisfaction. She met Millicent during her first ball, them fast becoming friends for their disdain of those more arrogant around them.
"You know me well enough. Philip may have driven me mad with his complaining but he did give me some purpose."
"I thought you might return to your painting, since he insisted on denying you your pleasures."
"I haven't found the inspiration."
"Isabelle is well educated, I saw to that as best I could. She'll make use of your books and thrive here in the country. She's so slight and pale from being stuck inside, and she rarely went into the city on errands."
