Isabelle and Alexander, Rebecca Anderson [nonfiction book recommendations .TXT] 📗

the success of his mill as the merchandise they produced. But she had a different kind of convincing to do this morning.

“Since we will not be venturing to the mill, will you agree to sit for Miss Glory if she will come to paint us today?”

Alexander did not attempt to hide his grimace.

Previously Isabelle would have taken a step back, changed the subject. But she was eager to have Glory finish their painting, so she did not rescind her request. She could be patient. She waited.

“If you wish it,” he finally said.

“Thank you,” she responded. “I do wish it, very much.”

Isabelle sent word to the Kenworthy family, and within an hour, Glory had arrived and set up paints and paper.

“Mrs. Osgood, today you do not need to sing to us,” Glory said. “You can play instead.”

Mrs. Kenworthy gently reminded Glory that she was a guest in the Osgoods’ home, and Glory nodded.

“I know, Mama, but I am also working, and I need nice music to do the best possible work.”

Isabelle smiled. “And if I can help you to produce the best possible work, I am very happy to do my part.” After she made certain that her guests were supplied with tea and biscuits, Isabelle took her place at the piano and played and sang for more than an hour. The only other sounds in the room were low murmurs between Glory and her mother. Isabelle wondered if Alexander had grown so bored he had fallen asleep, but when she looked at him, she found his gaze turned toward her.

She whispered to him, “Thank you, sir, for this morning. I feel very glad.”

Alexander smiled at her. “And I thank you for the music,” he said.

She smiled her thanks and turned back to the pianoforte, eager to supply him some small pleasure.

After the Kenworthy ladies left, Isabelle rolled Alexander in his chair back to the parlor to await Doctor Fredericks’s visit. Before the appointed hour, however, Mrs. Burns appeared to announce a visitor.

Isabelle stood. “I will go receive whomever it is in the drawing room,” she said.

Mrs. Burns shook her head. “He desires to see you both.” Her words, accompanied by a smile, seemed to pique Alexander’s curiosity. “He wanted his visit to be unexpected and unannounced, but may I admit Doctor Kelley?”

Isabelle leaped to her feet and ran to the door. Doctor Kelley, hat in hand and a bag at his feet, stood awaiting admittance to the room.

She embraced him. “You never need wait,” she said. “You are so very, very welcome here.” Taking him by the arm, she escorted him into the parlor.

Alexander saw his old friend enter, and a look of delight overtook his features. “We did not know to expect you,” Alexander said, “but I am so pleased you’ve come. Are you well?”

Isabelle felt her heart quicken at seeing such pure joy on Alexander’s face.

“Aye, quite well, sir. And you?” the doctor asked, stepping close to the chair.

In answer, Alexander moved his head from side to side, shrugged his shoulders up to his ears, and then raised his hands.

“Ah, and see who is showing off,” Doctor Kelley said, fondness apparent in every syllable. His sigh held audible relief. “Look how well you are,” he said.

If Isabelle heard a catch in the doctor’s voice or caught a glimpse of dampness in his eye, she said nothing but simply gave it a place in her memory.

She directed the doctor to a chair next to Alexander before she excused herself to let the two of them reconnect. She had scribed a letter to Doctor Kelley in Alexander’s words and included it with her own of the past week, inviting him to visit. But she knew there were questions the doctor would like answered that Alexander would be reluctant to discuss with her in the room.

She went to the kitchen and spoke to Mrs. Burns and Mae about an addition to the household. After ordering tea and asking Yeardley to place the doctor’s things in Alexander’s dressing room, she came back to hear Alexander’s voice, low and earnest.

“I cannot expect this to continue.”

“My dear boy,” the doctor replied, “I believe she is more than willing.”

Were they speaking of her, she wondered? Or of Nurse Margaret’s ministrations?

Alexander said, “It is, indeed, far too much to ask. No woman should have to bear such inconvenience.”

The doctor caught Isabelle’s eye as she reentered the room and gave her a sad smile.

“And here is the lady of the house,” Doctor Kelley said, rising. His gentle redirection allowed Isabelle to understand that Alexander would not want her to hear the conversation. Surely the doctor recognized what she had overheard, but the exchange did not include her. Alexander had never before used such phrases in her presence. Indeed, the word inconvenience saddened her. Had she behaved as though her husband’s condition distressed her? Or worse, that she was irritated by it? Had she given him to understand that she did not want to aid in his rehabilitation and recovery?

She pushed away her feelings of melancholy and forced a cheerful aspect. “How auspicious that you have arrived today, when Doctor Fredericks is expected for his weekly visitation only this afternoon.” She managed to keep a pleased countenance as she said, “We are so grateful that you found him and convinced him to take Mr. Osgood into his care.”

Doctor Kelley deflected the praise. “He is, indeed, such a busy and important man. His work in the Manchester Royal Infirmary is spoken of in every medical circle. His pioneering work in assisting the type of injuries our Alec has sustained is truly remarkable.”

Isabelle had her doubts, but she held her tongue. Doctor Kelley gave Doctor Fredericks all the credit, but it was he who had attended Alexander in the critical early days.

“We know that your own kindness, sir, as well as your knowledge and understanding, have contributed considerably to his healing.” Isabelle wished she could form the proper words to truly make Doctor Kelley understand the gratitude