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B ella walked away from Lord Vincent’s house at a brisk pace. The evening air had turned cool, and she tasted the salty breeze from the port. The house she left was on a hill. In the distance, she saw the ships coming into the port for the evening. Her father would be on one of those ships.

He was gone this time for nearly a month. She hoped he returned with wonderful treasures. Sometimes, he brought her gifts from across the sea. Books, candles he thought she might like, hats, scarves, and other things. But mostly she liked when he brought her books. He visited all the port cities and had access to all the places of the world she didn’t.

And yet she didn’t mind he traveled without her. When she was small, just after her mother passed, she traveled with him on his voyages. The high seas were exhilarating and full of wonder. But mostly she preferred to spend her days at home at their manor, Belcourt. When she was older, she remained behind with her governess and the other servants. Now that she was of age, she was able to run Belcourt while he was away on business.

She supposed they were wealthier than most. They had several servants in their manor house who kept her company when her father was away. The butler, Gerald, was a stoic man who tried to hide his emotions. Bella understood he was a man of little words who preferred his solace with books. She, of course, understood his love of books, for she was the same. He was a private man, never sharing any personal details of his life outside of their home. Bella respected that, too, and never asked prying questions.

The cook, Edith Graves, was a merry woman who had a big laugh and loved to talk about her family. She was widowed, but her children were grown and had children of their own. She had a ruddy complexion and wide blue eyes, and hair the color of a farthing. She was the youngest of six children who had a penchant for baking. Bella found her lemon cakes and other sweet treats irresistible. But she was also a terrific cook.

Her own maid, Emmaline, was attentive and sweet. She was young. Working at the manor house was her first real job. Her parents wanted a better life for her and had sent her on several interviews. Bella quite liked her the moment they met and hired her on the spot. That was three years ago. Beyond that, Bella had to admit she didn’t know much about the girl other than she was looking forward to spending her days off at home with her mother and younger sister.

Belcourt Manor sat the bottom of the hill close to the port. A most ostentatious name for their home, truly. Bella thought it silly to name it, but her father liked naming things. Even his fleet of ships had names. His favorite ship in his fleet was named the Emerald Voyager. Another he named Azure Starlight. And yet another Golden Tempest. He liked names for his ships that had a color in them. All of them did.

She smiled, thinking of that as she watched the ships sail into port with their sails flapping against the wind. She spotted the Emerald Voyager right away with its deep green sails. Her father would be home in time for dinner.

Thinking about that made her step a little quicker, a little lighter, as she hurried down the hill to their home. She pushed open the white gate and walked down the stone walkway to the front door, where she stomped up the steps to the porch. Moments later, she entered the foyer, pulling off her gloves. Gerald came bustling toward the door.

“Ah, miss, welcome home. I trust your day was productive?” he asked.

She handed him her shawl. “Yes, quite, thank you, Gerald. I saw Mr. Rinaldi’s ship coming into port on my way home. He’ll be here in time for dinner. Will you let Mrs. Graves know?”

“Of course, my lady.” He took her shawl and gave a low bow.

“Thank you, Gerald.”

She headed for the grand staircase to change her dress and prepare for dinner. Emmaline met her on the stairs.

“Oh, miss, you’re here early. I didn’t expect you so soon.” She paused in the middle of the staircase and waited for Bella to catch up to her.

“My father will arrive shortly. I want to dress for dinner and be ready for his return,” she said.

“Very good, miss. Would you like a bath as well?”

“Perhaps after we dine,” she said.

Emmaline nodded as they made their way up the stairs and down the hallway to Bella’s room.

Her room was on the east end of the manor and overlooked the port, with double doors leading out to a balcony. It was one of the things she loved about her room. At any time during the day or night, she could step out onto her balcony and inhale the salty air, watch the ships coming into or out of port, and hear the seagulls squawk as they hunted for food.

The four-poster bed was in the center. Across from that was the wardrobe where she had all her gowns and shoes. She was lucky enough to have an en suite bathroom complete with running water. Not many houses in the port city had running water, but her father was well off enough to make sure they had it.

“Did you enjoy your visit to Lord Vincent’s, miss?”

Bella expelled a sigh as she toed off her slippers. “I have to say I do enjoy his library, but something happened today.”

Emmaline’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

“He wanted me to dine with him.”

The girl looked confused. “You didn’t wish to stay?”

“I knew Father was coming into port today and I didn’t want to miss seeing him,” she said. “Aside from that, no, I didn’t. He’s much too old for me.”

Emmaline began unbuttoning the back of her gown. “I suppose. He’s a widower, isn’t he?”

“Yes. He’s never remarried.”

She helped her remove the dress, then stepped to the wardrobe to find something suitable for dinner. She chose a long gown in dark blue silk with a dropped waist, full skirt, and long lace sleeves. She held it up for Bella to approve.

When she gave her a nod, she helped her into the gown, then she sat at the dressing table while Emmaline brushed out her long, brown hair to rid it of the tangles from the day. She pulled back the sides and secured it with a sliver hair clip at the back of her head.

“I see you were hard at work writing today,” the girl remarked.

“Oh?”

She grinned at her in the mirror over the top of her head. “Your hands, my lady.”

Bella looked down and noticed ink still on her fingers. “I’m afraid there’s not much to be done about that, but I can try to scrub them clean.”

She spent a good amount of time with a bar of soap and warm water. She got most of the ink off her fingers, but they were still stained. She finally gave up after nearly half an hour of scrubbing.

As she exited her room, she heard the front door and knew her father had returned. She picked up her skirts and hurried down the stairs as he called out hello. Gerald was there in an instant, taking his hat and coat as they exchanged pleasantries.

“Father!”

Bella flew down the stairs and launched herself at him. He hugged her tight.

“There’s my girl.” He pulled back and held her at arm’s length. “Have you stayed busy while I was gone?”

She nodded. “Yes. I’ve done several translations while you were at sea.”

He hooked his arm in hers. “You have? You must tell me everything about it.” He paused and turned back to the butler. “Gerald, they’ll be bringing my trunks up from the ship. Will you have them delivered to my room?”

“They have already arrived, my lord,” he said, his face devoid of emotion.

“Wonderful!” Then he patted her hand. “I’ll go change for dinner and then join you in the dining room. I have a gift for you.”

“A gift? What is it?” Excitement lit within her.

“You’ll have to wait and see.” He grinned as he released her and headed for the stairs.

Bella could not wait to see what he brought her.

The dining room was one of her favorite rooms. The room was large, with a long mahogany table in the center and enough chairs for twenty. A plush rug in an intricate design was under the table. The soaring ceiling and dark damask wallpaper above the wainscoting added to the dramatic effect of the room. A sideboard was to one side. The table was set with their finest china.

Though they had enough space for twenty, she and her father rarely entertained. It wasn’t that they didn’t have friends or acquaintances in the city—they knew everyone in town. It was because they preferred not to have ostentatious parties. There was the occasion when her father would have several of the higher-class folks join them for dinner, but it was a rarity.

Bella sat back in her chair, her hands resting in her lap, after demolishing the delicious meal Mrs. Graves prepared for them. She was happily drowsy, with a full stomach and a glass of wine. All throughout the meal, she waited for her father to present her with his promised gift. Finally, she was unable to wait any longer.

“You said you had a gift for me, Father.”

He laughed. “I knew you wouldn’t forget. I wondered how long it would take for you to ask.”

He rose and left the dining room, then returned moments later with a large parcel in his hands wrapped in brown paper. He handed it to her.

“I thought you might like this.”

She ripped open the paper and then halted, peering down at a leather-bound book embossed with a circle of interwoven thorns forming a perfect ring. In the center of the thorns was a fragmented rose, as if caught mid-transformation from bud to bloom. There was a gold embossed border around the edges, and the title was in a language she had never seen before.

“What is it?” she asked, shoving aside the paper. She pushed away her empty plate and placed the book on the table in front of her, opening the cover. It cracked with age.

“A book, of course.” There was humor in his voice.

“But what kind of book?”

She flipped the pages yellowed with age and written in a careful, perfect hand with more of the same language inside. It was not written in traditional lines, but in spirals or what appeared to be blooming clusters. Whenever she came across a book with a unique language, she was almost immediately able to translate it. But not this one. It did not speak to her like the others.

“What language is this?”

“I thought you might like a challenge, my dear. The bookseller I bought it from had never seen this language, nor did he know where it came from.”

The book fascinated her. Her eyes skipped down the pages, trying to pick out a word or two she was able to understand. So far, nothing. Her language skills were definitely put to the test.

“I love it,” she breathed, though she wasn’t sure why she loved a book she was unable to read. “But I have no idea what it says.”

He chuckled. “You will in time, my dear. I have no doubt about that. Now, tell me what you’ve been working on.”

She closed the book and sat back in her chair, placing her hands in her lap. She told him about the rose and thorn language she was translating for Lord Vincent and the terribly sad story of the prince who was cursed to live alone locked away in his castle for eternity.

“I have a few more pages to translate, but I’m not sure I want to return to Lord Vincent’s.”

Her father arched a brow as he reached for his crystal wine glass. “And why is that?”

“Well…” She paused, unsure how to tell him the man invited her to dinner. “He asked me to dine with him this evening. Of course, I declined, because I knew you were returning today.”

He blinked surprise, and then the corner of his mouth lifted in a faint smile. “And you don’t want to return because you don’t want to turn him down again.”

She flushed as she looked at her father from across the table. She reached for her glass and took a sip of the too-sweet wine. “I do like him just…not the same way he likes me.”

Her father chuckled. “I’m not surprised he asked you. It was only a matter of time.”

Bella tipped her head to the side. “What does that mean?”

“He asked permission to court you,” he said, as though it were common knowledge.

The blood drained from her head in a whoosh. “Oh. What did you say?”

“I told him you were headstrong with a mind of your own and if you wished to be courted, you would certainly let him know.”

She stared at him as the shock rolled through her. Her father often surprised her. Now, especially. Though he didn’t want her left alone in the world when he was gone, he also would never make her marry for the sake of marrying. She, of course, knew that but hearing him reinforce that made her happy.

“Thank you, Father.”

“I know you want to marry for love,” he said. “I do hope some security will come along with that.”

Meaning, he wanted her to marry well. She understood that, too.

“But I’m sure whoever you choose will make you happy.” He downed the rest of his wine and pushed back his chair. “I think I shall retire for the night.”

She got to her feet and picked up the book he gifted her. “I think I’ll read for a while in the study, if that’s all right with you.”

“Don’t stay up too late.” He kissed her cheek and then headed out of the dining room.

Clutching the book to her chest, she left the dining room behind and headed to the study where her inks and parchments were in the hopes she could begin translating this odd book.