Siege Of the Heart (26 page)

“How were we supposed to know what she wanted? She sounds like a pig with all her grunting,” the shorter one said.

The taller of the two took a step toward her. “Nothing like your dulcet voice.”

“You knew she was upset. You should not have treated her so poorly.”

He leaned forward like a dog tied to a rope. “She needed to be taught respect.” His scabbed-over cut contorted as he spoke.

The shorter one held up a hand. “No one gets in without our say so.”

Isabel shook her head. “You can still do your duty without attacking the defenseless.”

The tall soldier scoffed. “What would you know?”

Isabel stepped in front of the still-sniveling Englishwoman. “I know William ordered you to use restraint against women and children. And you have done the opposite.”

The soldier lunged forward and grabbed her, slammed her up against the wooden wall. Someone screamed. More townspeople gathered on the street, their attention riveted on Isabel’s confrontation with the Norman soldier.

“Bitch, you should know when to keep quiet.”

Her hand went to her waist, but there was nothing to grab. Her sword and seax were still in her room. Dread filled her as she remembered Alex’s request to leave her weapons behind.

A feral grin stretched across the soldier’s face. “Who do you think you are, telling us what to do?” His gaze slid over her. “You are just some dressed-up camp follower.”

“I am daughter to Lord Bernard Dumont of Lisieux, and you will unhand me this minute!”

The man chuckled and tightened his grip, sinking his fingers painfully into her shoulders. “A Norman? You speak English. You wear these fancy trinkets.” He fingered her mother’s brooches. He may as well have been touching her skin. He leaned closer. “I bet you even taste English.” His gaze locked on her lips. “But I suppose I have to get used to the women here sometime.”

Isabel spit in his face. As he wiped the spittle from his cheek, she kicked at his legs and used the distraction to twist out of his hold.

She took a step, mayhap two, before he lunged at her and knocked her to the ground. His heavy weight came crashing down beside her. More screaming rent the air. She struggled to breathe as the brute clawed his way up her legs to pinion her.

How she wished she had her weapons with her. She would run him through without a second thought.

Isabel kicked out, and one of her feet caught him on the chin. He barked in pain. She readied herself to stand, but he pulled her back.

The brute raised his fist to strike. Isabel flinched, helpless. However, the blow did not fall.

Suddenly the fiend was crying out in pain. Alex had caught the man’s hand and twisted it behind his back. He gave the arm a hard yank. “What have you done?” Alex’s face was tight with fury and some other emotion she did not recognize. “This woman is a lady under my protection, and she is not to be trifled with.”

With another twist, Alex released the man and moved to Isabel’s side, helped her to her feet. He ranged his hands over her to ensure she was unhurt.

The brute grabbed Alex’s arm. “She’s no lady, this one. I was merely teaching her manners.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but Alex gave her a warning look before he stepped protectively in front of her and punched the other Norman squarely in the face. The man fell back and hit his head against the wall, going quiet.

The other soldier stood at attention when Alex’s gaze fell over him. “Who do you report to?”

“Captain Everard, sir.”

Alex gave him a tight nod. “I will be informing him of this incident.”

The man ducked his head deferentially. “I understand.”

The young Englishwoman clutched Isabel’s arm. She had almost forgotten her in the scuffle. “My lady, are you well? I am so sorry.”

“I am fine—”

“Mama, mama!” A young boy ran up to the Englishwoman, Captain Thomas and Hugh trotting after him.

The woman gathered the towheaded boy into her arms. “My dear! Never do that again.”

Isabel shook the dirt from her dress. “Where was he?”

Hugh’s mouth curled with disgust. “He was asleep in one of the stalls.”

The dark look had not left Alex’s face. “Come.” He tugged Isabel through the gates and into the bailey. The woman shouted her thanks after them.

They reached her room in silence. Alex turned to Averill, who had followed them into the castle. “Please fetch some wine for Lady Isabel.”

The serving girl curtseyed, and Alex waited for the door to close then smoothed the hair away from Isabel’s face. Still cupping her cheek, he asked, “Did he hurt you?”

“He tried,” she said, avoiding his earnest gaze.

He led her over to a chair. “What happened?”

“The guards were giving that woman a difficult time for asking them to help her find her son.”

“And you decided to intervene.”

She could not decide if there was censure in his tone or not. “Yes. I would not stand by and let them ridicule her,” she said, thinking of Hugh’s inaction.

“Very well. I will speak with Captain Everard. Hopefully we can avoid situations like this in the future.”

If all of William’s soldiers were like the men she met today, she doubted that very much.

“Any injuries?”

She grimaced. “Bruises, mostly.”

“What about your hands?” He grabbed the washbasin and a spare cloth and knelt before her. He gently took her hand and began cleaning it off. The soothing ministrations calmed her heartbeat, which still rioted in her chest.

“When I think about what he could have done, if I had not gotten there in time… Captain Thomas told me what happened, and…” he trailed off, watching her face as tears threatened. “Isabel, what is it?”

She blinked and breathed deep. “I am but shaken.”

“Isabel, I swear I will never let another man lay a hand on you.”

“Alex, I have lived long in the world of men. This is not the first incident…”

“What do you mean? There have been other times?”

The alarm in his voice surprised her. “Yes, one.” Seeing Alex start, she forestalled him. “I got away with my virtue intact, if that is what you are worried about.”

“I am relieved you were unhurt, but I would know what happened,” he said with a hard edge to his voice.

“So Matilde did not tell you everything?”

“Isabel…”

She sighed. She could put him off no longer. “My father wanted me to marry. Three summers ago, we traveled with the court in the hopes I would take interest in one of the young nobles. Even though my father would abide by my rights as an Englishwoman to choose my husband, he wanted to increase the odds I would find someone suitable. In the end, my father’s plan worked, perhaps too well,” she said with a shake of her head. “A lord from Northumbria was particularly strong in his courting. After supper one evening, he insisted on escorting me to my chamber, and I foolishly agreed. We ended up near the servant quarters.”

She turned away from Alex’s gaze. “It was dark, and…he tried to touch me. I was able to hold him off long enough for Kendrick to find us. Fortunately I had my seax, and I take comfort in the fact his face will never look the same.” She realized she had fisted her hands in her skirt and took a moment to smooth the tight blue wool. She finally looked up at Alex. “After that, my father seemed content with my staying in Ashdown for the rest of the summer.”

“I can imagine.”

“Since that incident, I have always carried my sword and seax. I refuse to be caught unprepared again.”

Alex set aside the towel and stood. “When I told you to leave your weapons in your room, I did not intend to leave you defenseless. I only hoped to make you less intriguing to my comrades. They might not be as understanding as my men. If I had known this would be the result…” Alex ran a hand through his hair. “Why did you not tell me this before?”

“And give you a reason to find me unfit? You have done all you could to discredit my leadership by suggesting I cannot take care of myself or my people. How could I protest?”

“Isabel, that is not what I—”

With a knock, Averill returned with a flagon of wine.

Alex stepped away from Isabel. “The evening feast will be starting soon. Are you well enough to attend?”

She shifted in her seat and winced at the stiffness of her body. “I will stay here.”

“Are you sure?
Non
, you must be. I do not blame you. I must go, but I will bid one of the servants bring you up a tray. I will check on you in the morning.”

“I will be fine.”

“As I said, I will see you in the morning. I will not leave your side tomorrow.”

“That will not be necessary.”

“Yes, but where else would I rather be?”

Isabel could not hide her flustered state. She still did not know what to make of him. “I am sure I do not know,” she answered primly.

He gave her a sharp look. “Yes, you do.
Bonsoir
.”

* * * *

Smoke and madness.

That was all Alex knew as he fought his way out of the abbey. Angry shouts grew in volume. William was somewhere ahead of him, pushing through the crush of Norman soldiers. Flames swallowed a groaning building across the street.

One minute he and his countrymen were cheering at the sight of the English crown upon William’s head. Then he would have sworn they were under attack, given the screams and shouts that filtered into the chamber.

The London townsfolk had gathered in huge numbers on the street outside Westminster before the ceremony—to gawk or protest, he did not know. More men had to be stationed outside to keep the peace. Now, though, there was only chaos.

Alex found Hugh on horseback, trying to hold back the seething tide of Englishmen. He worked his way through the crowd.

“What happened?”

Hugh glanced down at him. “We heard screams inside the abbey. Thought we were under attack.”

“What?
Non.
We were only celebrating our new king.”

Hugh turned his head and looked at Alex in disbelief. “That was a celebration?”

Alex peered between the jostling bodies and saw William holding out his hands for his men to cease their attack. The crowd gradually calmed, but by now, the fire had spread. William instructed some of his men to assist the English in putting out the fire before returning to the abbey to complete the ceremony.

Afterward, Alex surveyed the damage to the homes and shops lining the street. The acrid tang of smoke and soot lingered in the air. He did not understand why the men stationed outside had decided to set the nearby buildings on fire when they heard the shouts coming from inside the abbey. A stupid, senseless act. And one that further eroded any chance of earning the English people’s respect.

When he returned to William’s headquarters, he spied Isabel pacing in the bailey, a worried look on her face. Word of the confrontation must have spread. He had asked her not to leave the castle grounds today because he did not want to risk her getting caught up in another misunderstanding between the Normans and the English people. Tensions on the streets had escalated as the crowning ceremony drew near. She had reluctantly agreed. He was surprised she had conceded so easily, but he was not blind to the distrust her countrymen had with a woman so favored by the Normans.

She brightened when she saw him and trotted over as soon as he passed through the gates. “What happened? I heard terrible things.” She fell into step next to him.

“A misunderstanding between the Normans and the English townspeople during the ceremony. But worry not. The fire finally burned itself out. Thankfully most of the townsfolk got out of the way in time.”

“Do they need help tending the injured?” she asked.

He grimaced. “I do not think so. Those who did not escape the fire will not need the type of care you can provide.”

She looked down at her hands. “Oh, I see.”

Alex did not know how to dispel the dark look on her face. “It was unfortunate, to be sure,” he said as they entered the castle. “And this will not be the last instance of violence between our people. There has been too much loss, and anger has taken the place of grief.”