Sunder by Kristin McTiernan Read Free Book Online Page A

fringe on the short sleeves tickling her arms as the dress came to rest on her shoulders. Elizabeth straightened it, then started fastening the buttons that went up her back.  She fastened each one slowly, smoothing the material over her body as she went.  After the button beneath her shoulder blades was done, she stopped. Isabella felt her assistant’s finger lightly caress the flesh beneath the base of her neck.
    “I always wanted a tattoo,” she said softly, “But Giuseppe didn’t allow it. It would probably hurt too much anyway. What does yours mean?”
    Isabella sucked in her cheeks to keep from growling at the girl.  She never talked about Etienne with her, why did she think talking about her own vile ex-husband was appropriate? Elizabeth had been granted an annulment after Alfredo sent pictures of her bruised and battered body to the Arch Bishop. If only Isabella had been so lucky to get a batterer; she could have separated from Etienne earlier.
    “It’s the Chi Ro, the symbol of Christ. Don’t you remember Catechism class? Just finish up.”
    And she did, only showing her disappointment a little.  The rest of the buttons were clasped in record time.  She then went to get the stockings and the shoes from the closet. 
    Straightening the red dress, Isabella sat back in her chair, pulling her skirt above her garter belt.  Elizabeth kneeled in front of her and began sliding her employer’s foot into the stocking.
    “I was thinking for my tattoo, I would put my name in Latin over my heart.” She smoothed the stocking up her leg, clasping it onto the belt.
    “What is your name in Latin?” she asked, not really caring.
    “Isabella, actually.” She smiled shyly. “Elizabeth is just the English translation.” The second stocking was clasped, the wrinkles smoothed away.
    “Why do you have an English name?  Aren’t both your parents Italian?”
    Elizabeth slid on the right shoe, a titillated smile on her face. “Mother was half Welsh. Elizabeth is my grandmother’s name.” 
    Elizabeth’s mother Stefania had not only been the maid, but also the guardian for Isabella when her parents were out at one social function or another.  She had been so breathtakingly beautiful and Isabella had longed to look like her. A pity her looks failed to pass down to Elizabeth. 
    Isabella’s left shoe buckled, and her ensemble complete, Isabella stood from her chair and walked to the locker she kept next to the door. “What’s Welsh?”
    She took off her medal of Saint Joan and her mother’s opal ring and placed them on the top shelf of the locker.  She had left her wedding ring at her father’s.
    “The Welsh are Celtic people who inhabited the British Isles before the Europeans invaded from the Continent.”
    Isabella did not bother to nod, not really interested in the little sects Anglos divided themselves into.  “Who would have thought Anglos could have been spawned by Europeans?”
    “The English were a great people. If it hadn’t been for the Civil War, I think they would still dominate the global arena.”
    Isabella sighed at her assistant’s misplaced ideals. “There would never have been a Civil War if the English had not challenged the Catholic King. James II was ordained by God to lead the English back to righteousness. They chose Godlessness and got what they deserved.” She closed the locker and pressed her thumb to the front panel, sealing it until her return.
    “Time?” Her tone indicated she wanted no further discussion of England.
    “1150,” the assistant said, her mouth tight.
    Isabella gave her desk a final glance and stepped over to the door. “I’ll be back at 1401. Please have tea set out for me.  Other than that, I won’t need you for the rest of the day.”  She opened the door and glanced back at her assistant, who looked back sadly at her. “I just love how I look in this dress!” And she was gone.
    It was 11:51 a.m.
    ***
    The click of her oxfords echoed off the walls