Isabella was exhausted with the vigilance she and Mrs Jolyon had kept throughout the day. Every time Alix had wanted to go and look at the decorations downstairs, they’d managed to divert her attention. Whenever Alix claimed she could smell roasting chestnuts or melting chocolate and shouldn’t they go and have just a little taste, Isabella and Mrs Jolyon talked her out of it. “She’s going to guess we’re up to something soon. She’s not stupid,” hissed Isabella whilst Alix was packing underclothes with Bea in readiness for tomorrow. “I know, but what else can we do? Anyway, she probably does realise something’s up. She just doesn’t want to know.” “I don’t blame her,” replied Isabella. Mrs Jolyon looked sad. “Poor child. What a hard life she has led. I’d like to pack her up and take her back to India with me, where she could run around with Christopher and catch fish in the creek. She’d be good company for him and he for her.” Isabella smiled. “That’s exactly how I feel.
