Siege Of the Heart (8 page)

With the help of her superior mount and intimate knowledge of the forest, she led Alexandre and his men on a merry chase, through dormant thorn bushes and over fallen logs. She would have laughed every time one of their muffled curses floated within hearing if her shoulder did not pain her so much. She finally emerged from the woods and spurred her horse on. Hardwin kicked up clods of snow and easily outstripped Alexandre and his men.

In the bailey, she dismounted, spying Kendrick and Godric as they exited the stables.

“Isabel, my lady, you look well!” Kendrick exclaimed.

She clasped each of their hands in turn. “Where have you been?”

“Captain Thomas suggested we tend to the Welsh bodies and clear the site,” Kendrick said. “He also thought it best we get out from underfoot of our Norman visitors.”

“I am glad to see you feeling better, my lady,” Godric cut in.

Isabel nodded. “I thank you. I am still—”

“They are still here?” Kendrick dropped his hand to the hilt of his sword. “I thought they would leave once they learned of your father’s ties to Normandy.”

Her chest tightened at the suspicion in his voice. She turned around. Alexandre and the rest of his men streamed through the gates.

The Norman dismounted and strode over to her. “Perhaps you forgot your promise, my lady.” The Norman’s icy stare did not miss Kendrick’s defensive attitude or the protective stance he took in front of her.

“William is eager to renew his acquaintance with my father,” she explained in English to Kendrick softly. “He sent these men here to escort him to London.”

“And has your father returned?” Kendrick asked her without taking his eyes off Alexandre. Two more Normans now flanked the stormy-faced knight.

“No. The Normans will be staying here until he gets back. They have been...” she struggled for the right word, “well-mannered so far.”

“So far...” Kendrick echoed hollowly as Alexandre turned his unbearable stare on her.

Isabel pushed past Kendrick and returned to her horse’s side, head held high. Kendrick still had his hand on the hilt of his sword, and Godric was tense beside him. “Stand down,” she said firmly. Kendrick’s gaze flickered to her, and he reluctantly complied.

“My lady?” the Norman prompted. “I thought we had plans for today. And they did not include chasing you across the countryside.” He came to a stop next to her.

Isabel busied herself with her saddlebags and the collection of medicinal herbs she had stored there for the ride. “Oh yes…that. I decided my horse needed the exercise.”

Alexandre grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to face him. Her bundle of herbs scattered to the ground. He must have been too angry to see her wince in pain. Or the fact that Godric was barely able to keep Kendrick from attacking him.

The Norman held her in place as a stable boy hurried over to lead the horses away. The warmth of his hands sunk through her cloak. Her breath hitched. The sage-like smell of crushed yarrow leaves warred with the pungent odor of hyssop.

“I must insist you do not leave the castle grounds without my permission in the future,” Alexandre said. “It is too dangerous for you to wander off without an escort. You could have been hurt!” By now he was shouting, his deep voice attracting more onlookers.

“I assure you I am perfectly safe on my own lands. Although, if you are concerned, you could return my weapons. And you, sir, are the only one who is hurting me.” She looked meaningfully to his hand on her injured shoulder.

Alexandre immediately let go. “
Jesu!
I am sorry. Are you all right?”

Though ready to argue further, she remained silent as one of the servants gathered up the herbs and medicinal plants strewn across the ground. Alexandre watched her with concern. “I am fine,” she said slowly once the servant had retreated.

“I forgot your injury in my concern for your welfare. A thousand pardons, my lady.” He held out his arm. “We should get you inside so your shoulder can be tended.”

She wanted to protest, but nearly all the castle inhabitants were watching their interaction now. A public quarrel would just make things worse. He had done it again—made her feel like a fool.

She hesitated in taking his arm just long enough to let the man know she was not happy about being led inside like a child. As they headed to the stairs, Matilde found them. Isabel instructed her to fetch more bandages and meet her in her room.

She felt the Norman’s eyes on her as they walked to her chambers in silence. Alexandre waited for her to enter, and after a moment’s pause, he came inside as well, hovering near the door. She removed her mantle and flung it on her bed. A small amount of blood had soaked through her dress.

She saw his grimace at the rust-colored stain and took pity on him. “It opened when I remounted in the woods. It was not your fault.”

Alexandre looked at her for a moment, his ice blue eyes unreadable, before giving her a short nod. Matilde arrived moments later with two servants.

“It looks like you will be well tended, my lady. When you are through here, perhaps we can continue where we left off.” It was not a request.

“Impossible, I am afraid. I have left the running of the household to Matilde for too long.”

Alexandre studied her for a moment, silently challenging her. “
Très bien
. I look forward to seeing you at the evening meal.” He gave her a slight bow and mercifully left the room.

6

Captain Thomas met Isabel as she reached the high table. “I see you have heeded some of my advice,” he said as his gaze lingered on her gown.

For the meal, she had selected a soft green dress she trusted would remind all in attendance of her authority. The last time she had worn the kirtle trimmed with silk, she had successfully chased her latest suitor—all jowls and hair—away after tricking him into demonstrating his understanding of taxes in front of the other guests at the high table. The poor fool could not add or subtract. The guests’ uneasy laughter soon had him fleeing the room.

Somehow, despite her dress or her cleverness, she did not think Alexandre would be chased away so easily.

Nevertheless, she was proud of her composure even though her hall was filled with strange men who wanted to take her away from her home. She did not want to greet William the Bastard, who had thrown her world into turmoil. As soon as William realized she was on her own, he would marry her off without a care to her father’s wishes or her own. She could not let that happen.

She gave Captain Thomas a rueful smile. “If only the rest of my flaws were so easy to change as my clothes.”

“Now, now. You are twisting my words.”

“If I cannot tease you, then this meal will be most tedious indeed.” She took her place in the central seat with Alexandre and Captain Thomas flanking her. The rest of the men and women took their seats, and the meal was served.

Captain Thomas shook his head as he surveyed the room. “You placed all of Alexandre’s men at the lower tables, hmm? I did not realize you wanted to command all of his attention.”

Isabel grew hot, and it was not because of all the bodies gathered in her father’s hall. “I intended no such thing! Indeed, I did it to make him uncomfortable since he would have no one to talk to.”

Captain Thomas chuckled. “My dear, you would be wise to not provoke him so. You have clearly captured his interest,” he said with a brief glance at the Norman looming beside her. “And he will expect your attention over the course of the meal.”

“Then you must simply keep me engaged in conversation.”

He sighed. “I fear I have spoiled you.” But he gamely talked to her about the training of the men and other household activities that had occurred during her illness.

When Matilde checked on the high table for the third time, Isabel called the older woman to her side. “Everyone is enjoying the meal. Please rest and find someplace to enjoy it yourself,” she said severely. Matilde opened her mouth to protest but Isabel stopped her and spoke in a softer tone, “Promise me.”

“As you wish.” Matilde gave a stiff curtsy before she headed toward the lower tables.

“You should be kinder to her, my lady. You had her so worried,” Captain Thomas said after Matilde left.

Before Isabel had a chance to respond to his admonishments, Alexandre’s shadow fell over her. “What did you say to Matilde? She seemed upset,” he said in French.

She had spoken sharply to Matilde out of concern, not anger. No doubt Alexandre misunderstood the exchange since he had no understanding of English. “I bid her to eat something. There are more than enough servants to administer the meal. She makes more work for herself than is required.”

Isabel turned toward Captain Thomas, but Alexandre drew her back with a warm hand on her elbow. “I also wonder why you speak with Captain Thomas so long.”

She bit down on her lip, reminding herself to remain civil. “He is my father’s advisor. There is much to discuss.” She thought she made it clear she was not interested in speaking with him. Captain Thomas’s words came back to her. This was her fault since she made all his men sit elsewhere. She would not feel sorry for him. He could not expect her to be happy to have him as a guest.

“Why is he not with your father?”

“At the time, Captain Thomas was of better service here.” Tired of Alexandre’s probing questions, she tried to recapture Captain Thomas’s attention, but he was suddenly in deep conversation with the man sitting next to him.

“Surely you would have been of better service here as well,” Alexandre said, his voice impossibly close to her ear. Isabel stiffened. Captain Thomas saw her predicament and laughed. Alexandre leaned toward her once more. “What is so amusing?”

She faced him and was startled at how close he was. So close she could not concentrate on his face—just pieces of it. The small scar on his chin, his strong nose, his blue eyes… His gaze darkened, daring her to ignore him again.

She cleared her throat. “If you are so interested, why do you not ask him yourself?”

“You know very well I cannot.”

“Indeed?” Isabel smiled very sweetly at him before turning to Captain Thomas and asking him in French, “Would you please tell this Norman oaf what it is you find so amusing?”

Captain Thomas looked from Isabel to the puzzled Alexandre. Isabel nodded for him to speak. “The lady does not like you,” he said simply to the knight in serviceable French. “And I have no desire to be caught between the two of you, as she well knows.”

Isabel tried to hide her amusement as the Norman processed Captain Thomas’s words. Alexandre tightened his hold on his eating dagger and sudden tenseness squared his shoulders.

The knight sent her a sharp look but nonetheless feigned his good-natured reply. “That may be true, but she has the whole trip to London to know me.” She nearly scoffed at his proprietary tone.

Captain Thomas laughed and said with a shrug, “As you say, lad. As you say,” before he resumed his conversation with his neighbor.

People were finishing up with their meals. Isabel hardly touched her trencher, having long lost her appetite. She took a last sip of wine before she made her excuses. She was almost out of the hall, when she heard someone behind her. Alexandre, no doubt.

She refused to slow her pace or give any indication she knew he followed her. Their little trick had probably upset him. However, it had been a wise decision for Captain Thomas to command everyone to speak only English in her absence, and she refused to apologize for it.

She entered the hallway, readying herself for the coming argument. He would tell her how disappointed he was. She would explain how—

A hand grabbed her uninjured arm. Alexandre pulled her back and forced her against the wall. Her breath left her in a rush.

He put a calloused hand against her mouth and held her effortlessly immobile. Talking seemed like the last thing he wanted to do. He was angry. She saw the tightness in his jaw, the flash in his startling blue eyes. He wanted to hurt her, she realized, but he was too honorable to do so.

They stood there, scowling at one another, until a lute player began a cheerful tune in the main hall. Alexandre finally removed his hand from her mouth.

“Release me at once, you dog,” she said without heat. She did not bother to struggle or scream in protest. She would not give him the satisfaction. Nor did she want to risk injuring her arm again.