17

 

Abandoned in the hallway, Isabel struggled to keep a placid expression on her face. She inwardly cursed Alex for not warning her their meeting with William had been moved up.

Was this not the moment she had built up in her mind when Alex first pronounced William’s interest in her family? Now was her chance to convince the man who had engineered her country’s conquest that she, a noblewoman, was competent in all things necessary to keep the Dumont lands prospering. She did not need a man’s oversight. Nothing had to change.

She exhaled slowly, doing her best to ignore the guards eyeing her curiously as she waited. William’s fickleness was the only thing that could potentially work in her favor, but she feared her request would provoke his anger, not the changes to her fortune she so desperately wanted.

She had known for some time she would not get her way, but feeling it was different. She felt the danger as opposed to just being aware of its existence. It was just beyond the door. She should be grateful. Other Englishwomen were not treated as well as she had been. And no one would be given a husband like Alexandre. Indeed, Alex tempered her protests—she did not want to object too hard and risk having her attraction to Alex replaced by the cold duty to another.

Despite the time she and Alex had together in London, neither broached the topic of William’s decision. Alex had been too honorable, she supposed, to bring it up again, and Isabel was too stubborn. Any chance to clear the air between them before William made the arrangement final was gone. It should have made her angry, but all she felt was a profound emptiness, as if she had lost something but did not know what it was. She only knew that it was gone. Like so many other things.

Isabel started when the door opened a few moments later. Alex’s face betrayed no emotion as he took her arm and escorted her in. No triumph. No doubt. Did he still want her? She tried to leave her misgivings behind her as Alex brought her face to face with William.

The monarch sat at a small table strewn with maps and legal documents. He looked tired, but his sharp eyes lit up with interest as she entered the room.

Without waiting for Alex’s introduction, Isabel curtsied. “My king, I have come to swear an oath of fealty for my family, the Dumonts of Ashdown.”

William watched her, amusement dancing in his nearly black eyes, then clapped his hands. “Enough, my dear. Let me have a look at you.”

Isabel straightened and tried to smile as the king’s gaze wandered over her.

“Well met, my dear, but I will always think of you as that bewitching child who clung to her father’s knee.”

“I am honored my lord remembers.” Isabel heard Alex’s sharp intake of breath, but she did not acknowledge it. After all, he had never asked if she knew William, and she had never volunteered the information.

William looked to Alex. “Alexandre, you will forgive me for wanting to reminisce. The last time I saw Lady Isabel, she had just survived her first crossing. Her father could not bear to leave her behind.”

Isabel stiffened at the memory, and William’s face immediately collapsed into the picture of contrition. “I am sorry. Alexandre told me about your father. He was a good man.”

“My lord is very kind.”

“Bah!” He waved away the compliment with a stout hand as he would bat a fly. “We should move on to more immediate things.” He stood, his stocky frame straightening, and gestured to Alex. “Alexandre, if you would excuse us.”

Alex’s eyes widened in surprise at the dismissal, but he was too much the picture of good manners to let on. “My lord.” He made a quick bow and left the room but not before he lanced her with a look brimming with questions.

As the door shut, William trained his gaze on Isabel. The cool intelligence in his eyes belied his jovial expression.

“You have given Alexandre a difficult time, no doubt.” Before she could answer, he started to slowly pace the room. “If I did not have it on such good authority you are an exceptional woman, I would be disappointed. Nevertheless, here we are.”

He watched her for a moment, as if daring her to speak, even though he must have known she would not. “Now, I have selected Alexandre as your husband. You have already had the opportunity to measure his quality. However, he has informed me he will defer to your wishes in that matter. Which makes me wonder what happened while he was in Ashdown.”

This time there was no mistaking his desire for her to respond. “My lord, I confess I was upset at Alexandre’s presence in my home. There were some…misunderstandings.”

“Misunderstandings!” He shook his head. “Alexandre may not have handled the situation as delicately as he should have, but he is a most trusted liegeman. He may be overzealous in his actions, but I would not accept less from him. But you, my dear… My expectations of you were very different.”

Isabel unclenched her hands, knotted at her sides. She had to explain herself. “My lord, this has been a difficult time for me with both my father and brother dead and my future uncertain. I have tried to be protective of my family’s legacy.”

“You knew I would not let anything befall you if it were in my power to do so.”

Isabel opened her mouth to speak but fell silent.

Understanding spread across the monarch’s face. “Ah. You did not trust me to remember you father’s loyalty or, worse, trust me to do what is best for you.”

Isabel tried to deny it, but he would not hear of it. “Come, come, my child. Do not think me so heartless. I am a warrior, yes, but I am still a man.” He straightened, and once more, he was the calculating king who had orchestrated the conquest. “Has Alexandre mistreated you?” he asked in a hard voice.

“Non.”

“Hurt you in anyway?”

“Non.”

“Do you find him lacking in intelligence?”

“Non, my lord.”

“Do you find his physical appearance unappealing?”

Warmth spread through her at the question, and she looked down at her hands, clutched together in front of her.

“Come, come, out with it,” William urged her.

She raised her head and cleared her throat. “I suppose not.”

William nodded. “Then unless you can suggest a better candidate, I see no reason why Alexandre should not marry you. Is there anyone else?”

Her breath squeezed out of her lungs. He was giving her a choice, but Isabel had no one to choose from. There was no one, English or Norman.

There was only Alex.

She closed her eyes. “Non, my lord.”

“Hmm. I thought not. Then it is not so much Alexandre but marriage then? Willful, no doubt a product of your father’s indulgence.” He let the silence stretch on for a moment. “Tomorrow then.” His voice was heavy with finality. “After Vespers.” 

The pronouncement was a dismissal, but she was a fool if she did not take this opportunity to speak with her country’s new king.

“My lord, do not ignore Wales too long. As Alexandre can attest, we have already forced back two raiding parties just in Ashdown these past weeks. They will not hesitate to press their advantage during this transition.”

William collapsed into his chair. “You speak truth, my dear. If England were not given to me by God, I would question ruling a people who not only hated me but were surrounded by such fierce enemies to the north and west.” He sighed. “Worry not. I will deploy my best men to the Marches. Including your Alexandre.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Isabel managed to curtsy and moved toward the door.

“Do not fault Alexandre for being what he is, Isabel. He is a man, but he is a good man. Remember that, my child,” he called after her.

It was over, her fate finally and firmly sealed, but she no longer felt the dread she had been carrying with her for so many weeks.

Alexandre waited for her outside. He fell into step beside her. She braced herself for an onrush of questions, but he stayed silent. They nearly reached her room, when she spoke, her voice surprisingly steady. “Tomorrow. After Vespers.”

Alex stopped. “What do you mean?”

“Tomorrow we are to be married. That is what you wanted?”

“Hoped for, yes, but I expressed to our king you were not to be forced into the decision.”

“I was not.”

At her admission, he smiled softly. “My lady honors me.” He took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist, making her tremble ever so slightly.

Isabel glanced about the deserted hallway. “Alex…” 

He straightened, and they resumed their walk, but not before he let her see the spark of hunger in his eyes. “You never told me you knew William.” His tone held more amusement than accusation.

“I was very young. I did not expect him to remember.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “It was after my mother’s death. My father needed to return to Normandy to check on his holdings there. Julien had already started his fostering, and without Mother, I think Father felt guilty leaving me behind.”

“So you went to Normandy.”

She nodded.

“How many more secrets do you have?”

Isabel looked at him before responding. He meant the question as a jest, but the issue of trust fell over them like a shadow. “The number of secrets I have depends on how well I can trust you.”

The lingering mirth in his eyes vanished. “And will you let yourself trust me?”

They came to a stop in front of her room. She opened the door, but paused before entering. Averill was absent, probably consigned into service in the kitchens for the Christmas Day feast.

She turned. “That is not something you can ask, only what you must earn.”

Alex followed her, leaned against the doorframe, the casual pose belying the seriousness of the conversation. “Have I not proven myself worthy of trust, my lady?”

The tone was light, but Isabel was not sure she wanted to reopen old wounds. “Things are still so new…”

He nodded. “For both of us.” He studied her for a moment. “Very well, what can I tell you about myself to set you at ease? I am sure you still have questions.”

She beckoned him to follow her into the room, and once they were inside, he shut the door. “Tell me why you sought to hide our betrothal from me.” She faced him. “You said you wanted the chance to court me on your own terms before I learned the truth, but I cannot help but feel it was all a game to see how long it would take for me to fall into your arms.”

“This,” he said, gesturing between them, “is no game. I admit I did my best to charm you, but I know the alternative would have been far worse.”

“What do you mean?”

He started to pace. “Your parents loved each other, did they not?” he asked her suddenly.

“Yes, they did,” she replied, unsure why that was important.

“Well, mine did not. My mother’s family forced her to marry my father, so the barony would be strengthened. My parents were strangers before they married, and as time went on, it became clear they were not well-suited to one another.” He cocked his head. “Though I confess, I am not sure what woman would have pleased my father. The constant warfare made him cruel. My mother suffered his abuses for years, and at some point—I am not sure when—she started fighting back. The strife became too much, and she tried to take her life when I was but your age. My father sent her to a nunnery after that to recover, but it was only a matter of time. The abbess told me she had no will left to live.”

“I am so sorry, Alex,” Isabel murmured. She had not realized he had experienced such a strained childhood.

“I stayed in Caen for a summer, visiting with my mother at the convent when she was well enough. The abbess took pity on me, and during my time there, taught me my letters. It was a welcome distraction from my mother’s decline, and I think the abbess knew that.”

He sighed and shook his head as if to clear it. “I am telling you this in the hopes it will explain why I was so resolute in my pursuit of you. I knew we would be bound to each other for the rest of our lives, but I was determined to live a different life from my parents. In fact, I was not certain I would accept William’s offer, initially.”

He stopped pacing and faced her once more. “It would depend on you.”

“And I assume I was not too objectionable.”

He chuckled softly. “Your beauty was enough to keep me interested when your manners were lacking. And the more time we spent together, the more opportunities I had to see the possibilities. I hoped I could wear down your defensiveness and get you to see the potential between us.”

He paused for a moment and captured her gaze again. Isabel’s breath left her in a rush at the intensity of his eyes, burning like sapphires. “The pull between us was another pleasant surprise.” His low tone sent a sharp current through her belly. “Isabel, I know you were hurt by my deception, and I am sorry for it, but I hope you can understand it was not done cruelly.”

“I think I understand.”

He crossed the distance between them, came so close she could reach out and touch him if she wanted. He opened the pouch strapped to his belt and pulled out a pendant on a fine chain. “This is for you. It was my mother’s. She gave it to me before she died.” He held it up. Torchlight reflected off the translucent stones.

“It is very beautiful.” She made no move to take it from him, as it was not her place to do so.

Alex placed it around her neck. “There.” He did not back away. Instead, he trailed his fingers along the chain down her neck until they rested on the pendant and teased the warm skin underneath.

Isabel sucked in a breath, swallowing his earthy scent of leather, wood smoke and something she could not identify—it was simply him. She felt his pull, calling her across the last few inches separating them. He was watching her again, something in his gaze speaking to her in a language she did not know.

Then he kissed her, and all uncertainty dissolved.