Page 12 of Beyond the Desert Sands

Here, her mother and the household staff made wonderful sauces out of various chili peppers. Isabella remembered the house always smelling of spices, just as it did now. There was something comforting about it.

Her bedroom in the east wing of the house was large andluxurious. Her mother had always given her almost anything she wanted, and Isabella was pleased to find things had remained as she’d left them.

The large four-poster bed was a welcome sight after the narrow and hard berth on the train. Even though the furnishings were better in the private car than what she might have found elsewhere on the train, Isabella was looking forward to sleeping in a real bed.

“This room is very beautiful,” Lupe said, her voice betraying her awe.

“There is a room for you, just over there through that door. You’ll find there is also a large dressing room and closet for my things.”

Lupe nodded and went in search. Isabella heard her give a squeal of delight. “It is very beautiful,” the maid called back to her.

Normally Isabella would have reprimanded her reaction, but the place did impress. She smiled to herself and unpinned her hat. Now if she could only find a way to be happy for the next month.

After a hot bath and a nap, Isabella dressed for dinner. During her rest, Lupe and Maria, one of her mother’s housemaids, had seen to refreshing her gowns. They had done an admirable job of steaming out the wrinkles and making everything look beautiful.

As Isabella checked out her choice of gowns in the large closet, she was surprised to find several new choices. Her mother had apparently arranged for them. Isabella studied each of the styles, amazed to find that she liked them very much. Her mother had somehow known what would appealand had spared no expense. Isabella even recognized one of the gowns as a Worth creation.

It was this one Isabella chose for the evening. It was a blue-and-white watered silk. The main section of the gown was robin’s-egg blue, while the sleeves and insets on the bodice were white trimmed in several inches of wispy lace so fine that it reminded Isabella of spiderwebs. The overskirt fell to just below the knee in a straight line, as was the fashion, while the underskirt was slightly flared and embroidered with pink rosettes.

“Lupe, I will wear this for supper. Isn’t it stunning?”

The maid nodded. “I admired it earlier. The gold-colored gown is also divine. You will be a great beauty in it.”

Isabella smiled. “Tonight I will wear this, and we will pin flowers at the waist and in my hair. Run and ask Maria if there are any pink flowers to be had from the hothouse. Something that might match the little rosettes.”

“Sí, I will do that right now.”

Lupe took off for the door while Isabella further explored the contents of the closet. To her surprise there were shawls, hats, gloves, and even shoes newly made for her use. The gifts touched her deeply. Her mother knew how important fashion was to Isabella. Looking her best had been the most important thing in the world since Isabella was sixteen. That her mother knew this and cared enough to see to her needs touched her.

It also caused a moment of shame. Here it was nearly Christmas, and Isabella had done very little for her parents. She had brought them each a gift, of course, but they weren’t anything all that special. She had put very little effort or interest into choosing them, not really considering what her parents might like.

The thought bothered her more than she liked. It remindedher of things Aaron had said about her being self-focused and selfish. He had accused her of not caring about anyone but herself. Was he right?

“Of course not,” she declared to the closet full of beautiful things.

Aaron Bailey knows nothing about me or what I think and feel. He judges me because of one conversation held seven and a half years ago.

Her thoughts grew dark. Aaron treated her as if she were a terrible and thoughtless person, and all because she had no desire to live in Silver Veil. He couldn’t understand the pain she had suffered as a child when she was torn from her home in California. The last few years living there again with Aunt Josephina had been her happiest. Why did that make her a terrible person?

“It doesn’t,” she murmured in a softer manner than her previous declaration.

She frowned. Aaron Bailey had caused her no end of grief. She could only hope—even pray—that he was gone and no longer an issue for her to deal with. She could easily manage the company of her parents for a month, but not if Aaron Bailey was a daily part of it. Surely no one would put that upon her.

But at supper, there he was in the parlor with her father. They were looking over some maps and discussing something intently when she entered the room. Both stopped, however, when they realized she had arrived.

Mama made her way over to Isabella, her own gown of forest green complementing her graying auburn hair. “My dear, you look so lovely. I just knew when I saw that gown that it would be perfect for you.”

“Wherever did you find it?”

“A woman in town makes copies of Worth gowns and others. She’s quite good, as you can see.”

Isabella forced herself not to frown. It really shouldn’t matter that some poor Mexican woman had replicated the dress. After all, she hadn’t created the design—it was still the artistic creation of one of the impressive fashion houses. “I had Maria and Lupe arrange some flowers at the waist. Aren’t they lovely?”

“I like them very much. The ones in your hair as well.”

Isabella had fashioned her hair in a bun, then tied a white scarf across her head. Where she had knotted the scarf, Lupe had pinned additional flowers. “Thank you. And thank you for the closet full of presents.”

Her mother smiled. “I knew those things would be most important to you.” She leaned close. “If you look in the drawers, you will find some more personal articles.”

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