A/N- So, I promised this a while back to some very supportive Ashby Park followers and I have finally done something with the ideas I had. It's has a little more political content than Ashby but will be fluffy too. Hope you approve.
Emma and Isabelle.
"You have loved her a long time." Isabelle said, bringing her large brown eyes up slowly to meet Emma's.
Emma frowned and felt her breath catch in her throat. "I...of course, we have been friends for many years...you remember."
"I do." Isabelle admitted. "I didn't know it for what it was then." Isabelle added.
Emma couldn't speak, that in itself encouraged Isabelle to go on.
"You love her as her husband should?" Isabelle asked.
Emma stared out of the carriage, eye's numbly seeing the landscape but not processing it.
"I understand that Emma, I do." Isabelle assured. Her voice trembled.
"How could you?" Emma asked as she continued to stare out of the window.
Isabelle couldn't bear the loneliness she heard in Emma's voice and she moved from her seat to the one Emma occupied. Sitting shoulder to shoulder, Isabelle picked up Emma's gloveless hand.
"I knew a girl in Paris..." Isabelle began, Emma's eyes finally returning to the present, to Isabelle, with a questioning look. "A friend, she took me to Montmatre. There were women living there together as if married. Many of them. There were cafes where women kissed, they danced..."
Emma looked appalled and withdrew her hand from Isabelle's. It wasn't new to her that such places, such people existed, but she had never truly thought that her great love for Maura was anything like how those people behaved.
Isabelle felt some of her courage leave her but knew that she must finish what she had started, she could not turn back now.
"I was scared." Isabelle said honestly, her voice shook. "I had never seen or known such a thing existed. I ran away that first night and couldn't understand why my friend had taken me there." Isabelle re-took Emma's hand and held it firmly now. "I suppose she knew me better than I cared to know myself."
"You?" Emma asked, her face as flushed as her throat. "You...went back there?"
Isabelle nodded. "I did, much later, I took a girl there...we...went there together." Isabelle smiled uncertainly. "We had a very brief but very intense relationship, She showed me a glimpse of what I could feel for another."
XXXX
Ten days earlier.
Emma could not fathom what had possibly possessed her when she had agreed to this.
Not only would her comrades be likely to resent the presence of a clear spectator to their cause, Isabelle lacking the serious and keenly interested attitude of Emma's previous visitor, Jane. But it was also certain to be a dull and tedious experience for a young woman used to mixing in the circles Isabelle had been describing to Emma this morning. That of young poets, artists and musicians she had encountered on her recent travels.
Emma calmly took stock of exactly which of her fellow campaigners had arrived for this meeting, and which of them were most likely to enjoy Emma's discomfort. Emma's stomach completed a forward roll as she spotted Miss Cooper, rallying a few unfamiliar young women, who began quietly approaching small groups of women and circulating a pamphlet. Emma assumed it was some material for the Labour Representation Committee, whom Miss Cooper had strong ties with.
Emma watched the young women, she had not spoken to her since the day they had been formally introduced but she was a great admirer of the passion Selina displayed for her causes. Selina had a greater mission than that of woman's political equality with men, Selina longed for those freedoms but more specifically as a means to improve the conditions of working women.
Isabelle was quiet and almost demure, but as Selina approached the two women, Emma wished she had warned Isabelle to wear something a little more simple than the beautifully elaborate silks she had opted for.
"Ms Emma." Selina nodded curtly. "I read the article you wrote for the Englishwoman's review, you made some very interesting arguments. I would like to discuss it further with you at your convenience."
Emma was caught off guard by the immediate proposal. "Ahhh, yes, of course, I would be keen to hear your views." Emma offered, thinking that really she would be terrified to take on this woman in any type of political debate.
Selina looked Isabelle up and down and waited expectantly for an introduction.
"This is Lady Isabelle Tremain." Emma said quickly, wishing she had introduced her simply as Isabelle. "A family friend." Emma said awkwardly.
Selina thrust out a hand for Isabelle to shake. "I don't believe I have seen you at any of our meetings before?" Selina questioned. "But then I am more active in the North of the country. Miss Selina Cooper." She informed briskly.
"Oh, I have not been to any meetings before Miss Cooper, I am recently returned from a year in Europe and am eager to see what occupies so much of Emma's time and interest." Isabelle said honestly.
Selina looked knowingly and then a little dismissive of Isabelle, she returned her attention to Emma.
"I shall send word to propose a convenient time to meet." She said respectfully and turned back to the room.
Isabelle smiled thinly. "She seemed delightful." She said drolly.
Emma shot her a disapproving frown. "She was sent out to work in a shirt making factory at the age of 11." Emma began. "You know that only children and women work at shirt making as the wages are beneath any man. The conditions are worse than you would allow one of your precious animals to exist in. She has little education and yet she commands the respect of the unions, factory inspectors and every class of person, in her quest for a better way for her fellow women. She is an inspiration." Emma finished quietly.
Isabelle sighed slightly. "Still, she could try and smile a little more." Isabelle smirked.
Emma felt her heckles rise a little, she was already sure that Isabelle got some perverse pleasure out of challenging her or deliberately making herself seem superficial, which Emma sensed was not truly the case.
"Perhaps we should leave." Emma suggested quickly as she spotted her friends Mrs Hunt and Miss Edwina hurrying toward them curiously.
Isabelle reached a steadying hand for Emma's wrist and held it loosely as if offering a physical apology. "Let's stay." She pleaded softly. "I swear to behave."
Emma looked critically at the very sweet smile she was offered and despite her own good reason she couldn't help but trust it. They had no time to escape in any case as Emma's friends reached them.
"Emma dearest!" Called Mrs Hunt. "You are here in good time, I believe we are to hear from Mrs Dickenson herself tonight.
"Mrs Hunt, Ms Edwina, this is a family friend Miss Isabelle Tremain." Emma explained briefly.
Isabelle, shook each womans hand in turn and found an altogether more friendly greeting in the two women before her than that of Miss Selina Cooper. Isabelle smiled genuinely as she took in each womans appearance.
As the evening progressed Isabelle learned that Mrs Hunt had been an elementary school teacher for many years before meeting her husband. Of course when she married Mr Hunt she was immediately dismissed from her beloved post. No longer deemed fit to teach. Marrying later in life she was too old to begin a family now and had an aching gap that was once filled by the faces of the children she taught. The National Union of Teachers were not sympathetic to Mrs Hunt's plight, concerning themselves only with the issues of male teachers and so she had found herself here.
Mrs Hunt was probably around the same age as Emma but somehow seemed older, with her dark rimmed spectacles and sensible dress, unfortunately looking more dowdy than the similarly simple fashions looked on Emma, which Isabelle thought suited her far better.
The older woman of the group, Ms Edwina was an interesting character, she was obviously from money and spoke and held herself as a Lady would in many ways however her dress was littered with peculiar little trinkets; a brightly coloured bracelet and an unusual broch that seemed to be made of shell and coconut, a testament to her early life as a missionary.
Ms Edwina had been campaigning for as long as she could remember, every worthy fight in her life time had captured her support, every type of social reform in England. Ms Edwina had been a missionary as a young woman and had worked in the fight for abolition of slavery in the plantations owned by the British in the Caribbean. She was eager to tell a tale and Isabelle listened indulgently.
Emma had relaxed noticeably by the time that Mrs Dickenson had addressed the meeting and more so by the time that the women had begun to take their leave.
"I am certain you are regretting your decision to join me by now." Emma exclaimed as she found herself alone with Isabelle on the steps of the meeting hall.
"On the contrary, I had a lovely evening." Isabelle smiled and linked her arm through Emma's.
"Lovely?" Emma asked doubtfully, shivering slightly against the cold and clapping her gloved hands together.
"I mean, I know that the subject matter was serious and that people are rightfully very angry, but really I thought the women you introduced me to were wonderful." Isabelle admitted genuinely.
Emma grinned, warmed by the young woman's words and the way she leaned against her a little as they hurried along the street. They walked that way until they reached the Tremain's London home and Isabelle asked Emma to come inside.
"I shouldn't." Emma said shaking her head. "I have another article to write for tomorrow."
"Then I shall linger on the doorstep for a few moments more before you leave me." Isabelle teased.
"You should go inside." Emma instructed. "It's a cold night and you may not have fully acclimatized to this British weather following your travels."
"I am not cold." Isabelle said, peeling off a glove and stepping forward to push her hand inside the sleeve of Emma's Jacket and prove her words. Isabelle curled her warm fingers around Emma's wrist, covering her pulse point and causing it to leap a little.
The move had shocked Emma and she looked worried as Isabelle moved closer and looked her directly in the eye.
"See?" Isabelle asked boldly and Emma felt the warmth of her breath against her skin.
Emma took a step away from the intensity of that look and Isabelle reluctantly lost contact with her, just as a young servant girl walked around the edge of the building.
Emma made eye contact with the young maid and smiled a more kindly smile than she had offered Isabelle all day. Isabelle sighed longingly.
"Would you smile at me like that if I was a pauper Emma? A factory girl? Or even better a girl from the street, selling matches and whatever else to eek out an existence?"
Emma felt she was being teased or accused of something and she stepped back again. "What do you mean Isabelle?"
"Is my own wealth to be held against me? You seem only to have an eye for the poor unfortunates these days. But I suppose you always were one for a lost cause. You came to my rescue, took pity on me, and now I am old enough and silly enough to look after myself, I am a much less attractive prospect." Isabelle said forlornly.
"You are being dramatic Isabelle." Emma said impatiently.
"Am I? Well that is how I am these days I suppose." Isabelle shrugged defiantly. "If I was destitute you would save me wouldn't you? I could be worth saving, if only..." Isabelle stopped suddenly and sighed unhappily. "I know you think I am as shallow as a puddle, a girl who will never need to worry about the ways of the world, but I do, I do so very much."
Emma frowned. "Do not presume to know what I think of you Isabelle, I don't believe I have quite unraveled that for myself yet." She teased.
"Then I have a chance to gain your good opinion? For if I cannot obtain it I fear I really shall be a pauper." Isabelle said sincerely.
Emma wasn't sure how their conversation had come to this, with Isabelle she seemed always to be having two different discussions at the same time and it often left her completely lost, she supposed it was the folly of the young to be so overdramatic. A moments silence passed and then Emma made to leave.
"I shall send you the details for the trip to Ashby, if you still intend to come?" Emma checked.
Isabelle stepped closer, reluctant to end their time together. "Of course I do. It was sweet of Maura to include me. But lets not part until then, you took me to meet your friends, let me take you to meet mine."
Emma frowned. She was unable to put a finger on exactly why she felt uncomfortable with the idea of meeting Isabelle's friends, yet she did. She had already decided, somewhat unfairly, that they would be an unworthy bunch. It was with the reasoning that she should perhaps inspect the group Isabelle was associating with these days, the bohemians that Isabelle's mother, Tibby, found so repugnant and ensure that she was not at any real risk.
"Perhaps I could spare a little time, when do you propose?" Emma said, nervously twisting the brim of her hat between her fingers as she spoke.
Isabelle's smile glowed.
"Tomorrow!" She said quickly, leaning forwards and grasping both Emma's hands with her own and crushing Emma's hat between them.
Emma's eyes widened and her brow rose. "As soon as that?"
"Oh please dearest." Isabelle pouted.
Xxxxxx
"The last few days must have been difficult for you." Isabelle stated as the carriage lurched forward over a bump in the road. "Seeing her marry."
Emma shrugged. "I allowed myself to be quite distracted from it, as much as I could be, I mean...distracted from my own feelings about it. I wanted to be a good friend...to Maura and to Jane." Emma explained.
Isabelle had not mentioned any suspicions she may have had about Maura's relationship with Jane and so Emma felt she could not betray her friends by divulging the information. No matter how understanding Isabelle may be, theirs was not her secret to share.
Emma was shocked at how easily she suddenly found it to share this with someone. When she had found a confidant, of sorts, in Jane she had been hugely relieved, she hadn't realised what a burden it had become to hide her every thought and feeling. But even with Jane they had never actually spoken of anything so plainly. It felt good. Emma was surprised by how much she trusted her young friend.
"Before Paris..." Isabelle began. "I had a friend, at school, we were so very close, I cherished her and she me. I think she was my first love. She is married now. She is very happy. I think she knew how I felt. When she married I thought I would be alone forever. I welcomed it."
"I'm sorry." Emma said.
Isabelle shrugged. "I know now that a heart is capable of more than one love."
xxxxxx
A/N-Reviews are very welcome. x