Masked Love (A Christmas Regency Novella) by Nicole Zoltack Page B

and other greenery, holly, lit candles, and bows, the church was beautifully decorated. She paused beside a wreath and admired its intricacies, how the various evergreens wrapped upon each other to form a perfect circle.
    Olga nudged her shoulder once they walked outside. “Now do you care to tell me what’s going on?”
    Isabelle glanced at the plump cook. “I would rather not say.”
    “You’ll force me to listen to gossip then.”
    “And just what is being said?” Isabelle was straining her neck, forcing herself not to turn around and watch Lord Adrian help his beautiful future wife into the carriage.
    “That you and the lady had a falling out. But no one can figure out why.”
    Her breathing came easier. Her secret was safe. If tongues stopped wagging or told so little, she might not be long unemployed. She desired greatly to never return to the streets.
    The sight of a tall red-haired man standing with his back to her made excitement well deep within her. She glanced at the Haywood carriage, but the horses were already clop, clop, clopping along their merry way, too far for him to be visible.
    Isabelle stood still as people crowded around her. The man turned slightly, and she glimpsed at his eyes. Brown.
    Olga followed her gaze. “He is a fine-looking specimen, isn’t he? That’s why he’s trouble.”
    “Scandal?” Isabelle’s hopes dashed as quickly as they had started to bubble up again.
    Olga gripped her arm and forced her to walk along. Once they were a good deal separated from the crowd, the cook whispered, “Baron Malcolm Thrush. Surely you’ve heard of him.”
    Isabelle waited with little patience. She never bothered to listen to stories, but Olga knew everything about everyone, sometimes even before they did, or so it seemed.
    “Gambler, womanizer. Supposedly he got a girl pregnant. And a few years back, he cut off an engagement. He claimed they never had an agreement, but the lady was devastated. Caught a lucky break there, she did.” Olga nodded solemnly. “If you are eyeing him, I suggest you look at someone else.”
    “I’m not interested, don’t worry.”
    The gray-eyed woman old enough to be her mother shook her head. “Not interested in him you mean. I can see right through you. As long as he’s in your class, there’s nothing wrong with it. But that’s not the case, is it.”
    Isabelle kept silent the rest of the long walk to the Haywood Manor. Olga was smart; she probably pieced everything together already. Isabelle had to prepare and hope that, tomorrow during the party, she could find another lady in need of a maid. Haywood Manor had become a sinking ship for her, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d drown.

 
     
     
     

     
    Once the lords and ladies were done eating, the servants were finally able to enjoy a simpler Christmas meal on the leftovers. At first, Isabelle had no desire to eat, but one taste of the roast beef changed her mind. The march pane was especially delicious this year.
    Olga eyed her the entire time but thankfully said nothing. When she finally lowered her fork and opened her mouth, Isabelle jumped up. “I’ll return presently.”
    She dashed from the room, not planning on coming back until she needed to help clean up. After creeping up the stairs to the servant’s quarters, she jumped back when she saw Lady Theodosia sitting on her bed.
    “Is there something you need?” she asked once she overcame her shock.
    Lady Theodosia handed her a rolled-up letter, sealed with her family’s crest of a small dove perched on top of a full tree. “I’ve written you a letter of recommendation.”
    Her mouth grew dry, as if the moisture in her body had fled to her eyes. “My lady … ”
    “Lord Adrian is a wonderful man. I can understand why you fell for him. But he is to be my husband.”
    “O-of course.” She hung her head, unable to lift her arm to accept the letter from her former lady’s outstretched hand.
    “Do not feel badly. Everything that has