The Bishop house is probably as large, but the garden doesn’t look nearly as well kept as this one below with its large, turquoise swimming pool, the beautiful furniture along the wide, curved patio overlooking it and the neat garden with what seems to be miles and miles of roses along the walls. It’s beautiful. Like a fairy tale.
A knock comes on the door, and I’m startled. I turn but I know it’s not him. He wouldn’t knock so I tell my heart to slow down.
“Yes?”
“Isabelle, it’s us. Leontine and Angelique. May we come in?”
I walk to the door, picking my way around the shattered lamp to open it. I see Leontine standing there with her hand on Angelique’s head. Angelique is holding her bear and a very large book with a beautiful binding that looks like it may weigh more than she does.
“What happened?” Leontine asks as she looks down.
“Oh, I um dropped a lamp.”
Her eyebrows, which are almost non-existent, rise high on her forehead. She smiles. “Well, I’ll send someone up to clean it. Why don’t we go downstairs and Angelique can show you her book.”
“My room, Nana,” Angelique says to her grandmother.
“Of course, dear,” Leontine says with a warm smile.
“I can clean it up if I can borrow a vacuum cleaner. I’m the one who broke it.”
“Well, I get the feeling you had good reason,” she says, her gray eyes brighter than I expect. They almost match Jericho’s gray one. I wonder if the midnight is from his father. But then I remind myself I don’t care.
“I’ll ask someone to help us. Angelique has been wanting to show you—”
“The princess with almost your name,” says the little girl, drawing my attention. She’s very pretty with her little heart-shaped face. Very sweet. “Her name is Belle. I’ll show you.”
I crouch down as she tries to open the book to a certain page. It’s too bulky for her. “Let’s go look at it in your room,” I tell her before she drops it in the broken glass.
Leontine guides Angelique into the hallway and I move around the glass before closing the door behind me. I spare one glance at the double doors next to my room, remembering they lead to his bedroom, then follow Angelique down the hall. Leontine disappears downstairs to get someone to clean up my mess. I do feel bad about it but there’s nothing to be done.
“This is my room,” Angelique says, reaching up to open the door. She’s small for being five. “It’s new.”
“New?” I ask as we step into the yellow bedroom.
“We just moved here,” she says, and I make a mental note the next time I see Julia to ask her about it. I’m sure she is researching the St. James family since what happened last night. I wonder what Carlton told her. My cousin has a strange obsession with IVI. She knows all the founding families, the Sovereign Sons. I don’t think she’d mind Carlton matching her up with one.
Angelique’s room is large. Larger than mine, and the centerpiece is a double bed draped with yellow gauze. Fairy lights line the edges of the ceiling, and I am sure any toy a girl could ever want is in this room, most of the boxes not yet unpacked. But for all of that, the room is neat and on the nightstand are several storybooks stacked one on top of another. On the floor against the wall are two more stacks of books that appear to be well loved.
Angelique walks to the bed, climbs up and sits down against the pillows. She sets her bear beside her and opens the book on her lap. She pushes a dark curl behind her ear, and I see how her tiny feet turn in and swing a little as she focuses on a page of a very elaborate pop-up book.
I sit down beside her, and she points to the castle with its layers of detail. A peek inside one of the windows shows the princess Belle in her signature yellow ball gown.
“That’s her,” she says. “Belle. The Beast kidnaps her and then he falls in love with her,” she explains simply. “Do you know the story?”
“I do. It’s a beautiful story. And a beautiful book. Would you like me to read it to you?”
She smiles wide and nods, handing it over to me.
I turn to the first page taking a moment to appreciate the village scene that pops up before I begin to read.
Angelique sighs and lays her head on my arm. I’m so surprised I pause to look down at her and wonder if she realizes she’s doing it. I don’t think she does. Her attention is fully on the book. She’s careful as she reaches out to touch one of the town folks as I read her the story. I wonder how many times this story has been read to her when she follows along whispering the words with me.
I also wonder how she can be that terrible man’s daughter. How this gentle, sweet girl can be his offspring.
The door opens quietly, and Leontine enters, smiling when she sees us. After adjusting the curtains on one of the windows she comes to sit beside Angelique. When I finish reading and close the book, Angelique sighs heavily and takes it from me.
“It’s my favorite story,” she says to me.
“Is it?”
She watches me the way children do. No sense of awkwardness.
“You’re pretty and even though your name is like Belle, you look more like Snow White.” She runs her hand over my long hair which I’d left as Jericho had wanted. But only because it hadn’t occurred to me to braid it again.
“Thank you. You’re very pretty, too, Angelique.”
“Isabelle, would you like to take Angelique for a walk in the garden?” Leontine asks. “My appointment has been moved up a few hours, so I’ll need to be away for a while longer than I planned. Would you mind?”
“Mind? Not at all. I’d love it,” I say as we stand, and Angelique slides her hand into mine. As I follow the older woman out, I recall Jericho’s words about needing his permission to go outside and I mentally flip him off.
Before we’re out in the hallway, Leontine turns to the little girl and crouches down. “Shall we leave Baby Bear in your bedroom? Let her get a little rest?”
Angelique hugs her bear and shakes her head. “She doesn’t like to be alone.”
“All right then,” she says and straightens. I catch her eye, see a hint of worry.
We make our way downstairs, Angelique taking each step slowly with her little legs as she holds my hand and the banister. Her bear’s paw is crushed between our palms.
I wonder if Leontine’s appointment has to do with her hair growing back and the comments she’d made earlier but don’t mention anything. We make our way toward the living room which is an expansive, bright room that overlooks the garden and pool through three sets of double French doors.
“This house is beautiful,” I can’t help but say.
“Thank you,” Leontine says. “It’s been in the family for generations. It was built by Draca St. James over four hundred years ago,” she says, turning to glance at me as she opens the French doors leading to the patio. “Our combined history goes back that far, but you probably already know that.”
I wonder if I hear something in her tone or if I imagine it. Her smile is as gentle as it’s been.
“I don’t, actually. I only just learned that I’m half-Bishop a few years ago.”
She mutters a hm but doesn’t comment and now I’m more anxious than ever to talk to Julia.