in the middle of her elegant bedroom suite, Isabella eyed the maid with considerable fury. After all, she had been left to unpack her luggage without assistance. Not only that, the cup of chilled lemon water and the slice of freshly baked sourdough she ordered had not arrived.
“And where are my refreshments?” she demanded to know as the rather timid-looking girl entered the bedroom.
“Refreshments?”
“My lemon water!” she snapped. “My sourdough!”
Kneeling down in front of a large circle of matching luggage, Isabella unzipped one of the bigger cases and threw it open. “Nothing is where it should be!” she roared. “I told Svanhildur to pack all of my formal clothes in this bag, but, of course, she has not. What an unprofessional dwarf she is!”
Isabella buried her head in the suitcase, thrusting her hands deep into the stack of neatly packed clothes and then stopped, glaring up at the servant girl.
“Why are you just standing there?” she hissed.
“Well, um, you see—I’m Adele,” said the girl faintly. “I saw you arriving from the window and—”
“How wonderful for you,” said Isabella curtly. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Adele , but Sommerset House has dozens of maids, and I cannot be expected to remember everyone’s name. I shall just call you girl and you shall call me Miss Isabella , is that clear?”
Adele laughed nervously. “I’m not a maid,” she said. “I’m Adele Fester-Winterbottom, your cousin .”
With remarkable speed Isabella jumped to her feet, smoothed down her dress, tightened the ribbon holding her hair in place, and lunged at her newly discovered cousin, wrapping her arms around Adele and squeezing her with all the enthusiasm of a professional wrestler.
“Oh, cousin, it is so wonderful to finally meet you!” she gushed loudly.
“Yes…” gasped Adele, who was finding it somewhat difficult to breathe. “It’s nice to meet you too, Isabella.”
Releasing her grip, Isabella stood back and took a good look at her cousin—what a sad-looking creature! She would be no competition at all.
“I already feel like we are sisters, don’t you?” said Isabella. “Not that we look alike, of course—you are so pale and then there is your hair.” She reached out and felt the frizzy tips of Adele’s flaming red hair. “Oh, you poor thing!” she said mournfully. “Are you teased awfully at school?”
Adele felt the blood rush to her freckled cheeks. She wanted to melt into the floor and disappear. “No,” she mumbled. “In fact, some of my friends really like my hair…”
“Oh, you are funny, cousin,” said Isabella, laughing. “Now tell me, have you met our uncle yet?”
Adele nodded her head.
“Isn’t he the sweetest man you have ever met in your life?”
“You think Uncle Silas is sweet? ”
“Oh, yes,” declared Isabella. “He could not have been kinder to me—he is so warm and cuddly…and Thorn is just the cutest little crocodile I ever saw!” She smiled at Adele. “Don’t you agree, cousin?”
“Well…I guess,” she said somewhat doubtfully.
“But enough about dear Uncle Silas,” said Isabella, clapping her hands. “Tell me all about yourself, and do not leave anything out. I want to know everything about you!”
Adele looked at her cousin, in her pretty dress with her perfect skin and silky hair and her polished manners—she would never be able to win over Uncle Silas against someone that perfect. It was stupid to even try.
“There’s not much to tell,” said Adele meekly. “I’m very boring, really.”
“Oh, I am sure there is a lot to tell,” said Isabella gazing wide-eyed at her cousin. “I already know about that awful business with your mother and those killer birds. She sounds completely insane!” She smiled at her cousin, failing to notice the humiliation on Adele’s face. “What about your father—what is he like?”
“He is very kind,” said Adele softly. “He restores damaged books and
“And where are my refreshments?” she demanded to know as the rather timid-looking girl entered the bedroom.
“Refreshments?”
“My lemon water!” she snapped. “My sourdough!”
Kneeling down in front of a large circle of matching luggage, Isabella unzipped one of the bigger cases and threw it open. “Nothing is where it should be!” she roared. “I told Svanhildur to pack all of my formal clothes in this bag, but, of course, she has not. What an unprofessional dwarf she is!”
Isabella buried her head in the suitcase, thrusting her hands deep into the stack of neatly packed clothes and then stopped, glaring up at the servant girl.
“Why are you just standing there?” she hissed.
“Well, um, you see—I’m Adele,” said the girl faintly. “I saw you arriving from the window and—”
“How wonderful for you,” said Isabella curtly. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Adele , but Sommerset House has dozens of maids, and I cannot be expected to remember everyone’s name. I shall just call you girl and you shall call me Miss Isabella , is that clear?”
Adele laughed nervously. “I’m not a maid,” she said. “I’m Adele Fester-Winterbottom, your cousin .”
With remarkable speed Isabella jumped to her feet, smoothed down her dress, tightened the ribbon holding her hair in place, and lunged at her newly discovered cousin, wrapping her arms around Adele and squeezing her with all the enthusiasm of a professional wrestler.
“Oh, cousin, it is so wonderful to finally meet you!” she gushed loudly.
“Yes…” gasped Adele, who was finding it somewhat difficult to breathe. “It’s nice to meet you too, Isabella.”
Releasing her grip, Isabella stood back and took a good look at her cousin—what a sad-looking creature! She would be no competition at all.
“I already feel like we are sisters, don’t you?” said Isabella. “Not that we look alike, of course—you are so pale and then there is your hair.” She reached out and felt the frizzy tips of Adele’s flaming red hair. “Oh, you poor thing!” she said mournfully. “Are you teased awfully at school?”
Adele felt the blood rush to her freckled cheeks. She wanted to melt into the floor and disappear. “No,” she mumbled. “In fact, some of my friends really like my hair…”
“Oh, you are funny, cousin,” said Isabella, laughing. “Now tell me, have you met our uncle yet?”
Adele nodded her head.
“Isn’t he the sweetest man you have ever met in your life?”
“You think Uncle Silas is sweet? ”
“Oh, yes,” declared Isabella. “He could not have been kinder to me—he is so warm and cuddly…and Thorn is just the cutest little crocodile I ever saw!” She smiled at Adele. “Don’t you agree, cousin?”
“Well…I guess,” she said somewhat doubtfully.
“But enough about dear Uncle Silas,” said Isabella, clapping her hands. “Tell me all about yourself, and do not leave anything out. I want to know everything about you!”
Adele looked at her cousin, in her pretty dress with her perfect skin and silky hair and her polished manners—she would never be able to win over Uncle Silas against someone that perfect. It was stupid to even try.
“There’s not much to tell,” said Adele meekly. “I’m very boring, really.”
“Oh, I am sure there is a lot to tell,” said Isabella gazing wide-eyed at her cousin. “I already know about that awful business with your mother and those killer birds. She sounds completely insane!” She smiled at her cousin, failing to notice the humiliation on Adele’s face. “What about your father—what is he like?”
“He is very kind,” said Adele softly. “He restores damaged books and
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