Love Never Lies (40 page)

And now, thanks to Nicola’s untimely arrival, she might never hear them. A knight’s honor took precedence over everything. ‘Twould prevent him from revealing his heart, if in fact there were anything in it to reveal.

Mayhap Nicola was right.

If he loved her, why had he not come to speak with her and explain himself? Why had he given in so easily to Nicola’s demands? Barak’s trickery was grounds enough to call off the bargain. He had held her accountable for Uncle Royce’s sins. Why not hold Nicola accountable for Barak’s treachery? Unless, he had changed his mind—thought twice about marrying into the family of the enemy?

In that case, he could not have loved her in the first place, and ‘twas as Nicola said. He had simply given up on gaining the ransom and decided to marry her instead.

Whatever his reasons, in the days that followed, he gave no sign of weakening his stand, though Isabeau had little contact with him to observe it if he did.

Most of her time was spent at Nicola’s beck and call, keeping her company and making her comfortable since Mildred had decreed she must not, under any circumstances, leave her bed until the babe was safely delivered.

Word had been sent to Curran at Lowglen, but there was no telling whether he would arrive in time for the birthing, something Nicola constantly fretted over. After losing one babe, she wished her husband at her side should aught go amiss.

Isabeau did her best to reassure her, but having little experience to draw
on,
her words of comfort lacked the credence she wished.

As she headed down the hall with a basket of freshly laundered sheets for Nicola’s bed, it struck her that the answer to her problem was quite simple. If there were no ransom, there could be no exchange. Nicola would have done her duty and Alec’s honor would remain intact.

There was only one problem.

To arrange for the ransom to go missing, she must find it.

It could be anywhere—stuffed in a hollow log, under a rock or a haystack. ‘Twould be impossible to locate without some clue. Nicola had not breathed a word of where she had hidden it, and would not knowingly give it up. She was determined to rescue Isabeau at all cost, whether she wished to be rescued or not.

Isabeau was so intent on her own
thoughts,
she nearly collided with Myrtle coming the other way down the corridor.

 
“You’re needed in the hall, my lady.”

The sound of Myrtle’s voice brought her up short, causing her to blink. “Needed?
Now?”
Her heart began to tap. Had Alec relented, or at the very least condescended to grant her an explanation for his cold behavior.

“Lord Beaufort has taken it upon himself to invite Lady Anna and her sire to partake of the eventide meal. He met them on the way here, he did. They were hawking by the river, or some such thing. You’d think it be his hall,” she muttered under her breath. “The way that great oaf issues orders. ‘Tis nigh time he married again. ‘Twould put an end to his meddling in other’s affairs.”

“Lord Beaufort was married?” Isabeau attempted to envision Beaufort as a husband. His virtues were many—strength, loyalty, a steady and good tempered nature. He would certainly make a fine husband, if a wife could keep him home long enough to know him.

Myrtle bobbed her head in assurance.
“Died while he was on that crusade.
I’ve heard him speak of it to his Lordship, not often mind, but once or twice when he was well into his cups.” Myrtle turned to go, throwing over her shoulder. “Speaking of cups, you best hurry. There be many needs filling, and I’ve only one pair of hands.”

“But, what of Gwen?
Is she ill?”

Myrtle stopped and turned, the furrows in her forehead displaying her discontent.
“Yea, ill at heart since his Lordship dismissed her.
Sent her packing to the village afore he marched off to the river this morn.”

 
Isabeau expelled a gasp as she stared at Myrtle’s retreating back. He expected her to shoulder the burden of running his hall, yet would not condescend to speak to her. Myrtle, though a priceless asset, was getting on in years and if forced to continue at such a pace would no doubt drop in her tracks.

Well!

He would just have to fetch Gwen back, at least until a suitable replacement could be found. What was he thinking? The hall could not run smoothly with so few hands. Did he expect her to serve at his table, give Nicola the back rub she promised, and bring her her supper, all at once?

By the time Isabeau caught up with Alec in the hall her breath was coming hard and fast.

After cleaning the upstairs chamber all
morn
, as well as listening to Nicola’s complaints, not to mention her constant threats that she would leave her bed and march down to the bathhouse if she was not allowed a proper soak in a tub, Isabeau was in no mood to quibble.

But she was not prepared for what the sight of him would do to her.

After barely catching a glimpse of him in two days, standing mere paces away from his powerful body, feeling the heat in his deep blue gaze, set her off balance.

It took her a long moment to collect
herself—
to remember why she had sought him out in the first place. When she did, her words spilled forth in a gush of reaction, “Myrtle tells me you’ve dismissed Gwen. Why?”

“It pleased me to do so.”

Her heart clutched at his cool tone, but pride bade her to answer just as coolly. “Mayhap ‘twould please you to wait upon your guests as well. Myrtle and I are stretched beyond our limits.”

“Your sister relies too much on your charity,” he told her in the same dispassionate tone. “She’s with child not gasping for her last breath. She’ll survive for a few hours without you.”

“That may be true, but what of the morrow?” She understood his rancor toward Nicola, but found it hard to swallow that he cared naught if she collapsed from exhaustion. Unless that was his plan, to squeeze a drop of blood out of her for every insult Nicola had ever uttered toward him.

“More help will be provided.”

 
“How?
There are no unwed maids in the village old enough to serve in the hall, and all of the men are occupied at the river helping to build your ships.”

“I’ll send William to Gilling’s Cross for someone.”

“When?
Before Myrtle collapses in a heap clutching her heart I do hope.”

“On the morrow.”
He showed no sign that he was in the least vexed. “In the meantime, you’ll just have to make do. I can do no more than that.”

Her voice rose in frustration. “You can tell William to fetch Gwen back. Better yet,” she said, without taking time to draw breath, “I’ll tell him.” She turned on her heel, prepared to search the courtyard from chapel to stable and every building in between until she found his squire.

He captured her by the arm to draw her back. “Nay, you will not.”

She quivered under the heat of his hand.

For a moment she thought he might draw her into his arms, and despite her anger, found
herself
wishing he would, if only to prove that she had not imagined his affection for her and prove to everyone in the hall, including his neighbors, she held some claim, however small, to his heart. When it failed to happen, disappointment turned her voice sharp. “Why dismiss Gwen? What do you have against her?”

“Let’s just say,” he said, releasing her arm. “She wasn’t living up to my expectations.”

 
“How can that be? Gwen is a very hard worker.”

 
“But not a loyal one I think.”

“What? I’ve never known her to steal or lie, which is more than I can say for half of the serfs in the kitchen. Have you a witness who’ll back up this false claim?”

“As a matter of fact I do.”

“Who?”

“You, my lady.”

“What?” Her jaw went slack. “
I’ve accused
her of naught, nor would I. Gwen is as loyal as William, as loyal as your best hound. She’s humble and very grateful for her position here. If this is about the message her cousin delivered to Barak at the tournament, you should take that up with Lady Anna.
‘Tis nothing to do with Gwen.”

His eyes narrowed, leading her to believe ‘twas the first time it had reached his ears.

She wished she could take the words back, but it was too late for that. His mouth flattened. “Then she has more than one family member to atone for.” He reached into his pocket, pulling forth the ruby amulet. “Unless you’re going to tell me you misplaced this and Gwen’s sister Biddy just happened upon it on her way out the door.”

Isabeau stared at the amulet, dangling from the chain in his hand.

Rot!

She had not counted on Nicola giving it back to him. “’Tis true,” she finally admitted. “Biddy helped me, but it has nothing to do with Gwen.
Or Biddy, for that matter.
I enticed her to do it—promising a favorable position when she reached Lowglen.”

“And you expect me to believe Gwen didn’t know what her sister was up to.”

“Nay she did not. I swore Biddy to secrecy.”

An incredulous laugh burst from his lips.
“Biddy?
Surely you jest. She doesn’t know the meaning of the word. By now all of Northumberland must know of your plight.”

She sent forth a huff, stamping her foot in exasperation. “Why must you be so stubborn? You hold Gwen responsible for Biddy’s actions, yet you fail to hold Nicola responsible for Barak’s treachery.”

His features sobered. “I can’t in good conscience hold your family accountable, when he acted against your uncle’s wishes. When a messenger turns thief, ‘tis hardly the senders fault.”

Or was it that in the end he realized the ransom was all he ever cared about? She wanted to ask, but the words stuck in her throat.

Instead she turned away, her heart clutching painfully.

Tears blurred her eyes as she crossed the length of the hall, head held high, back straight, as Beaufort’s voice raised in good spirits at the high table drifted past her.

By the time she reached the kitchen to collect the platters of food to serve Fortin’s guests, the pain in her heart had turned the rest of her body numb.

Voices swirled around her, turning to a hum in her ears.

Beaufort smiled at her from his perch at the high table, between Lady Anna and her sire, who was busy regaling them with tales of their
hawking
exploits that morn.

Isabeau nodded absently in return, barely noticing.

She was so distracted she almost collided with Myrtle on her way back to the kitchen. Had Myrtle not stepped to the side as hastily as she did, they would have both been wearing parsnips the remainder of the eventide.

“Ye best slow down and take a breath,” Myrtle expelled, readjusting the heaping platter in her hands. “Your sister’s not going anywhere. She
be
well and resting comfortably. There’s no danger to her or the babe, as long as she stays put and gets the rest she needs.”

“Many thanks, Myrtle.” Isabeau laid a hand on her arm. “I appreciate all that you’ve done for her.”

“You can thank his lordship for that. He sent for me straight away then helped me and William get her settled. The draught I gave her should see her sleeping through the night. She’ll be fit as a fiddle in a few days.”

Isabeau nodded then continued on to the kitchen, hoping Nicola’s opinions mended along with her body.