Harlequin Historical February 2021--Box Set 1 of 2

by Virginia Heath

They stared at each other for a moment longer, neither backing down before a new voice broke their silence.

  ‘Good morrow, is everyone well?’

  They all turned to see Ralph coming towards them, allowing Isabel a little time to calm her jangled nerves.

  ‘Ah, if it’s not the hero of this saintly village,’ William Geraint muttered.

  She rolled her eyes. ‘What does that make you, messere? The villain?’

  ‘No, my lady.’ He leant towards her. ‘I would rather hope not.’

  She ignored him and smiled at her friend instead, grateful that he had come by when he had.

  The situation seemed hopeless now it was clear there was no way that William Geraint was going to leave St Jean de Cole without her. Isabel had to think of something. She had to find another way. Although the annoyingly handsome knight might not be a villain, he was still intent on taking her back to her father, back to her family. And the thought of that made her apprehensive.

  She remembered when she had pleaded with her father not to send her away from everything she had known and loved, how he had reprimanded her and scolded her for attempting to evade her familial duty. Despite her pleas he had sent her away all those years ago. Now, he wanted her back?

  Well, it was too late.

  * * *

  Will sighed and looked to the heavens.

  Oh, God give him strength! The woman was going to try to evade him again. She was going to continue her denial and frustrate his attempts of completing this damnable mission. And this time she would use the young man who had just joined them, judging by the pleading looks she had sent her friend.

  Why?

  The irony was not lost on Will that the woman whom he believed to be—no, knew to be—Lady Isabel de Clancey was reluctant to take up her birthright, unlike all the other pretenders he had contended with before. He had thought that if he were lucky enough to find the heiress, she would be happy and overjoyed at the opportunity to be finally reunited with her real family.

  Not so…

  There was something deeply troubling about Lady Isabel. On the one hand, he could understand that she might feel anxious and even a little resentful towards her family. After all, they had readily believed that she was dead, without any proper investigation. But then, with wars, separation and the Baron’s conflict that had plagued England during King John’s reign, it was no wonder that her family had given up on her. Will sighed as he studied Lady Isabel further.

  He had always been perceptive about people and was especially good at understanding them after careful observation. Their foibles, the little nuances, and the expression in their movement and conversation—all painted a picture about any given person. And more times than not, this always betrayed their inner fears, desires and thoughts. That was even before they started to speak candidly to him, which was another thing he was good at. Making people talk. Extremely useful when he was gathering information for William Marshal and the Crown.

  But with Isabel de Clancey, Will had no need to do any of that. It hadn’t been necessary. He knew immediately who she was, the moment he had danced with her at the feast. It was her eyes that had given her away. He hadn’t realised that he would recall how unusual they were, but as soon as he saw her, he remembered. He recalled how expressive her hazel eyes were and how one eye had a streak of dark brown across it, making each eye unique and beautiful.

  Her denial of who she was intrigued him, though. With closer observation Will realised that she was frightened about something, not necessarily of him, but certainly by the prospect of going home.

  This, he couldn’t understand. He had not even managed to relay the importance of why she was needed back in England, or the fact that she was now an heiress since her father and brothers were dead.

  Will had wanted to tell her, but their conversations had never moved beyond her repudiating who she was.

  Hell’s teeth, she was rattled and it worried him. He never wanted any woman to have this reaction in his company, but it was his mission to find her and to return her home. He would do it, yet he couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable about doing so.

  He gave himself a mental shake, reminding himself that this was not his problem. She was not his problem. Whatever Lady Isabel’s feelings, they were not his concern and he would do well to remember that. He had a job to do and he would see it through.

  But first Will had to thwart whatever scheme she was about to employ to elude him.

  * * *

  Later, in the dead of night, Isabel paced around the chamber that she shared with her sister on the top floor of the mill house. She heard the clink of a pebble against the wooden shutter.

  ‘Ralph? Is that you?’ Isabel opened the arched window in the small chamber. She had been waiting impatiently after gathering her meagre belongings and now the time to put her plan in motion had finally arrived. She would leave St Jean de Cole for a nearby village where she had friends and wait until William Geraint left for good. Only then would she return home. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was the best she could come up with, with only an afternoon to make arrangements.

  ‘Yes.’ She heard his whisper from outside and looked down to the ground below to see her friend waving at her. ‘I’m going to throw this rope up at you, Adela, and I want you to catch it. Make sure you secure it to something sturdy that will take your weight,’ he said.

  She nodded and leant out of the window.

  Ralph threw her the rope, but it failed to reach anywhere near the height it needed to. The second attempt fared better, but this time she floundered. However, the third attempt proved successful, as Ralph propelled the rope high enough for Isabel to grab on to it before it fell back down. She wound it around the brass handle of both sides of the coffer before tugging at it a few times to make sure it was secure. Then, with a heavy sigh, Isabel looked around the room and crept towards Heloise, who was fast asleep and snoring lightly.

  ‘I’ll come back soon,’ Isabel muttered, more to herself than her slumbering sister. A promissory oath that she hoped to God she could keep.

  She then grabbed her leather satchel, strode to the window sill, sat and swung her legs around so that they were suspended from the great height, then threw the satchel down. Clasping the rope tightly, Isabel curled her legs around it and let go of the security of the window sill. She started to climb down, but realised her descent wasn’t progressing as well as it should.

  Dear God, she felt she was about to plummet to the ground!

  What on earth was going on? Ralph didn’t seem to be holding the end of the rope and it was swinging around, frantically. As was she.

  ‘Ralph? For goodness sake, hold on to it firmly so I can get down. Ralph… Ralph?’

  Isabel heard his muffled voice from below. ‘Hold on. I won’t let you fall.’

  She didn’t dare look down. The rope was swinging round so much that Isabel found it increasingly difficult to get a proper footing on it to climb down safely.

  Oh, Lord, she really was going to fall! Her hands and feet were not gripping round the rope readily. And with the clammy moisture on her hands she slipped and tumbled down, descending with a thud…into a pair of very strong arms. She heard him take a huge intake of air with a humph.

  Poor Ralph. She hoped she hadn’t winded him. This physical exertion was really not good for his recovery.

  But, of course, it wasn’t Ralph who was holding on to her. It was another man, entirely…

  ‘Good evening, Lady Isabel.’

  Who else could it be other than William Geraint? The man positively plagued her!

  ‘What the devil are you doing?’ she hissed.

  ‘Catching you, my lady. And by and by, I must say how fortuitous it was that I looked up and saw you falling from the sky.’

  ‘Put me down, Sir William, if you please,’ she said, her patience wearing
thin.

  ‘Not yet, I first need to establish a few things with you…although we must stop meeting like this.’ His lips curled upwards while he carried her in his arms. ‘You do realise that people might talk.’

  Lord, but he was infuriating.

  ‘What have you done to Ralph?’ She crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to hold on to his neck or any other part of his large and honed anatomy.

  ‘Oh, he’s all right, I made an oath on my honour that you had nothing to fear from me, so he’s now on his way back to his pallet. But he might wake up with a sore head tomorrow.’

  ‘What? What did you do? I swear that if you have hurt him or done anything that may set his recovery back, I will…’ She covered her open mouth with her hand. ‘Oh, my God, what if he falls back into unconsciousness again?’

  William Geraint’s brows furrowed as he gazed down at her for moment. ‘Calm yourself, my lady, he isn’t unconscious but with a slight bump to the head. In any case, I wasn’t aware of his condition. It is curious, though, that you take such an interest in his well-being.’

  ‘Not that it’s of any concern of yours, but Ralph is a highly valued friend.’

  ‘Is he now?’ He raised his brow. ‘I’m wondering whether he may be the real reason for your reticence in going back home where you belong.’

  Oh, how her fingers itched to slap that smirk off his face.

  ‘If you must know, I helped the local wise woman tend to him after he was left for dead in the woods near here. So, yes, I take a great…great deal of interest in Ralph’s well-being,’ Isabel said, trying to hide her annoyance at his implication. She reminded herself again that she didn’t answer to this man.

  ‘So, you helped save another’s life just as I once saved yours? Interesting and, I must say, highly commendable.’

  This was not something she wished to discuss with anyone—her motives to learn about healing others.

  ‘Put me down, Sir William.’ She wriggled around in his arms so much that he dropped her unceremoniously to the ground.

  ‘Forgive me.’ His eyes sparkled with mild amusement. ‘I am only doing my duty and, as I said to you this morning, I am not the villain you take me for.’

  She smoothed down her skirts and stood up. ‘What, then? I suppose you think of yourself as the daring hero you once were?’

  The amusement faded from his eyes. ‘That remains to be seen, but for now you and I must talk about how we are to break through this impasse.’

  She shut her eyes momentarily, hoping that once she reopened them, she would be back in her warm bed and this would all be a dream. ‘That’s easy for you to say, Sir William, but you are not the one being forced to do something you have no desire to do.’

  She started to walk away, but he caught her arm. ‘Trust me, my lady, there have been many things in my life that I had no desire to do, but I was still duty bound to do them.’

  She tilted her head and studied him. What had he meant? There was definite anger and sadness in his words and Isabel wasn’t the type of person who would take satisfaction from anyone’s misery.

  Again, she wondered what had happened to William Geraint all this time? What had happened to make him so impervious, mocking and detached? Now and again, a glimmer of humour would flicker in his eyes, but it was so fleeting that she wondered whether she had imagined it.

  The man must have realised that he’d revealed something about himself that he hadn’t meant to. He let go of her and took a step back, looking away.

  Isabel watched him, allowing the silence to extend, before expelling a heavy sigh.

  ‘What now, Sir William?’ she said quietly. ‘I take it you will still insist on dragging me back to England?’

  ‘I’m afraid I must, my lady.’ He leant back, and crossed his arms.

  ‘Tell me, what have you to gain by this mission?’ She frowned. ‘But, oh…oh, how foolish of me. Of course, you’re getting coin for finding and taking me back, are you not, Sir William?’

  He looked slightly embarrassed. ‘I would be lying if I were to contradict you, but understand this, Lady Isabel. I had… I have always wondered what had happened to you.’ He moved a little closer to her and shrugged, reminding her of the boy who had rescued her. ‘And I had always prayed that you fared well, despite the terrible brutality of that night all those years ago.’

  As I did of you… she thought wistfully, meeting his gaze. The moonlight gave his eyes such a luminous clarity that Isabel felt herself staring for longer than necessary. Longer than she should.

  He coughed, clearing his throat. ‘But now that I have found you, and in good health, I find that I am puzzled by your refusal to acknowledge who you are.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Care to explain, my lady?’

  And just like that, the moment between them was broken.

  ‘Not especially, no.’

  ‘Every woman I found tried to convince me that they were Lady Isabel de Clancey, yet you did the opposite. Why?’

  ‘Has anyone ever told you how belligerent and annoying you are?’

  Sir William grinned, setting her teeth on edge. ‘Yes, quite a few. But you didn’t answer me. Tell me…please.’

  She opened her mouth to explain it all. Explain the conflicted emotions she felt regarding her real family. How she feared their disapproval and rejection…again. And also, the deep sense of trepidation and dread she felt in her bones about the prospect of going back home. Her eyes dropped to the pendant hanging around his neck. She frowned, trying to remember something from the past, but gave her head a shake. This was not William Geraint’s concern. Her feelings and her muddled memory were inexplicable, even to her.

  ‘I can’t,’ she whispered.

  He nodded, in apparent sympathy. ‘What you went through could not have been easy, my lady. I can understand that.’

  ‘You can?’

  ‘Yes, but think of your poor mother, after everything she has endured.’

  ‘What do you, mean?’ she said slowly. ‘What has my mother endured, Sir William?’

  ‘My lady, I…’ he said, dragging his fingers through his hair impatiently as he exhaled. ‘Please, let me escort you back to your mother.’

  Isabel stared blankly, her mind reeling.

  What had happened to her family? What had her docile and deferential mother endured all these years? Isabel had only considered her own feelings regarding everything that had happened. She had known from the day William Geraint had rescued her that she must do everything she could to survive. But she had never once thought that her family might have fared worse than her in the years since she had seen them. Her father might have been out of favour with King John, but that didn’t mean that anything had befallen her family…did it?

  Guilt suddenly coursed through her now as a long-ago abandoned emotion pulled inside her chest with such force that it both surprised and pained her.

  He was not telling her, but she could only guess. Her mother was alive, but what had happened to the rest of her family?

  She swallowed, looking at him, her eyes wide. ‘What has happened, Sir William?’ she whispered in the quiet of the night. ‘What has happened to them?’

  He couldn’t look her in the eyes, but she knew…she somehow knew what he was about to say. ‘I’m so sorry to be the one to have to tell you, my lady, but your father…your brothers…’

  ‘They’re dead…aren’t they?’ She sat on the small bench near the path, her unsteady legs unable to support her any longer.

  ‘I’m afraid so, my lady.’ He threw her an anxious look. ‘You are now the sole heiress of your family’s title, wealth and vast domain.’

  Isabel felt numb, void of any feelings. She searched her feelings and, while she felt regret, there was little more that she felt for the loss of her father…but her brothers?

  Oh, God…

  �
�This explains the necessity of my expedient return. Do you…do you know how they…?’

  ‘I don’t know about your brothers, but your father died by accident when he fell from his horse.’

  An accident?

  ‘I see.’

  Somehow, she had always been anticipating something as awful as this happening. But she had never thought her father or her brothers would be the ones to fall.

  Sir William sat beside her and covered her hand with his, giving it a squeeze of reassurance. ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ he said quietly.

  They sat beside each other for a long moment. The breeze whipped through the air and caused the leaves of her favourite oak tree to rustle and dance in the night sky.

  She broke the silence. ‘Thank you, by and by.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Saving my life. I have always meant to say that and now I can finally do so in person.’

  ‘You did by giving me this, remember?’ he said, wrapping his hand around the pendant and pulling it out from under his tunic.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered, ‘that I remember.’ Her memory of the pendants made her feel uneasy. It could be another reason why she had given something so precious to Will in gratitude all those years ago.

  He studied her for a moment. ‘What is it you’re afraid of, my lady?’

  ‘Everything.’

  ‘Well, I want you to know that I will protect you while we journey back. You have nothing to fear.’

  She blinked and looked back at the pendant around his neck. ‘Do you propose to save my life again?’

  ‘If I must. Who knows, you may end up saving me this time,’ he said with a ghost of a smile. ‘But know this, Lady Isabel, I shall be ready for any eventuality…as will you.’

  She wanted so much to believe him.

  There were too many things she just didn’t understand. Her memories from that time in her life were broken into bits that had to be pieced back together again, if she were to make sense of it.

  But for some inexplicable reason Isabel felt that, somehow, it had to do with the identical silver and ruby pendants…

  Her mother had told her that the pendant would bring her protection, so Isabel had chosen to give that to her rescuer. She had almost forgotten about its existence—until William Geraint’s sudden appearance back in her life.