15

 

Alex’s voice was a death sentence.

“Given you? He has already decided…as if I were a brood mare and not a person? And you knew about this?” With every successive word, Isabel’s fury grew. Despite her feelings for Alex, this was not the way she wanted to be with him.

Alex raised his hands. “Isabel, let me explain.”

“This is my future. I had every right to know!” Her voice almost broke. “How could you keep this from me?” She dug her hands into her skirt, gripping the fabric roughly so she would not give in to the urge to hit him.

“Because you would have never given me a chance!”

His accusing tone destroyed any remorse she may have had. “You do not know that,” Isabel challenged, squaring her shoulders as she would against any other opponent.

He bent down so he could peer into her face. “Yes, I do. You would have done all in your power to push me away. And as it was, you very nearly did. I wanted the chance to win you on my own terms before you felt forced into the situation.” He looked out into the night, a muscle in his jaw working. “I know it is commonplace for arranged marriages, but I saw first-hand the bitterness and grief such unions caused. I did not want that for us.” He swung back around, facing her head on. “I wanted to give us a fighting chance.”

She stepped back. Away from him. Away from the yearning in his eyes.

“So that is why you would not leave me alone,” she said, evaluating every past encounter with Alex in a new light. Anger and uncertainty bolted up her spine. Every word he uttered now smacked of deception. Was it all a ruse? Was naught real to him?

“That is the problem, Isabel. You only know how to be alone. You pushed me away, just like you push away everyone else.”

She shook her head. Surely she was imagining the wistfulness in his voice. “That is not true.”

“Yes, it is.” He stepped toward her, a hand span separating them. “Your father and brother are gone. You are too Norman for your own people and too English for your conquerors. But you are not alone in all this. Not anymore.”

She scoffed. “Because of you?”

“Yes, because of me. You are bound to me whether you like it or not. Together we can help your people adapt to Norman rule.”

“I do not need your help.”

“Yes, you do! Would you rather have another of William’s knights take command and potentially destroy everything you and your father created in Ashdown? I have seen how much you care. I have seen your people through your eyes, seen their quality. Do you think another man will give them that chance? Do you think another man will respect your counsel? I am more than prepared to give you my protection, my name and my respect. Accept my troth and let me help you. If you will allow yourself, you will see how much we will give to each other.”

“You only want me to give you my lands, a conqueror’s decree.” He would not fool her again.

“God’s truth, Isabel, I will admit I set sail with William to better my lot. You can hardly blame me for taking the only chance available to me,” Alex said, the hurt clear in his voice. “And yes, William promised you to me as a reward for my services in the campaign, but you must look beyond that.” He reached out to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Because you are more to me than a reward. You are just as much a new beginning for me as I am for you.”

Isabel tried to pull away. He could not touch her. Not now, not with all this between them, but he held her fast.

“No, look at me. Listen.” Alex’s voice pleaded with her. “We complement each other perfectly. How can you be so blind to it, to us?”

She forced herself to blink, to sever whatever hold his eyes had over her. “I beg your pardon for being so blinded by your lies.” Isabel finally succeeded in shaking him off. She crossed her arms, scowling at Alex in the darkness.

He shook his head. “Do not profess your innocence in all this, my dear. You lied to me countless times. And your mistruths have higher penalties associated with them. A less understanding man could interpret them as treason.” He gave her a considering look. “You should thank me for being so forgiving.”

“I lied to protect my people. You lied to protect yourself. The difference is clear.”

“We both know you were the one who needed more time to come to terms with what happened,” he said, his voice heavy with condemnation. “You needed the reprieve. The interests of your people were only a handy justification.”

Isabel almost choked on her rage. “How dare you say that!”

“I dare because I am right. How many more excuses are you going to levy at me, Isabel? You and I already know that deep down you are relieved.” He reached out again and cupped her cheek. The touch bruised her heart. “Relieved that it will be me and not some brute or lackwit.”

He spoke the truth, but Isabel’s realization of it threatened her already tenuous control of the situation. “I hardly see the difference.”

“I will show you what the difference is,” he growled, moving closer to her.

She pulled back, sensing his intentions. “Do not touch me.”

“Isabel, we belong to each other.”

She continued to back away, shaking her head, resolve stiffening her frame. “Not yet. Not if I can put a stop to it.”

“If you would calm down, you will realize what an opportunity this is.” He took another step toward her.

“Do not,” Isabel said in a steely voice. Her hand hovered over the hilt of her seax. “I have killed men less deserving than you.”

Alex stared at her in outrage but nonetheless heeded her. “Come now, you must see reason.”

“Do not tempt me, Alex.”

He eyed her sword arm warily. “You know I would not hurt you…”

Isabel’s resolve slipped. “How can I be sure?” she cried. “You have hidden your true reason for coming into my life. You once asked for my trust, and now you have completely lost it. As far as I know, you are the devil himself,” she said, her voice hardening. “And I vow to keep you away from me and my people.”

“Nonsense. Nothing has changed. I am still the man you know.”

“Non, you are not.”

Alex shook his head in protest. “Enough of this or I will—”

“Or you will what? Kiss me against my will? Rape me to prove your claim?”

Alex stood, aghast, for one long moment. “How could you even suggest such a thing? What we have between us is—”

“There is nothing between us.”

Alex held up his hand for silence, his voice heavy with repressed fury. “I have heard enough, my lady. I will not waste any more of my efforts trying to convince you a match between us would be ideal. That is for you and William to discuss. My feelings toward you, my intentions, have always been honorable. I have come to care too much for you for them to be otherwise.” He pointed to the inn, hardly looking at her. “You must get some rest. We have two more days of hard riding ahead of us.”

“Alex…” she whispered, but she had no idea what she would say.

He turned away from her to look into the night. “Just go.”

* * * *

Isabel had long been awake before Captain Thomas’s soft rap interrupted the morning stillness. A night of fitful sleep failed to soothe her fury at Alex’s deception. The rope-slung mattress was no better than a night on the hard ground. Once she heard the servants moving about, she dismissed Averill and dressed in her traveling clothes. The only armor she had to face the day, and Alexandre.

She bid Captain Thomas enter. He eyed her clothes and her packed saddlebags, which rested beside her on the bed, but made no comment. “The men will be ready soon.”

“Very well.” She rose to her feet and shook the skirt of her riding dress into place.

Captain Thomas nodded and moved to leave, but Isabel forestalled him.

“I would speak to you, Captain Thomas, if you have the time.”

“Certainly, my lady.” He searched her face and shut the door behind him. “What is troubling you?”

Isabel took a deep breath and started to slowly pace across the wooden floorboards. “I am to be married.”

“I know. We have already assumed as much.”

“It is to be William’s choice,” Isabel continued.

“Yes, I am afraid that will no doubt be the case,” he said, his gaze wary as he tracked her around the room.

“I had hoped he would be reasonable and allow me some input, but it is too late.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked. “You have not even met with him yet.”

She stopped and whirled toward Captain Thomas. “Because Alexandre has already informed me of William’s decision—him.” The disgust in her voice left no doubt as to which him she referred to but the old knight made no reply and only raised an eyebrow.

“I could barely stand his impudence when he told me,” she said. “Of all the men to choose, William picked Alexandre.”

“Are you more upset William has made a decision or that he decided on Alexandre?”

Isabel sputtered for a moment, taken aback by the question. “But are you not surprised?” she asked.

Captain Thomas chuckled. “Surprised? Not at all. Indeed, my dear, I am surprised you did not see such a possibility yourself.”

“How did you know?”

“It became obvious to me when Alexandre not only tolerated your appalling behavior but provoked you at every opportunity. I assumed your…” he trailed off, searching for the right word, “…passionate nature intrigued him.”

Heat suffused her face. She scowled at Captain Thomas. “Why did you not inform me of your suspicions?”

“My lady, why did you not form your own?”

His words stung her in their clarity. She started to answer and then shut her mouth with a teeth-rattling click. Originally, she had interpreted Alex’s interest in her as one of the hazards of being a woman alone among battle-weary men. Then she had felt his interest in her was spurred on by the challenge she posed to his manly pride. Alex had made his feelings toward her known, but she had not considered him a feasible choice for a suitor. However, just when she thought his regard for her went deeper, she had learned he only wanted to win her favor so she would blindly agree to marry him when William proposed the match.

She shook her head, pacing the room in agitation once more. She had not expected Alex to be her betrothed. She was worthy of men well above an escort’s station, but Alex had shown on countless occasions the extent of his merit, and William needed to reward such men for their competence, honor and loyalty. But why did it have to be her? Her father had told her stories of how fickle William could be, and she should have been prepared for such a surprise.

She dragged her thoughts back to Captain Thomas, wanting to protest her ignorance, but he was already speaking, oblivious to her preoccupation. “The signs were there, Isabel, but you would not see them. You wanted to pretend William would treat you like your father did and let you do whatever you willed. Knowing all the difficulties you have faced these weeks, I thought it cruel to disabuse you of such notions. Forgive me for not saying something sooner.”

Did Captain Thomas think she was not strong enough for the truth? Isabel shook her head in disbelief. “Did you not think I should be prepared for this turn of events? That after all the upheaval, the chance to have my future’s uncertainty made certain would not bring some small comfort to my life?”

Captain Thomas raised his hands. “Isabel, would it have made a difference if you knew now or a week ago? Answer me truthfully, girl.”

She held his gaze for a moment, then looked away. “No, I suppose not. But Alexandre, of all people.” She pushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. “I have been such a fool.”

“Now, now. It is not so bad.”

“It is. He deceived me, lied about his intentions. And I was none the wiser. How could I ever trust a man like that, let alone marry him and grant him reign over my people?”

“I cannot speak as to why Alexandre misrepresented the truth of things between you. That is something you will need to ask him yourself, but I am certain you can learn to trust him, Isabel. Just as he will have to learn how to behave with you.”

“He would do well to learn to leave me alone.” As she spoke the words, Alex’s words the night before echoed in her head. Alone. She was utterly alone, was she not? No family, an uncertain future. Both English and Norman, and neither at the same time.

“That will not happen and you well know it.” Captain Thomas watched her for a moment, letting the silence fill the space between them. He shook his head. “I do not understand where all this hostility is coming from, my dear. I have seen the way you two interact. Despite your anger at how Alexandre handled the situation, some part of you must know your true feelings for him.”

“You are mistaken.” She put all her anger at Captain Thomas and his well-intentioned and entirely too truthful words into her voice.

“I am not, my dear. And it is high time you sort out your feelings on the subject before your audience with William. He will not be so tolerant with your meager excuses.”

Isabel glared at him, but he just gazed unapologetically back. He finally cleared his throat and headed to the door. “I will check on the horses,” he threw over his shoulder.

She gritted her teeth as the door slammed shut behind the knight. Isabel knew she should not be fighting with Captain Thomas when her real complaint was with Alexandre. However, the knowledge did nothing to soothe her ire. As she picked up her saddlebags, a wave of helplessness threatened to engulf her, but she fought it. She still had her meeting with William to contend with, and she would not see her people punished for her behavior.

With newfound resolve, she donned her traveling cloak and made her way to the stables.

* * * *

When they reached the outskirts of London, the late afternoon sun smoldered behind low clouds. Just as Alex warned, it had been two exhausting days in the saddle. Alex had set a grueling pace that pushed the limits of the horses’ abilities. Even Isabel, an experienced horsewoman, was sore and tired from their journey. Though she soon forgot about her mild aches as they made their way toward William’s quarters in London.

Seeing the condition of the town put uncomfortable pressure on her chest. Whole rows of buildings, shops and houses alike, were burned to the ground, the rubble in turn sheltering every creature of the town. Injured and sickly people crowded the streets. Norman soldiers patrolled the area, too often picking fights with the English townsfolk.

The crowds, the smells, the cacophony overwhelmed her senses. She looked forward to the chance to get off the streets and away from the soldiers who sneered at her English garb but appraised her figure. The displaced English people milling the streets either begged her for coin or cursed at her for joining with the Normans. All too aware of the attention Isabel received, Alex ordered the men to flank her and Averill, but every so often, some nimble fellow would break through their ranks to beg, barter or blaspheme.

An acquaintance of Alexandre’s—another of William’s knights—happened upon them and joined their party as they carried on to the motte and bailey style castle William had hastily erected as soon as he had claimed London. He told Alex the cramped conditions at the castle had forced many of William’s men to take rooms at common houses. Getting an appointment with William was also problematic. He spent much of his time handling various disputes with the London townspeople or meeting with the obsequious English nobility who continued to funnel into the city to pay homage. All of William’s men, now that the fighting was over, expected to learn whether their rewards comprised of lands, riches or titles.

As Isabel listened to the men talk, she realized she had not been the only one who wanted to know her future. All of the Norman soldiers had placed their hopes in William’s hands as well. That was true power, to control the destinies of so many.

When they reached the bailey, a servant directed Isabel and Averill away from the men and horses to the room Alex managed to procure. Alex must have been more important to William than she had been led to believe if he was granted rooms in the castle. Even if some parts of it were still under construction. It certainly was not on her account. Despite her father’s friendship with William, he would be foolish to treat her differently than the rest of the conquered.

Before long, a servant brought her a small basin of hot water and some fresh linens. Another pleasant surprise. It felt good to clean away the smell of horse and the dirt of the road. She donned one of her simpler gowns and smoothed her cloak into place.

As she ran a hand over her mother’s brooches, fear lanced through her. All of William’s men would be converging in the great hall for supper. Dare she join them? Would she, English-born but Norman-blooded, be welcomed to walk among the men who had shaped the fate of her country? She quailed at the idea. Her bravado with Alex was just that, and Isabel was afraid it would not stand up to an entire room of Norman men, let alone the very presence of William.

Alex knocked on her door once and then walked in. Isabel clutched a hand to her chest and urged her heartbeat to slow when she realized who her guest was. Averill hovered in the corner of the room, her attempts at unpacking halted.

Being with Alex again brought back too many memories. Before Isabel could address him, he spoke. “My lady, I would escort you to the evening meal.”

Hesitating for only an instant, Isabel nodded. “I will be but a moment.” She walked toward her bed and reached for her seax and sword, which she had not yet had the chance to don.

“You will not need those.” Alex’s voice interrupted her actions. “I do not want you to attract any more attention than necessary.”

“I understand.” Suppressing a frown, Isabel let her hand linger on the hilt of her sword briefly before following him into the hall. She felt naked and vulnerable without her weapons, and her proximity to Alex only intensified her apprehension. She wanted to pretend she did not need him to navigate William’s inner circle, but she could not afford to ignore him, not when the stakes were so high.

After a moment, he cleared his throat. “I hope your room is suitable.”

“Yes. It is.” It seemed an inadequate, even ungracious answer, but she let the silence between them fall.

“I am sharing a room with some of the other knights down the hall from you if you have need of me.”

“And Captain Thomas and the others?” Isabel asked.

“They were forced to find lodgings in town. I had a hard enough time securing our rooms.”

“I see.”

They came to a short flight of stairs, and after they descended, Isabel recognized the raucous laughter and shouts for more meat and ale—unmistakable sounds of a feast already in progress.

Alex placed her hand on his arm, and she let him. He watched her for a moment. “Isabel, there is nothing to be afraid of.”

She wanted to deny it. She faced him, a tart reply at the ready, but then thought better of it. “You are not the one walking into the lion’s den.”

Alex chuckled softly. “No one will bother you. Not if you are with me,” he said with a wink. He stopped, his face suddenly serious. He turned Isabel toward him, his hands heavy on her shoulders. “It would be wise to stay by my side or with my men while we are in London. I do not want you to have any difficulties with the soldiers.”

The intensity of his gaze fooled her into thinking he would kiss here right there and then. She knew she should say something, push him away… She should do any number of things to let him know he had no hold over her. Not after he had lied to her.

Before Isabel could react, Alex took her arm again and they walked into the hall together. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized William was not in attendance. They wound their way around the many tables filled with reveling Normans. There were only a few women who were not servants scattered around the hall, probably sisters and daughters of English nobles seeking clemency. Cringing at all the attention she was getting, Isabel realized she was no better.

Alex finally led her to one of the upper tables where Hugh waited for them. Isabel was surprised at how glad she was to see Alex’s taciturn shield bearer. He was a veritable prince among the drunken unknowns who filled the room.

Hugh and Alex sat on either side of her, a comforting buffer between her and the rest of the main hall. She ate her meal in relative peace and let conversation wash over her. She learned where Hugh, Captain Thomas and the rest of the men were staying. Alex also told her and Hugh his meeting with William would be in four days’ time. In the interim, Alex would have to attend various meetings and councils.

Four days. An eternity. The sooner she met with the new king, the sooner they could return to Ashdown. What if the Welsh attacked again while she was stuck in London? But she was the one who had delayed the journey, was she not? If anything happened in Ashdown while they were away, the blame would lie with her.

As the meal continued, Isabel watched the people around the room, all unmistakably Norman, unmistakably male. She watched them eat, laugh and drink. A few gazes lingered on her but most attendees were indifferent to her scrutiny. She could not help but compare the other Normans to Alex. Even in a room full of men, she was still aware of him and his every action. He sat so close to her, the heat of his body sank through the fabric of her dress to her skin. But he never touched her except when they both reached for the wine cup they shared at the same time. Seeing her start, he pulled back and let her drink first.

Even though it was difficult to make sense of the man who would soon be her husband, she could not deny Alex’s quality. His was the first face she turned to when she entered a room. His voice stood out even when he was among other boisterous men. His image remained ingrained in her mind whenever she closed her eyes.

He had invaded her life in so many ways.

At one point Alex must have felt her eyes on him. He leaned toward her. “Is something wrong?”

She hastily looked away from him. “I do not think so.”