"Oh, Isabella, really! Your father may not be like the characters in your novels, but he is continually thinking of your welfare, and he loves you above everything." Clara said to Isabella.
"He does?" said Isabella, and her smile was unchildlike and rather disturbing.
Clara felt a shiver run down her spine. To change the subject she said idly, observing the second bed in the room, "I've been meaning to ask, who is the second bed for?" She said pointing at it.
"Oh," Isabella started indifferently. "Beatrice sleeps with me. I have bad dreams sometimes. I thought Bennet would ask you to move into the mansion, thank God he didn't. I don't think I'm ready to share my space with someone else."
"I see. I guess it's good that I get to leave by evening then." Clara said, giggling like a baby. She found Isabella quite entertaining, so she was willing to engage her even further. "I think this side of the house is a bit far away from everyone else, isn't it? Don't you want to move closer? There is a room in the south corridor that must have been a nursery once. It's a big sunny room with painted cupboards and pictures of animals. Was it ever yours?"
"Yes," Isabella said tonelessly, "but I'm not allowed to go into it now."
"Why not? It would make a much nicer bedroom than your present one, and you would be next door to your father's room."
"That was the reason they changed it. Bennet couldn't bear having me close."
"Isabella, dear, I'm sure that was not the reason," Clara said, suddenly having the odd feeling that someone must have been feeding the little girl with funny and crazy tales.
"But the child cried wildly, "It was, it was, it was! Ask Beatrice, she'll tell you it's true!"
"Ask me what?" said Beatrice's cool voice from the doorway. "What are you getting so excited about, Isabella? Miss Clara, I believe the little girl is yet to have her siesta. Isn't that suppose to be part of her daily activities? Do you want her to have one of her crazy nightmares? Really, Miss Clara, this is most unwise. I would prefer it if in future you would allow her time for her siesta.What do you want Miss. Clara to ask me, dear?" She turned to Isabella, like she had said nothing moments ago.
The brilliance had died out in the child's eyes and she looked sullen. "Nothing," she said, darting a quick look at Clara.
"That's not what I heard as I came in," Beatrice said playfully. "Perhaps Miss.. Clara can tell me."
"It was nothing of any importance," said Clara lightly, and saw Beatrice compress her lips.
"In that case," she said, "perhaps the little girl can observe her siesta while you take your rest as well."
Clara was beginning to dislike the housekeeper. It was obvious that her job as the housekeeper doubles as Isabella's Nanny and maybe she feels threatened that Clara was about that occupy the little space she own in the childs life. But for someone like Clara, the truth was evident, Beatrice was not an ideal companion for a difficult, imaginative child, like Isabella.
Beatrice was well over thirty-five or thereabouts and she exudes the features of a disciplinarian, which was an excellent feature, but Clara found her depressing. Nodding in agreement, she left the room, not a bit ready to be in anyone's bad books.
At the corridor, she saw Beatrice head towards the kitchen, she was clueless on what to do with herself. She would have loved to visit the kitchen as well, but Beatrice made sure to let Clara know that she was welcome in the kitchen. So, she decided to wander in the garden.
As she was headed to the door leading to the main entrance, she overheard some voices coming from the living room, she recognized the male voice immediately as that of her employer, but the female voice was new to her.
"I saw her the other day, is that the girl you choose as Isabella's Nanny or Nurse, whatever name you chose to give her. Someone that dresses like she's going to some meeting with the country's chief of staff. Who dresses in such expensive outfits, just to be a nurse to a child with special need and attention like Isabella. What time will she have to pay attention to the girl, if she's busy playing dress up. Which of the nurses in other homes dresses like she does, Ben?" Bethany had asked Bennet.
She had seen Clara the previous day, when she came to the mansion. But she met Bennet's absence and decided to return the next day.
"I take it that you've met Miss. Clara, Beth." Bennet said, in his usual cheerful manner. "She's good at her job. So far, Isabella hasn't killed her, given her migraines nor have she scared her away from the mansion." He added.
"Ben, that's not the point. Are you sure you know this woman. She dresses so nice and speaks too well to be working as a mere Nanny. What if she was sent by one of your rival companies, she could be working undercover." Beth suggested, although she sounded foolish, even to herself, she refused to back down.
"I know everything I need to know about my employees. What brings you here?" He changed the topic. To him, there was no need indulging Bethany about Clara, his employees were not up for chats, yet Bethany refused to back down.
"So, you approve of her dressing the way she does?"
"There is nothing wrong with the way she's dressed. As long as it is decent, then it's non of my business. Can we talk of something else?" Bennet asked, getting bored.
Bethany watched him closely. After getting the report from Beatrice that Bennet employed a young nurse, she had wanted to come see for herself and when she did, she couldn't help the pang of jealousy that followed. Clara was a dazzle, whom she didn't want close to her man. With Felicia out of the way, Bennet was supposed to be hers.
"You don't want to talk about her." She started, like she made a huge discovery. "You don't want to discuss her. Why not? Is it what I'm thinking?" She asked.
At this point, Clara's attention was drawn into the conversation fully, her curiosity grew. What was the owner of the voice thinking. A sharp clearing of throat from Beatrice shook her from her position. "Wouldn't you agree with me that it's quite irresponsible to eavesdrop on people's conversation, Miss. Clara?" She asked in her annoying self composed style.
Her voice gave them away as Bennet overheard them and called them out.
"Ben, I'm talking to you." Bethany called his attention. Seeing that Clara was now standing with them, Bethany looked at her with contempt oozing from her eyes. "Is she your girlfriend? You employed your girlfriend as your daughter's Nanny? I'm asking because that is the only way I'll be convinced she can buy an original BEX wristwatch, like the one she has on."
The shock on everybody's face aside Bennet's was evident, including the hard to impress Beatrice. "Well, someone finally got the picture." Bennet said out of nowhere. "Miss Clara here is indeed my girlfriend, and we are getting married." He announced. Clara almost fainted from. surprise. "Come here, darling." He gestured to Clara, who walked over to him on shaky legs. "Go with the flow please." He whispered into her ears when she came close.
Bethany stood rigid on the floor, the shock and anger she was feeling, extremely loud. In a flash, she bolted out of the living room, Beatrice excused herself as well, and Clara looked at Bennet, with horror filled eyes.
"Clara, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you on a spot. But, what do we say we get married? Something just on paper. You get to stay in my daughter's life a lot longer and I get to be free from the young ladies of Eschial gardens and their imposing mothers." He said without flinching.
"What!" Clara blurted out.