Goddess of Legend (32 page)

“As is she.”

He got a moony look on his face. “She is. I cannot thank you enough for the kindness you have shown her. She is very excited about this gown.”

“She is the best kind of friend, James. I am guessing she will be that much of a friend to you, as well as your life mate.”

He rubbed at his eyes. “We cannot thank you enough for your generosity.”

“All I want is for the two of you to be happy. I would plant a kiss on your cheek, if I had a ladder that would help me get up there.”

He surveyed the room again, and then said, “A kiss from a countess would be an honor.”

He bent down and she kissed his cheek. “All good wishes, James.”

“All good wishes to you and my king, Countess. I have feelings, and I know this feeling is right. You are meant for one another. As Mary and I are.”

He strode away before she could utter a single word.

She shook her head and went back to scrubbing the floor. Gwen was out with several servants, all of them beating the rushes to, she hoped, a merciful death.

Although Gwen had sworn she had a formula to also relieve their miserable selves from stinking.

“Isabel!”

She nearly fell over from the shock. She looked up, and there was Arthur, clean-cut and gorgeous. “Wow,” she said, standing up. “You, sir, are the most handsome king I have ever seen in my life.”

“And how many kings have you seen exactly?” he asked.

None, other than Arthur of course. “Naked, you mean? That would be one.”

He tried not to smile and failed miserably. “Isabel, why are you down on your hands and knees?”

“I’m cleaning. Trust me, this hall needs it badly.”

“There are people to do this.”

“Right. Like me. I am capable, Arthur. By the way, you look luscious.”

“Do not try to distract me with words I do not ken,” he said. “I want you not down on the floor.”

“Too freakin’ bad. I can help clean as well as anyone.”

“We have people who—”

“Arthur! If I am not willing to help, what does that say about me? Do not, and I mean really, do not give me trouble for helping clean this hall.”

“But there are people—”

“Do not even go there. Do you stand around as your men work out?”

“No, but—”

“Do you stand by while your men fight your battles for you?”

“No, but—”

“Then please don’t be upset when I do what needs to be done. I am no better than anyone because I happened to be born into royalty.” She had no idea if that was true in this alter reality, but she was going with it. “Are you any better than others because you managed to pull a sword out of a stone?”

“No, but—”

“We all bleed red, Arthur. We are the same.”

“Yes, but—”

She waited, but he seemed to be stumped. “Yes, but what?”

“You missed a spot over here, Isabel.”

And he walked away, into his study.

Good gods, she loved that man. She was going to kick his ass to be sure. But in the most loving way. She moved over and started scrubbing the spot she had missed.

THE wedding vows between James and Mary had Isabel almost crying. They were so true and heartfelt and Mary was a beautiful bride.

Gwen had truly outdone herself. The hall was spectacular with candles and flowers everywhere. In Isabel’s day, Gwen would probably be the most successful party planner in the entire state of Oklahoma.

The results were truly breathtaking.

Isabel, obviously, had never witnessed such a ceremony. It wasn’t religious, but so very spiritual.

“I do thee vow,” James said.

And as his second man, Arthur stepped before them. “You will honor your wife.”

“I will.”

“Protect her and keep her at all costs.”

“I will.”

“Isabel?” he said.

She moved in front of the two and twined their hands, as was the custom.

“You will honor your husband?”

“I will.”

“Protect and keep him at all costs?”

That was way off script. The wife was supposed to honor his wishes and obey his demands. But she could not have possibly choked that out of her mouth.

“She will,” James chimed in before protests could begin.

“I will,” Mary said.

“Excellent,” Isabel said. “You are so going to live happily together.” She bent and kissed Mary’s cheek. “He is a lucky man, m’lady,” she whispered.

Mary looked up at her and grinned. “Yes, he is.”

Arthur closed the ceremony and then called for all to celebrate.

“WHAT in Hades was that?” Arthur asked Isabel, when he finally managed to corner her.

“What?”

“’Twas not as ceremonies go. You—”

“Went off script, yes, I know. But it was so much more truthful.”

“Truthful?”

“Arthur, had you and I ever married—”

“You must mean
when
we marry.”

“Okay, dream on.
When
we marry, there is no way in hell I’m promising to obey you. And there was no way I was going to ask Mary to vow to do such a thing. So I improvised.”

He stared for a moment, then broke out laughing. “Oh, Isabel, you are a puzzle. And a constant delight.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment. I think.”

“Take it as a compliment. I think.”

“Then we’re good to go. Now let’s go celebrate.”

 

 

THE reception lasted well into the night. The food, wine and mead disappearing as fast as it was produced. To the credit of all who had to work the party, they seemed genuinely happy for Mary and James. If not, they put up a really good front. And Isabel had the feeling she knew who to thank for that.

She walked over to Gwen, who seemed to be giving Jenny a pep talk. Jenny was ringing her hands and nodding.

“Your voice is beautiful, Jenny. You will do just fine,” she heard Gwen say. “Just sing it like you did this morning.”

Jenny nodded a final time, then ran off.

“I must say, Lady Guinevere, your throw one hell of a party,” Isabel said.

Gwen smiled at her. “
We
throw one hell of a party. I could not have done this without you.”

“Or without a gazillion people helping.”

Gwen laughed. “That, too.”

They both looked as Jenny began singing. Oh, it was so beautiful. Isabel didn’t know the song, but she knew a voice like no other when she heard it. All clapped at the end, as well they should have.

Wow! Impressive didn’t even begin to describe it.

“She’s good!”

“In many ways. She sings to me during bathing.”

“Wow, lucky you!”

“Indeed.”

“Speaking of which, just what did you say to the staff?” Isabel asked.

“I am certain I know not what you mean,” Gwen said, swirling the wine in her goblet.

“I am certain you do.”

Gwen smiled, then sipped at her wine. “I merely mentioned how thrilled I was for Mary and James, and would it not be shameful if others did not share in their joy this night.”

Isabel nodded. “Very tactful. And effective. That was such a nice thing to do.”

“’Twas the very least I could do.”

“This is not the wine talking, this is me.” Isabel said. “I really enjoy and admire you, Gwen. When you step up, you really step up.”

Gwen’s eyes welled. She glanced around. “This is not the wine talking,” she said softly, “this is me. I understand, completely, why Arthur is so taken with you.”

Okay, it was Isabel’s turn to blink back tears. “No matter what the future holds, I hope we will always be friends, Gwen.”

“That is my hope as well. Perhaps even one day pinky-finger friends.”

Isabel nearly coughed up a mouthful of wine. When she finally managed to swallow, she said, “How do you like Lance’s hair?”

Gwen’s eyes went straight to her lover. “He does look exceedingly handsome, does he not?”

If you preferred the young pretty-boy types. Isabel figured that tastes differed drastically. She thought Arthur, with his rugged and oh-so-handsome good looks, was so much sexier. But at the moment she was thrilled that her idea of attractive and Gwen’s were from completely different planets. “He does, indeed,” she said, diplomacy being the better part of not getting her hair pulled out.

“And how about James?” she added.

“Who knew?” Gwen said.

“Mary did. She saw past all of that to his heart. But truly, he’s a very attractive giant.”

Gwen giggled. Then she said, “Even Mordred appears more handsome.”

“He needs a few years to grow into his looks, but he really lucked out in the gene department. I look at him and see Arthur at his age.”

“What did you do, Isabel?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something happened. Until recently he seemed to live to torture his father. But suddenly they are laughing and embracing. I saw them even exercising in the sword sport together just this morn. I just have this feeling that you had something to do with this transformation.” She paused, sipped. “And perhaps something to do with that knee injury.”

“Perhaps,” Isabel said.

They glanced at each other and both started giggling. Isabel raised a fist, pinky finger out. Gwen stared for a moment, then mimicked with her own. Then they hooked up.

“This means the world to me, Isabel.”

“And to me.” Isabel laughed. “Is this the strangest friendship ever?”

“Very possible,” Gwen said. “But rather fun, do you not think?”

“No one would ever believe it.”

“Which is why it is fun.”

A banging sound had them both nearly jumping out of their slippers. They looked over, and Arthur was standing on one of the long tables, getting attention by clanging a utensil against his stein.

“Please, may the happy couple step forward?” he boomed.

Isabel looked up at him and her heart nearly exploded. He was such a larger-than-life presence, so big and strong and, good gods, handsome. And he loved her. He desired her. He wanted to hold and protect her.

Maybe over time she’d be able to get him to be just a little less chauvinistic, but it really did, at this moment, strike her to the core all that he was, all he represented. He was a king, yet he was no dictator. He treated all equally. He valued every person at Camelot, treated them as family. And all here, as far as she had seen so far, adored him and admired him in return. Wonder of wonders, he loved her. She had no idea why, but then again she was not about to question it.

She could barely breathe just staring up at him.

“Please, have all of the servants come join us,” he said. “They have worked so hard to make this night a success.”

There was a moment of silence as Mary and James stepped up to the table and the staff filed in from all parts of the castle.

Arthur glanced around, his eyes squinting. “Well, I know that they are here, but at the moment, I cannot find them. But, James and Mary, you very likely have been too excited and busy to take note, but the queen and the countess worked as hard as all to make this night as memorable for you as is possible.”

Cheers nearly broke Isabel’s ear drums. She grabbed Gwen’s hand and they squeezed. What a strange alliance.

James rumbled up atop the table as well, and Isabel thought all held a collective breath, wondering if there was a table on earth that could hold him. Kudos to the carpenter, this one held under his weight.

“I, too, would care to thank everyone,” James said. “And I, too, thank the queen and the countess for their hard work to make my new life with my beautiful wife, Mary, start with such great joy. Our king may not ken that I saw all that you did, but I indeed was witness to it. And Mary and I cannot even begin to show our gratitude.” Big, large, no, gigantic James had to wipe his eyes. “Our everlasting appreciation. Is Camelot not the greatest kingdom of all?”