That evening, Antony and Isabella had a quiet dinner in Isabella's private parlor.

Isabella was still overjoyed at making the acquaintance of Meredith. She had asked Meredith, at the end of their work for the day, if she might request the girl to help her again tomorrow. To her happiness, she had said that yes, she would enjoy that.

Antony, for his part, noticed that Isabella seemed in a much better mood than she had been yesterday. It was a good thing, he supposed; he felt rather bad for sleeping half the day and leaving her to find something to do with herself.

"What has you in such a good mood?" he inquired.

"I worked in the gardens all day today," she replied, smiling. "And one of the servant girls and I chatted. It was really very pleasant."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. I apologize for sleeping the day away..."

"Antony, it's not as if I didn't notice you haven't been sleeping well lately. I purposefully told Fulton to let you sleep as long as you liked."

He looked up briefly, met her eyes, then looked down at his hands folded in his lap.

"Thank...you, Isabella," he finally said.

She sighed. "Mother arrives tomorrow morning."

"Ah yes. Well..." He frowned. "I suppose, if you wish to awake early and go out to the greenhouse, I can arrange to distract her for you. At least then you will have a few hours of peace."

"Thank you, Antony," said Isabella, sounding grateful and relieved.

"It's the least I can do after your consideration of me this morning."

Meredith wrote her first note to Evan that evening. She decided not to mention much about the Princess, except to say that she had worked in the greenhouse at Fulton's orders to help Isabella. She would leave out any of her confused feelings about what it would mean to be the princess's friend, or the fact that she had been happier with Isabella today than she had been with anyone in a long time.

She undressed and got into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin and staring at the ceiling. She had a lot to think about.

Eventually, the moon high in the sky and shining through her window, she finally turned over and managed to fall asleep.

That morning, Meredith had plenty of time in the dining hall to eat breakfast, alone at the end of the table, while the other servants gathered in small groups and gossiped and chatted. She sighed and looked back down at her food, buoying her spirits with the thought of working again with Isabella in a little while. She wondered if she would be meeting Isabella in the greenhouse, and, if so, when? The Princess hadn't really specified yesterday.

Just as she was worrying over this new problem, the door of the servants' dining hall opened and a hush fell over the table, followed by the collective rise of every servant in the room, the men bowing and the ladies curtsying.

"Oh!" came the surprised voice of Isabella. "That's all right! Continue with your breakfast."

She spotted Meredith, and, with a smile, came to sit before her.

"Are you enjoying your breakfast?"

After Meredith recovered her surprise at seeing Isabella down here of all places, she smiled.

"It's very good; it's better here than anywhere else I've worked." After a moment, she added. "What are you doing down here so early? It's only six o'clock."

Isabella smiled sheepishly.

"I'm avoiding my mother, the Princess Therese, who is set to arrive here very soon this morning. Antony told me he would preoccupy her if I went out to the greenhouse." She sighed, looking a bit sad. "It's not that I don't love my mother...but every conversation lately involves marriage and her plans for me to marry someone rich who can provide for me. I just...want to avoid that for a little while more. I'll have to deal with it soon enough."

Meredith nodded. "I understand," she said. "Do you want to start working?"

"Oh, finish your breakfast first! I don't want to interrupt you terribly."

Meredith smiled and finished her breakfast quickly.

The two ladies then headed out the back servants' door to the greenhouse.

Meredith was surprised, but pleased, when Isabella slipped her arm through hers, companionably.

"Good morning, Nephew," said Princess Therese cheerfully, positively beaming at Antony as he offered his hand to her to assist her in alighting from the carriage. "Where might my daughter be?"

"I regret to tell you that Isabella is...occupied at the moment, Aunt Therese." Noticing the disappointed look on Therese's face, he added quickly. "However, I was wondering if you and Grandma Olivya would give me the pleasure of escorting you to breakfast?"

Aunt Therese now seemed sufficiently appeased and appeared to have forgotten her disappointment at her daughter's preoccupation and absence from the arrival of her carriage.

Once breakfast had been served and Aunt Therese was firmly ensconced in her chair at the table, enjoying eggs benedict, Antony allowed himself to relax a bit, for he had been successful in his purpose of distracting Therese from her daughter.

Now he had to hold her attention to keep her from suddenly remembering a list of things she felt she needed to tell Isabella.

All those plans, however, were dashed to pieces, when she suddenly announced to the room that she had found a suitable husband for Isabella, and this had been the news she had wanted to give to her daughter when she had arrived this morning.

The breakfast suddenly became a battle ground, as all three of the table's occupants now held opposing opinions about the match.

It is a very good thing, mused Antony, that Isabella is not here for this.

"I think that the two of them shall be very happy together," Aunt Therese was saying. "He is wealthy, and titled, and his family is distinguished. His estate is well-known."

"Perhaps this is true" said Antony, carefully. "But do you know of his character? Of his mannerisms? How shall he treat Isabella, once they are married? Is he a kind man? Are his servants well taken care of? Does he treat them well?"

Therese faltered, then glared at her nephew. "I've never met the boy, only his parents, but I'm sure..."

"You've never met him?" exclaimed Antony, incredulous. "Good heavens, Aunt Therese! You know nothing about this boy and yet you expect Isabella to marry him!"

"I gave her plenty of time to choose on her own!" shot back Therese. "She didn't! She is almost twenty-two. Most all girls are married by her age, and yet she is not. Can you really blame me for wanting to help my daughter, since she refuses to help herself?"

"Grandmother!" said Antony, firmly, suddenly turning to Olivya. "You had an arranged marriage. Were you happy?"

Olivya looked back and forth between her grandson and her daughter in law and hesitated, not wanting to be pulled into the argument.

"Were you happy?" repeated Antony, his tone more demanding.

"No..." she finally said, softly, memories of Rupert's indifference towards her, his wife, assailing her.

Antony turned a stony gaze back on Therese, as if this proved his point.

"I have heard what you have to say, Antony," she said, icily. "However, you are not her father; in fact, you are younger than she is. It is none of your concern."

"I beg to differ, dear Aunt," he said, meeting her gaze across the table, and glaring at her. "For Isabella is my cousin, and my dearest friend. She should not have to marry any one whom she does not know, or does not want to marry. Let her meet this man you have chosen for her, and if she does indeed choose to marry him of her own volition, very well. But if not, you shall not force her to."

"I know what is best for my child!"

"Then let her make her own decision."

Aunt Therese seemed to be thinking for a moment. Then, she smiled, becoming so suddenly happy that it automatically raised Antony's suspicions.

"I think I shall do as you say, Antony, and simply let her meet Lord Andrew...on one condition."

Olivya looked first at Therese, then at Antony.

Antony, after a moment's pause, frowned, and then spoke. "What is it?"

"You shall, at the coronation ball, spend some time getting to know the Lady Adelaide of Westchester."

Antony groaned inwardly but, secure in his position to overrule his aunt's bids for marriage (if one is to be king, one may as well use one's advantages) eventually nodded.

"Very well."