“How could you do this to me!?” 

Isabella winced as her father yelled again. His face had contorted from the normal, jovial expression he perpetually wore to one filled with rage. One she always knew was roiling beneath the surface and one she’d hoped not to provoke. So much for that. The sight of it caused her to avert her eyes, preferring to let them fall toward the floor instead. Her hands came to rest in her lap where she sat at her table, whereupon they grasped and played with each other to try and eke out some kind of comfort.

“You ‘already know love’ ? That’s what you tell your future husband? As if a silly girl like you knew the first damn thing about it.” He shook his head and sighed as he brought his hand up to rub his temples. “Who is filling your head with this nonsense, hmm?”

In response to the question, Isabella kept her gaze averted and didn’t speak. She’d only meant the statement as an offhand comment, not some kind of declaration of her intent to defy her father’s wishes. There was little doubt in Isabella’s mind that if she gave him the name of someone who worked here, her father would find them and fire them on the spot. It didn’t matter anyway; Isabella’s love was formed far away from this place, safe and out of his reach. It was a thing that couldn’t be caged. A thing she nurtured and cared for in the recesses of her heart. 

“Look at me when I’m speaking!” Her father slammed his fist on the table as he yelled and Isabella jumped in her seat but complied all the same. To say she’d never seen him this angry was an understatement. There had been a spark of it when she’d first hesitated at his offer but it faded once she ultimately agreed. Of course, she knew what stoked it so furiously. His fear that he won’t find her a husband from a wealthy family. That he wouldn’t be able to further enhance his wealth or secure his legacy.

“It’s no one here,” Isabella finally admitted with a shake of her head. “I swear.” The words came out softer than she wanted to and, in that moment, she felt very small. She only wished Violet were here, she wouldn’t take this kind of abuse and doubted she would let Isabella suffer it either.

“Well, if none of the staff are responsible, then it must be someone you write to. You don’t talk with anyone else; you don’t have any visitors.” He paused in thought then before shaking his head as if to dispel a theory. “It certainly isn’t Ashley Lancaster, she’s a good woman who knows how to serve her family. So, it must be that damn Auto Memories Doll.” Another pause and he nodded to himself after apparently reaching a decision. “Or, wrote to. That will obviously cease immediately.” 

“What!?” Isabella’s eyes went wide and her hands tightened into fists in her lap. “What do you mean? You can’t do that!”

“I can do whatever I damn well want!” He shouted back after bringing up his hand and leveling his finger at her. Well, if there had been any doubt at who it was, it was now thoroughly dispelled.

“No, I have to talk with Violet! You don’t understand!” Even with his anger on display, she had to press, had to persevere. He couldn’t do this to her.  

The continued outburst caused her father’s eyes to widen and a puzzled expression to take hold of his face. “Violet?” She could see him trying to piece it together in his mind. Why she was so passionate about this and why she was referring to some servant by their first name. “I haven’t seen this much emotion out of you since I sent that orphan away…”

His eyes continued to search hers until they opened just as wide. As if the realization struck him as hard as a physical blow. “That doll. That fucking doll!? That’s the love you know?” Her father let out something akin to a laugh but there was no amusement within. Instead, it was dripping with sarcasm and disbelief.

Isabella could feel her cheeks burn hot and she quickly looked down to her lap. Had she really just given away her secret? After all this time, after trying to be so careful? No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening again! Tears began to stream down her cheeks and her fists shifted to bunch her dress between her fingers.

“Falling in love with a woman and some defective soldier to boot…” her father practically spat the word and shook his before he placed both hands on the table to lean over and bring his eyes level with hers. “How would you give me a grandchild, hmm? One worthy of carrying on our name? No, I won’t have this delusion persist.” Her father stood tall then and started walking away, prompting Isabella to look up and follow his movements. When she realized he was walking towards her desk, and the typewriter that sat upon it, she quickly rose from her seat.

“No, father! Please!” Isabella continued to force the words out even though her throat was doing its best to choke them off. “I’ll marry Frederick, I’ll do whatever you want, please! Don’t take her away from me!” She was doing her best to stay composed but it was becoming increasingly hard not to completely fall apart.

Her father didn’t care though and soon both the typewriter and any loose paper and pens were swept up into his grasp. “You’re damn right you will, Isabella. And you’ll do it all without nourishing this fantasy.” Subsequently, he started moving toward the door and at that point, Isabella lost it.

“No! No-” The coughing came fast and cut through the sobs that started to build. It burned in her chest but was nothing in comparison to the pain and worry in her heart.

Seeing the illness rear its ugly head brought out a grimace from her father who simply continued, only stopping once his hands were on the handle. “This is for your own good, Isabella. You’ll be much happier when you have a family and a house to take care of. This house, if you pull your head from the clouds.” With that, he opened the door and passed through, leaving her alone to her fit.

“No…” It was all she could squeeze out before Isabella finally collapsed to the floor on hands and knees, doubling over as she coughed more, made all the worse by the tears that were rapidly approaching a full-on torrent. Eventually, she simply lowered herself down and remained that way until Heidi opened the door sometime later. 

“Mistress!” She heard the frenzied shout of the handmaiden like it was a distant echo but didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond. Physically or mentally. Eventually, Isabella let Heidi encourage her off the ground only to be led to her bed and she didn’t even bother to take off the complicated dress before laying down. The soft embrace of the blanket may as well have been broken glass for all she cared and she curled up in a ball now that she was laying again. 

Heidi said something about getting water and then hurried from the room but Isabella only closed her eyes and tried to stem the flow of tears now soaking her blanket. She felt like a child throwing a tantrum after losing a precious toy but, in reality, it was so much more than that. She was losing Violet. The woman she loved so much it physically ached. Those letters were the only thing that got her through these days and her father wanted to take that away. As if the hole in her heart could be filled by Frederick and some vague notion of a family she didn’t want. 

She wanted Taylor. She wanted Violet. And, hoping against all odds, she wanted the three of them to come together and live happily ever after. However, this wasn’t a children’s fairy tale, was it? No, this was some kind of tragedy that never ceased to worsen. Bit by bit, every day. She didn’t even get to tell Violet what was happening. She had only been able to send the one letter yesterday after Frederick’s arrival. Would she think Isabella suddenly hated her or didn’t have time for her? Would Violet curse her name? Would she be just as upset when she realized no letter would come? The mere thought of Violet being distraught again, of causing her to feel that way only added to Isabella’s panic. 

When Heidi returned, she tried to get Isabella to sit up and drink the water but the young woman would have none of it. “Leave me,” Isabella managed to croak out before succumbing to another fit. Heidi clearly hesitated and it wasn’t until she pushed the handmaiden away that she gave up. 

“Very well. If you need something, a member of the staff will be right outside.” Subsequently, Heidi turned to go, closing the door behind her, presumably waiting as she said. Or going to get someone else to do just that. 

Lunch came and went with only a knock at her door, probably to try and coax her out to eat. Another followed at dinner but Isabella simply remained on her bed, crying until she had nothing left. She did have nothing left. It had all truly been robbed from her now. The coughing continued all throughout the day and the water left by Heidi barely did anything once Isabella finally tried to get relief. Eventually, she managed to work her way out of the dress she wore only to toss it to the floor in disdain and bury herself beneath the pillows.