Mystic Mountains

him, Bella," Dougal said. Isabella saw his mouth turn do wn at the corners and knew the last thing he wanted was for her to go anywhere with Tiger, let alone to a ball at Government House. His knuckles were white where he'd clenched his fingers.
    "Why, just because he 's the lord and master? He doesn't own me, Dougal."
    "He does, Bella," Dougal reminded her.
    Isabella pressed her lips together defiantly.
    "Dougal 's right, Bella—you shouldn't miss such an opportunity," Thelma agreed, and Gillie nodded, waving his pipe up and down along with his head.
    "But I don 't know how to move, talk or act among gentry, Thelma. I'll make an idiot of myself. He'll wish to goodness he hadn't asked me." Isabella stared at her hands. Perhaps that's what she should do, go and show him up. Why had he asked her? The question nagged at her.
    "He offered to teach you to dance. Don 't throw his offer back down his throat. And as for them being gentry, that's rubbish. The Governor has a habit of asking ex convicts to his house. He likes to rub the noses of the free settlers in it. They think they're too good to mix with the likes of us. If you let this opportunity pass you'll live to regret it." Thelma pushed herself out of the chair and slowly stood up. "Anyway, I'm off to bed." Folding her sewing she put it in the basket on the dresser. "'Night all."
    "I 'll come with you, love." Gillie also rose. "Put out the lamps, Dougal, will you. Just leave one on for Tiger. Goodnight." He followed Thelma out.
    A wind had sprung up earlier. The door and windows were open wide to let as much cool air in as possible, and a gust sent leaves swirling across the floor. Aimlessly Isabella fetched the broom to sweep them out.
    "Who would ha ve thought nine months ago you'd be getting an invite to the Governor's ball, eh, Bella?" Dougal sat twisting a piece of twine in his fingers. "I wish I could take you. I wish I could do all the things Tiger does."
    " Tush, Tiger, Tiger!" Isabella thumped the broom against the wall. "What's so grand about the things he does, eh? He tells a load of stories and pretends he's something he's not. And why do you want to do what he does? You want to get a fancy mistress and set her up in a fine house with a parlor, eh? Well, go ahead, what's to stop you? You're a free man, go off on your own and make a fortune same as he has. Perhaps he'll teach you how to gamble." Isabella limped over to the door. "I'm going out to the privy. I can't stand to listen to all the praises you heap on him." She pushed her dress away from her neck and sighed, wiping perspiration from her face on her apron hem.
    " I should have thought by now you'd realize how well off we are here. I couldn't make my way as he's done, and you know it. Some of us were made to work for someone all our lives. I don't have what it needs to strike out on my own. I still shudder sometimes when I think of what life might have been like if Tiger hadn't stepped in and spoken for us. You could have ended up with Malloy. And I could have ended up working with the sheep, alone somewhere with only the animals to talk to, until I went mad like some of the shepherds do out there alone for weeks on end." He did shudder then, as he went to snuff out the candles in two of the lamps.
    Isabella sighed. "You 're right, Dougal." No good arguing against his logic. She knew how well off she was. "Goodnight." With her hand on the door-frame she smiled at him.
    Dougal walked over to stand in front of her. By the light of the one candle she saw the glimmer in his eye s and knew it for what it was. He put a hand on her arm and his head bent to hers.
    Isabella drew back sharply, seeing the disappointment clear in his eyes. How she wished she could return his feelings, but she just couldn 't.
    "Bella?" There was a wealth of yearning in the one word.
    "Oh, Dougal, let's not change things, eh?" Isabella gave a shuddery sigh. "You're a dear friend to me, an' I'll always be grateful to you. But ..."
    In a rare show of tempe r he pushed her away. "Grateful? It's not your gratitude I'm after, Bella, an' you know it. I see the way the land lies. An' you're barking up the wrong tree, same as me. He's got his eyes set firmly on marrying one of the nobs' daughters. If you think he's ever going to look at you as anything more than an Irish biddy who works for him, you're sadly mistaken."
    "You don 't know what you're talking about, Dougal. What a load of rubbish. What would I have feelings for that