Siege Of the Heart (16 page)

“May I ask then what is the purpose of your trip?” As always, his words were polite, but she heard the unyielding steel in his voice. If she did not supply a satisfactory answer, he would no doubt prevent her from leaving.

“We will be inviting my father’s tenants, the townspeople and the neighboring thanes to the castle in three day’s time for a feast.” She had already gone over her meal ideas with the kitchen staff and informed Matilde and the other servants of the decorations she wanted for the hall. Seeing his surprise, she continued, “The winter months are hard for some people, and our stores can support them for at least one night.”

“Why not wait until Christmastide?”

“We usually hold a large celebration for Epiphany but have smaller gatherings for Christmas. Besides,” she looked away from his warm gaze, her fingers plucking at her mantle, “morale is low among our people, with their king dead. They need fellowship at this time.” She decided she would also announce Lord Dumont’s death at the gathering. It was time for her people to know, and past time for her to finalize her future.

She hated to admit it, but she could no longer postpone meeting with her new king. Alexandre and his men grew more impatient as each day passed with no tidings of her father. The longer she delayed, the more she risked reprisals from William. And she well knew the Welsh would not be scared away for long. The sooner things were settled, the better.

Isabel relaxed when Alexandre finally nodded. “That is very generous of you. Are you sure I cannot be of service to you or Captain Thomas?”

She shook her head. “Most of our people would be uncomfortable around Normans at this time. I am sure you understand.”

“You are worried my presence would kindle their fears.”

“Yes.”

Alexandre nodded again. Isabel thought she saw a flash of regret pass over his face, but before she could be certain, a servant announced a messenger. She was taken aback to see the messenger address Alexandre.

“I come with news from William.”

Alexandre turned to her. “I must attend to this.”

“Certainly,” she said, doing her best to pretend the dismissal meant nothing to her. What was so important about William’s message that she must be excluded? Unease coiled in her stomach like a snake. She wanted to stay and hear his response, but she needed to make preparations.

She strode out of the hall to meet Captain Thomas, determined to put Alexandre out of her mind.

They rode through town, visited the freemen’s farms and even sought out the remote charcoal burners’ huts along the edges of the Dumont lands. Everything seemed so ordinary, despite Norman control over England. Her people were busy with their daily chores. Even though they would soon have a new king, meals still needed preparing, livestock needed care and firewood needed collecting. There were still squabbles over chickens, cattle and the occasional counterfeit silver penny, and news of a feast was a welcome distraction from not only the invasion but the dullness of the everyday.

Many were scared, but their apprehension visibly diminished when they saw Isabel on her horse and heard her assurances. As long as Isabel feigned normalcy, she knew her people would do the same. What would happen when they learned of her father’s death? Would they accept her authority over them?

They respected her, that much she knew, but did they trust her enough to see them through this time?

* * * *

“My lady, I would speak with you.” Alex entered the solar, the private room over the hall Isabel often retreated to at the end of the day. He pulled the door shut behind him without bothering to wait for her response. She would hear him, regardless of whether she wished it.

“What is it?” Isabel looked up from the accounts she had been reviewing by candlelight.

And for much too long, based on the redness rimming her eyes. She had been pushing herself too hard of late, and it showed. He had no desire to add to her troubles, but circumstances would not allow otherwise.

“The messenger today brought some news of interest to you,” he told her.

She looked down at the papers on the table. “When will you be leaving us?”

He gritted his teeth. “When my lady is willing to accompany me.” Already, Alex’s temper wakened at her careless tone, but he could not afford to engage her in another verbal sparring session. He cleared his throat. “I took the liberty of contacting London to inquire after your brother, to be certain.”

Isabel finally gave him her full attention. “And?”

Alex squared his shoulders and kept his gaze on hers. “I am sorry, my lady, but as we suspected, he is dead.”

Isabel rose, her face the color of ash, but managed to maintain her composure. “And the body?”

Alex shifted his feet. “Reports say he fell in battle.” Anything of value on her brother’s person would have been scavenged before the army moved on. He and other fallen soldiers might have been buried unshriven in mass graves, if they were lucky enough, but there was no way to be certain.

She nodded with great effort. “I see. Thank you, sir, for bringing this to my attention. You will excuse me?” she said as she walked past him. Her hand trembled as she reached for the door.

“
Non
, Isabel, you are not to be left alone.”

She spun and faced him. “Tell me not what I can and cannot do.”

Hurt throbbed in her voice, and he wanted to dispel it. As he took in the remote expression on her face, the strict way she held herself, he knew she would reject any of his attempts. But he had to try.

Alex strode to the door, blocking her exit. “I can and I will. You have carried too many burdens for anyone, let alone a woman.”

“Why will you not leave me alone?” she demanded.

“You are suffering, Isabel, and I cannot bear to see it.” He fell silent.

“I must go.” She tried to push past him, but he remained immobile. The first tear slid down her cheek. She stared off at some point over his right shoulder as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Isabel, please.” He grabbed her wrists and held them. The sleek muscles in her forearms corded under his palms as she clenched her hands into fists.

“I do not want your pity.”

“I do not pity you, Isabel, but I do understand.”

“Get away from me.” She tried to step back from him.

“
Non
. You are so strong, so capable. But no one can be strong all the time. Nor does anyone expect you to be. Look at me.” He shook her until she looked up at him. “I am not going anywhere. You need this, whether you know it or not.”

“All I know is I have put up with your nonsense for far too long.” Her voice quavered, then steadily grew stronger. “You have countered my every command, disregarded my every wish. I will not tolerate any more interference. Release me or I will—”

“What, Isabel? What will you do?” He did not let go of her hands, and she finally stopped pulling away. “As much as you have tried to hide it, I have seen your fear, seen your grief. Trust me. Let me help you.” He released her.

She paced around the room with increasing agitation. “Trust you? How can you ask me to trust you when you have invaded every aspect of my life? Is my privacy yours to conquer in addition to my authority?”

“
Non
, it is not like—”

“What do you gain by turning my household against me?” she said without pausing. “I have seen the way they look at you. It is not fair! I have devoted my life to serving my people and earning their respect, and you suddenly appear and destroy everything. Just because you are a man does not mean—”

“Yes it does,” he cut her off, reminding himself not to lose his temper. “This is the world we live in. You are a woman and despite all your admirable skills and learning, a man, however inferior, will command greater authority. You will have to accustom yourself to such a life, my lady, for I doubt you will remain unmarried for much longer.”

Her eyes widened. “That is not your concern! And I will not have you speak of such things again, you hateful man!”

Under different circumstances, he might have laughed. “You do not hate me.” He knew all too well how much easier it was to be angry with him than acknowledge the hurt of her brother’s death. Or anything else, for that matter.

“Yes, I do! I hate the way you are always watching every move I make. I hate the way you can always make me angry. I hate the way you make me feel…” More tears slipped down her cheeks.

He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. He resisted the urge to pull her closer. “Isabel, I know you are suffering. Captain Thomas told me how close you and your brother were.”

“Curse you!” Isabel spun toward him. “You know nothing, despite your attempts to learn all there is to know about me and my family! Why am I so important to you?”

Alex froze. Dare he tell her William’s plans? After a moment’s hesitation, he dismissed the idea. She was still fresh with sorrow for her brother and not yet comfortable with him. It would be unfair to press the subject. She needed more time, but he found it increasingly difficult to keep the truth from her.

Isabel’s mouth hardened. She dropped her right hand to the hilt of her seax, and pointed the other to the door. “Leave me. I will not tell you again.”

He could disarm her eventually, he was sure of it, but he had well learned some battles were not worth the fight. He tipped his head toward her. “As you wish, my lady.”

11

As Isabel struggled to alertness, she prayed the events of the previous evening were naught but a dream.

Matilde stirred in a chair beside her. “My lady, Alexandre said you might have need of me when you woke.”

Isabel grimaced. He must have asked Matilde to watch over her. Despite her anger at his continuing interference in her affairs, his thoughtfulness still touched her.

She looked at Matilde and noted her unease. “What did he tell you?”

“Only that you were not feeling well. He said I should be here when you wake up.”

“I see.” Isabel raised her fingertips to her eyes. Still swollen. Perhaps a cold soak would help. She slowly sat up.

“My dear, what is wrong?”

Isabel sighed. “Julien is dead. Alexandre only told me of it last night.” She closed her eyes at Matilde’s gasp. “It is not a surprise, but…” Even though she could see no other outcome for her brother, she was still heart-sore to learn of his fate. “We must make preparations. For both Julien and my father. I will make the announcement at the feast.”

“Yes, my lady.” Unshed tears filled Matilde’s voice. “Is there aught I can do for you?”

“Nay. I thank you, Matilde.”

Matilde clasped Isabel’s hand in a warm, firm grip. “I am here if you have need of me.”

“I know.”

Matilde nodded and left the room.

Isabel willed herself to get dressed. That Alexandre had seen her tears… A fresh, hot wave of embarrassment rushed through her. She had wept for her brother, but unknown to the knight, also cried for her father. She had ignored the pain of losing him as much as possible, but last night she reached her breaking point.

Now, she wanted nothing more than to sink into bed and sleep away her memories, her responsibilities, as well as everything to do with Alexandre.

Most of the men had finished eating, and only a few faces were scattered around the room when she reached the main hall. Including Alexandre’s. Upon seeing her, he bounded out of his seat and strode over. Isabel felt a tinge of humiliation wash over her as he took her hands and peered into her face. How she wished she had the strength to pretend nothing was altered between them after last night.

“My lady, I confess I did not expect to see you so soon. How are you feeling?”

She forced herself to return the gaze, trying hard to keep him from seeing more than she wished. “Better than of late.” She tugged her hands out of his warm grip and glanced around the room. “I am looking for Matilde.”

“I believe she is assisting the cooks.”

“Yes, I should go help her,” she said, hoping he would realize she wanted to be left alone. She began to move away.

“My lady, allow me to suggest an alternative.” His voice called her back.

She stopped and inclined her head, waiting for him to speak.