Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Isabella stood in the small, cluttered fitting room of Madame Cherie's seamstress shop, her heart pounding as she hurriedly changed clothes with the help of the seamstress with the lace and buttons that she simply could not tackle by herself. Marie was growing impatient, tapping her foot and glancing nervously at the door.

"Do hurry, Isabella," Marie hissed, her eyes darting around the room. "We do not have all day."

"Yes, my lady," Isabella murmured. It was always a complicated affair, these swaps, but Isabella had grown adept at it. After all, her position depended on it, however much she despised it.

The fabric of Marie's gown was soft against her skin, and the dress was far more extravagant than anything Isabella would ever wear. She felt a pang of envy but quickly pushed it aside. This was not her life. It was Marie's, and Isabella was just a player in this strange charade.

Marie took Isabella's maid dress and donned it quickly, her face lighting up with excitement.

"Finally, a moment of freedom," she said, smoothing the simple fabric over her body. "Remember, Isabella. Sit by the window. Make sure you are seen from the back if anyone from the ton should pass by. I do not wish to give my mother any reason to be suspicious."

"I understand," Isabella replied, fastening the last button and adjusting the dress so it sat properly on her petite frame. "I will be here."

Marie's eyes sharpened. "You need to have your hair tied up so my necklace can be seen. Everyone knows I would not be seen out without it."

Isabella sighed, but complied. She wanted Marie to think that she was going to listen to her and do as she was told, even if she had other plans in the back of her mind.

Marie gave a quick nod, her eyes already gleaming with anticipation. "Good. That looks better. Now, remember your role, all right?"

Isabella nodded, her anxiety mounting.

She hated these charades, but she needed this job, and Marie was not one to be crossed.

Isabella took a deep breath, gathering her courage as she watched Marie disappear out the door, her steps brisk and eager as she headed into the crowded streets. Once she was certain Marie was gone, Isabella turned to Madame Cherie, who had been quietly arranging some ribbons on a nearby shelf, her expression unreadable.

"Madame," Isabella began, her voice low but firm, "I have an urgent errand to run. I promise I'll be back very soon, but I must leave now."

The seamstress paused, her eyes narrowing slightly as she regarded Isabella. There was a moment of silence, thick with unspoken understanding. Madame Cherie had seen these swaps before, and understood the delicate game that was being played between the ladies of the ton and their maids. She had no love for Lady Marie, who had often been demanding and dismissive during fittings, treating the seamstress with a haughty disdain.

"Go, child," Madame Cherie finally said, her tone surprisingly gentle. "You have always been a good girl, Isabella. I will not say a word."

Relief flooded Isabella's face as she gave the seamstress a grateful nod. "Thank you, Madame Cherie. I'll return before anyone notices I'm gone."

With that, she hurried out of the fitting room, the luxurious gown swishing around her legs, feeling heavier than ever as she navigated the narrow corridors of the shop.

The moment she stepped out into the street, the familiar buzz of London's bustling life enveloped her. Carriages clattered by, and vendors shouted their wares to passersby, but Isabella had no time to absorb the scene. Her heart beat in tandem with her swift steps as she made her way through the maze of alleyways.

Isabella knew she had little time, and even less freedom. Marie's orders were clear, and any deviation could lead to serious consequences. But there was something she needed to do, something that had been gnawing at her for days now.

The streets of London were bustling with activity, and Isabella kept to the shadows, navigating the side streets she knew so well. She had to avoid anyone who assumed she was a lady because of the dress. The anxiety of being seen, combined with the urgency to get to the orphanage, made her heart race even faster.

As she walked, Isabella's thoughts turned to the children at the orphanage. She missed them dearly and looked forward to every moment she could spend with them. They were like family to her, a source of joy and purpose in her otherwise difficult life.

The smaller streets twisted and turned, but Isabella knew them by heart. She kept her head low, avoiding eye contact with anyone who passed by. The weight of the fine dress seemed to slow her down, reminding her constantly of the pretense she was part of.

Finally, the familiar sight of the orphanage came into view. Relief washed over her, and she quickened her pace. The old building stood tall, its brick walls weathered but sturdy, a testament to the countless lives it had sheltered over the years.

As she approached the entrance, she took a moment to catch her breath and compose herself. The children did not need to see her anxiety; they needed her to be strong and cheerful.

Isabella slipped inside, greeted by the warm, welcoming atmosphere she loved so much. The children's laughter echoed through the halls, and the familiar scent of baked bread wafted from the kitchen. It felt like home.

"Isabella!" the children cried out in unison as soon as they spotted her. They rushed over, their eyes wide with wonder as they took in her appearance.

"Look at your dress!" one of the girls exclaimed, her small fingers brushing against the luxurious fabric. "It is so beautiful!"

"And your jewels!" another boy added, pointing to the delicate necklace that adorned her neck. "Are they real?"

Isabella smiled, her heart swelling with affection for these little ones. "Yes, they are real," she said gently, kneeling down to their level. "But they do not belong to me, they belong to my mistress."

"Your mistress must be a princess!" exclaimed Tommy, his eyes wide with wonder.

Isabella chuckled softly, ruffling his hair.

"Not quite, but she does have very fine things."

She glanced around, feeling a momentary pang of guilt for being there under false pretenses, but the children's joy made it worthwhile.

The children nodded, though their fascination with her outfit was far from waning. Isabella allowed them to marvel a bit longer, enjoying their innocent excitement, while also doing what she could to be careful.

The last thing that she wanted was to give Marie any reason to admonish her again.

She then rose and made her way to the kitchen, where Mrs. Monroe was preparing tea.

Mrs. Eileen Monroe, the headmistress, was a comforting presence in the orphanage, her warmth and strength felt in every corner of the old building. She looked up from her work as Isabella entered, her eyes softening with recognition.

"Isabella, my dear," she greeted with a gentle smile, her voice carrying the warmth of a mother's love. She was the only mother that Isabella had ever known. She wiped her hands on her apron and approached, taking in the sight of Isabella in the luxurious gown. "You look...splendid. It is quite a transformation."

Isabella smiled, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over her. "Thank you, Mrs. Monroe. I thought it might cheer up the children to see something so grand."

Mrs. Monroe nodded, her eyes twinkling with understanding. "You always think of them first. You have a good heart, Isabella. Now, come, sit. Have some tea."

"I have missed you so much," Isabella suddenly declared, her voice choked with emotion. "It is so good to see you, and the children as well."

Eileen gently brushed a tear from Isabella's cheek. "And we have missed you, my darling. We always do."

"How has everything been here?"

Eileen sighed softly, a mixture of weariness and resilience in her eyes. "Things have been busy, as always, but we manage. We had a special visitor recently. The Earl of Duncaster came to see the orphanage."

Isabella's eyes widened in surprise. "The new Earl of Duncaster? He was here?"

Eileen nodded. "Yes, he was. He seemed very kind and genuinely interested in the children. It was heartwarming to see."

"I have heard about the donations from the family, but I have never met the new earl. I was already a maid outside the orphanage when the old earl passed away," Isabella said, a hint of curiosity in her voice. "What is he like?"

Eileen smiled gently. "He is young, perhaps a bit overwhelmed by his responsibilities, but he has a good heart. He spent quite some time with the children, playing games and asking about their needs. It is clear he wants to continue his family's legacy of support."

Isabella felt a warmth spread through her chest. "That is wonderful to hear. The children need all the support they can get."

Eileen squeezed her daughter's hand. "That's very true. He is a kind man. We could most certainly use more of those in the world!"

Isabella nodded, feeling a sense of pride and purpose. "I wish I could do more."

"You already do so much, my dear," Eileen reassured her. "Your visits, your help with the children, and the little money you can spare—it all makes a difference."

"I will always do whatever I can," Isabella continued firmly.

"Oh and the earl is so very handsome as well. It would be lovely if you could find a man just like him…"

"I'm not too sure about that," Isabella said with a chuckle. "You always say that. But finding a husband isn't that simple. Especially not one as kind hearted and handsome as the earl."

Eileen gave her a wistful smile. "You never know, my dear. Sometimes, love finds us when we least expect it."

Isabella laughed again, shaking her head. "Perhaps, but until then, I am content with being here and helping the children. They bring me so much joy."

Eileen nodded, her eyes filled with love and pride. "And you bring them so much happiness, Isabella. Never forget that."

The sound of children's laughter grew louder, drawing both women's attention.

Mrs. Monroe chuckled softly. "They must be in the middle of a game. You should join them, Isabella. They have truly missed you dearly."

Isabella smiled, feeling a sense of contentment wash over her. "I will. Thank you, Mrs. Monroe."

Eileen hugged her. "Go on, darling. The children need you."

Isabella nodded and made her way to the playroom, where the children were eagerly awaiting her. As she stepped into the room, their faces lit up with joy, and she felt a profound sense of belonging. Here, among these children and with her family, she had found her true home.

Isabella stepped into the playroom, greeted by the children's excited chatter and beaming faces. The room, filled with the warmth and energy of youthful enthusiasm, seemed to come alive whenever she was there. The children gathered around her, their eyes wide with anticipation.

"Isabella, will you play with us?" little Tommy asked, tugging at the hem of her luxurious dress.

"Of course, Tommy," Isabella replied, smiling down at him. "What are we playing today?"

"Hide and seek!" several children exclaimed in unison, their voices blending into a cheerful cacophony.

"All right," Isabella said, clapping her hands together. "Who will be the seeker?"

"I will!" shouted Emily, a bright-eyed girl with a mischievous grin. "I like counting."

The children dispersed, finding hiding spots with the practiced skill of frequent players.

Isabella carefully made her way around the room, her elaborate gown swishing softly with each step.

She felt a pang of guilt again, wearing something so opulent while these children had so little.

But Eileen's words resonated with her—every bit helps, and her presence here was valuable in its own way.

She would just have to ensure that when she returned to the modiste to return this dress before Lady Marie arrived.

Emily began the countdown, her voice echoing through the room. "Ten, nine, eight..."

Isabella hurried to find a hiding place, finally settling behind a large curtain near the window. She held her breath, listening to the giggles and whispers of the hidden children.

"Ready or not, here I come!" Emily called out, and the game was on.

Isabella's heart raced as Emily searched the room, peeking behind furniture and curtains, her laughter infectious.

The children squealed with delight whenever they were found, adding to the joyous atmosphere.

After a while, Isabella was discovered, her hiding place betrayed by the swish of her dress. She joined in the laughter, her worries and anxieties melting away in the company of the children.

As Isabella laughed with the children, she felt a profound sense of joy and nostalgia. The carefree moments of her childhood at the orphanage flooded back, and she remembered the simple happiness of playing games without the weight of adult responsibilities.

These were the moments she missed dearly, but working as a maid for Marie was the only way she could support herself and contribute to the orphanage.

"Now it is your turn to count, Isabella!" Emily exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Isabella nodded, a playful grin spreading across her face. "All right, everyone, find your hiding spots. I shall count to twenty."

She covered her eyes with her hands and began to count aloud, her voice steady and rhythmic. "One, two, three, four..."

The children scampered off, their giggles echoing through the room as they sought out the best hiding places. Isabella's heart swelled with affection for them, each one holding a special place in her heart. Although being around them always made her think of her most prized dream. A family of her own.

She could not wait until she finally had children of her own to love.