by Wend Petzler
Watching her men, she realized tension remained, despite yesterday's battle. The men in black refused to associate with Drago's men, snubbing them at every chance. Once supper was over and the tables cleared, a chess game between Leo and Brandon commenced, drawing Nicolas’ attention, giving her the opportunity to talk to her Archangels. “I have matters which need be attended to. I won't be long."
Nodding absently, his attention returned to the game, not seeing her exit the Keep. Not bothering to gather a cloak, the night air uncommonly warm, she waited for Michael and Gabriel who arrived shortly afterward. They headed up the stairs to the ramparts, away from the guards patrolling the wall. Facing her men, her insides lurched at the worry in their eyes. More trouble, she thought resentfully and crossed her arms, gazing pensively out at the dark fields.
"Report on the ambush,” Isabella commanded tonelessly.
Gabriel was the first to speak. His right hand gripped the hilt of his sword tight, knuckles white. “The ambush was for Drago. The attackers attempted to separate him from his men, not expecting the Black Knights to encircle our baron. I believe Drago was to be killed, opening the way for Alden to marry you.” Anger seethed inside Gabriel. Why could not Alden let them live in peace?
"Recommendations?” Isabella inquired in a voice resigned to her fate when earlier she was cheerful and vibrant.
Michael laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. He could not help thinking Isabella's shoulders too slender to bear so much responsibility, though she never complained or shirked her duties to Blood Keep. “We need the Demon Lord. He must publicly unite with Drago for our knights’ sake, and to show our enemy we are invincible."
"A public demonstration?” Isabella turned to see the unhappy faces of her friends. They nodded in unison. She smiled sadly as she ran her hands over the soft material of her gown. “My gown really is pretty, is it not?” Emerald eyes hardened with resolve as she squared her shoulders, accepting her duty. “A challenge to be settled before the tournament?” Isabella waited for their opinion.
Gabriel had an idea. “Drago says you are leaving in the morning for London?” At her nod, “It gives us plenty of time to prepare. It's been very difficult to maintain order. Many of our men desire to call out Drago's as it is."
"Which of Drago's men cause the most trouble?"
Michael ruefully scratched his chin. “The one who constantly disturbs the peace is Darwin.” He glanced at Gabriel who agreed.
"Darwin is a monster! Hell, it's like sending David to face Goliath all over again.” Isabella glared at the two men who shrugged their broad shoulders, grinning at her disbelief.
"Ah, come on Bella. The Demon Lord has taken on better men. It'll be a piece of cake.” Gabriel laughed, making a face at Michael who punched him hard in the arm.
Eyes the color of ebony searched uncertain emerald ones, Michael asked her softly, “Can the Demon do it?"
Resigned, Isabella turned away. “Yea, I believe he can. Inform the men I will bring the Demon Lord home when I return from London."
"We'll see to it,” Michael solemnly replied.
Concerned, Gabriel asked, “I heard Alden was reinstated back to court. Watch your back,” he warned, worried about Isabella being so close quartered with their enemy.
"Worry not about my safety, Edward always sees to my protection. You, two, need to be especially careful and alert at all times. An attack might be in the works while Drago and I are gone.” Isabella watched the clouds float across the waning moon.
"We shall protect the Keep with our lives. Will you return inside?” Michael asked, worried by her melancholy.
"Soon. I just need a moment alone.” A sharp sense of loss assaulted her. Mentally shaking it off, she knew her duty to her people, and if the Demon was required to maintain the peace, then so be it.
The next morning Isabella came to the quick conclusion she was in hell. Alison was the devil and she was in hell. The last of the dresses arrived early and Sumner had Isabella try on each gown, ensuring they fit properly. Alison was quite verbal about her opinion, ordering the tailor to make repairs when she found a fault with a gown, personally overseeing the corrections.
Watching the young woman work, it struck Isabella suddenly that the way Alison moved and talked were all of a noblewoman. Needing Alison's expertise in the midst of the cruel, arrogant people attending the English court, she drew the girl to the side. “I have a dilemma. I wish to make my husband proud of me, but I am not well versed in the rules of nobility. Will you come with me to London?"
Alison's excitement faded to distress. “I would love to attend you at court, but who will watch over my son while I am gone?” Excitement turned to fear when she realized she'd be in the same city as her lover. Would it jeopardize her mission?
Gabriel walked into the chamber, catching their conversation and offered a solution. “I'll take care of the lad. Allen is in the safest place imaginable with me as his personal Black Knight.” Gabriel grinned, hoping the jest would bring a smile to the somber woman. On numerous occasions since Alison and her son had arrived, he had tried to break through the invisible barrier she erected around herself. Charm and wit were his specialty with women, except Alison appeared unusually immune and it stumped it him.
Alison was surprised. They knew her not, and yet they went out of their way to be kind to her. Guilt assaulted her. Why did Isabella have to be so kind? Why did the warmth of Gabriel's smile melt her heart, making her feel as if she was the only woman on earth for him? Swallowing the lump in her throat, Alison took the fatal plunge. Hesitant to say his beautiful name, Alison asked, “Sir Gabriel, are you sure it would be no bother to watch Allen?"
The way Alison said his name was a bittersweet caress. Clearing his throat, “It would be my pleasure, madam.” Catching Isabella's arched look, he bowed before hastening from the chamber before she teased him.
"Lady Isabella, if you wish me to come to London, I shall.” Blushing, Alison turned and smiled shyly at Isabella.
Isabella clapped her hands together, relieved. “Wonderful! Go and see to your son while I get my things in order.” When Alison failed to move, she inquired, “Is something wrong?"
Recovering, Alison bobbed a curtsy. “I will return shortly.” She rushed from the chamber, passing Baron Drago along the way, keeping her head down.
Exasperated by the delay, the day getting late, he wished to be on the road. “Isabella, are you ready?"
"We need only wait for my maid. Is Lucifer ready?” she asked, preparing to don her customary outfit when Nicolas stayed her.
"Isabella, you will ride in the carriage.” The great Red Dragon swallowed nervously as emerald eyes narrowed ominously, Isabella's soft lips pinched in a flat line. “It is time the world sees you as a lady. You will do as I command.” Apprehensive, he prepared for a heated argument.
Wanting to scream all the words she really wanted to say about how she felt about his idea, Isabella jerked her head curtly instead. “I wish to dress. My trunks are ready to be taken down to the cart.” Her voice gravelly, she strove to maintain a peaceful composure when all she wanted to do was break his face.
Lifting the heavy trunk as if it weighed little, he exited the room thankful Isabella obeyed without a fight. Once outside the castle, he deposited his load and breathed the fresh air in, thankful. Michael leaned against the carriage wearing an amused look on his swarthy face.
"What?” Nicolas demanded of the silent man.
Michael started to laugh heartily. It struck Nicolas the dark knight had sent him to Isabella, knowing full well blood might be drawn. His blood! Scowling fiercely at Michael, “You knew there was a chance she might hurt me, didn't you?"
"I apologize, my lord. You see, she respects you. Isabella would not think twice to flay my hide with her waspish tongue. I knew you were safe.” Michael clapped Nicolas roughly on the back, grinning.
The men did not have long to wait when Isabella walked stiffly down the steps, a heavy cloak thro
wn over her shoulders against the chilled morning air. Isabella refused Nicolas’ hand, stepping inside the carriage followed by Alison who wore a similar cloak. Isabella stared stone-faced out the small, square window. Having never traveled in a carriage before, the overwhelming feeling that the walls were closing in on Isabella nearly sent her fleeing in a panic. To top her anxiety was the vulnerability she felt by wearing a dress and not having her sword with her. Otto had placed it in a safe place until Isabella returned home. For the first time in her life, Isabella was not in control. Her husband was.
Placing his foot in the stirrup, Nicolas swung up on his stallion's back. Saluting Gabriel and Michael, he urged his horse forward, leading the way to London with his own knights following behind the carriage.
Gabriel scowled unhappily at Michael. “Why did you not send any of our men with Isabella?"
Breathing a heavy sigh, “I allowed Drago's men to accompany Isabella feeling one of his knights may have much to gain by spying on us. Our enemy has someone inside in Blood Keep. While they are gone we will have the Demon Lord make an occasional appearance, hopefully confusing our enemy. Besides, the great Drago will never allow anyone to harm Isabella.
Doubtful, Gabriel looked askance at him. “How can you be so sure?"
"Because he loves her as much as we do."
Seeing wisdom in his plan, Gabriel was hard pressed to hold back a chuckle. “You do realize Drago will be miserable with Isabella so pissed off?"
Michael threw his head back, laughing heartily. “I hope Isabella gives him hell!"
"You are a very wicked man, Michael!” Gabriel laughed as he walked down the steps to the sad little boy left in his care. Tousling Allen's flaxen hair, “Come, we have chores needing to be done."
Michael watched the two walk toward the stables. One could mistake the pair as father and son, he mused. Shaking his head at such out of place thoughts, he must be getting old for the thoughts of family were replacing ones of battle lately.
* * * *
They traveled three days before Isabella said one word to her husband. Nicolas supposed he was lucky by her silence. However, he missed her smoky voice and rich laughter. They pushed hard, hoping the cloudy weather would hold. Late on the third afternoon, the heavens let loose a barrage of rain and sleet. Nicolas called for a halt at an inn, horses and riders exhausted. Weary, he dismounted, making his way through the muck and mud, opening the carriage door. He offered Isabella his hand, surprised when she accepted and stepped unsteadily down. Dark circles had formed under her eyes. Nicolas placed a gentle finger under Isabella's chin to look better into her green eyes. She met his inquiring gaze defiantly, daring Nicolas to say one word. Sighing heavily, he released her and walked inside the inn to rent rooms for the night, knowing Isabella would not share his bed again. She made it abundantly clear she wanted nothing to do him. Nicolas reluctantly complied, having no choice in the matter, if he wished to avoid a verbal fight.
The women went to their room while Nicolas and his men bedded their horses down for the night. Returning to the inn, he was informed Isabella and her maid will be taking their dinner in their chamber. Losing patience with his wife and her obvious tantrum, Nicolas doffed his soaked cloak and poured a cup of ale. Listening to the local gossip circulating about the Realm, whispers about the plague spreading throughout Europe made his insides clench in fear. Will it come to England, too?
His heart pounded painfully in his chest. Nicolas missed Isabella. He missed the way her eyes smoldered in the light of the fire as they made love, the intoxicating way he felt drowning in pools of emerald. The way she quivered at his mere touch. Nicolas shifted uncomfortably, growing hard and no way to relieve his situation.
Upstairs, Isabella was in a hell of her own, completely miserable without Nicolas. Isabella knew she was being silly, but it hurt none the less being treated like a mere woman. She'd earned the right to be who she was, not held back by her own husband. On the bright side of the journey, Alison relaxed enough to share bits and pieces of her life. The young woman had known happy years during her youth.
"Alison, it's time we were truthful with one another.” Isabella was careful not to make Alison feel threatened. “Were you a noblewoman?” Isabella watched the young woman's reaction to her direct question. Alison's wide eyes welled with tears.
How can I lie to her, Alison asked herself, when Isabella has treated me so kindly? Deep in her heart, she wished to tell her secrets and trust someone who had borne hard years as she. “Yea, I was born a noblewoman."
"What happened?"
A sad, rueful smile curved Alison's lips. “I fell in love with a man whom my father hated. I did not know the reason why until I found myself pregnant and my lover informed me he was already married. In shame, I confessed my sin to my father. I was condemned to live in a convent until my son was born. When I refused to give Allen up, my father disowned me. The convent no longer received money for my care, so I was employed as a seamstress to earn my keep."
"Did your lover not ever come for you?” Isabella asked gently, watching Alison nervously play with the hem of her nightrail.
Tears streamed down Alison's cheeks as she told Isabella things she had never spoke of to anyone. “When his wife mysteriously died in her sleep, he came to me. He wanted me to be his mistress, not to make me his bride. If unable to find a rich wife and produce a son, he promised my son would be his heir. You see, he needed money to support his rich habits and my father made it abundantly clear he would never accept him as a son-in-law."
Isabella wiped away her own tears for her own mother's tale was as woeful as Alison's. Deciding to help, Isabella declared, “You will accompany me to court as you rightfully are, Lady Alison. We are roughly the same height though you are slimmer than I. You can pick what gowns you like from my wardrobe and alter them to fit you. When we have a chance we shall have new dresses made for you.” Leaping out of her bed, Isabella decided it time she spoke to her husband. A thought struck her. “Why did you come to Blood Keep?” she asked bluntly.
Taken back by Isabella's declaration, the question threw Alison who could only stare at her. Isabella crossed her arms waiting for an answer. How could she lie to her when she was willing to take the risk and help her be reinstated of her noble rights? Swallowing back the fear, Alison answered, “A troop of Black Knights stopped at the village near the convent where I lived. Impressed with Allen's manners, they told me about Blood Keep who welcomed those of illegitimate birth. The villagers were quite eager in telling the knights about my sin.” Alison did not lie. It was the opening her lover needed to get her inside Blood Keep.
Having a pretty good idea who the child's father was, Isabella decided to play along. “I must speak with my husband about tomorrow. Get some rest. I'll be back in a while.” Trusting a woman who had motive and opportunity to stick a dagger in her heart while she slept, Isabella's instincts told her Alison needed their help, for both her and her son's sake.
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Chapter Ten
Savagely punching the lumpy pillow, Nicolas struggled to get some sleep. Exhausted, all he could do was think about Isabella. A soft tap wrapped against the door to his chamber interrupting his thoughts.
"Who is it?” he barked, in no mood to be bothered.
"It's me, Isabella,” she spoke softly through the door.
He leapt off the bed and ran to open it. Isabella stood shivering in the dimly lit hallway, clad in a thin shift, her smooth skin golden next to the bleached material. “Come in, you'll catch a chill out there.” Nicolas ordered, his voice more gruff than he intended. She gracefully slipped inside the chamber and hurried to stand by the warm fire, unknowingly giving Nicolas an enticing view of her ripe, shapely curves.
Isabella's mouth went dry, all too aware of his state of undress. The days had been long and the nights’ unbearable being close to him and so terribly far from the man she desired. Clearing her throat, Isabella watched her husband casually walk
over to the bed, apparently unconcerned about his naked state. “I must speak with you on a matter of great importance.” Nicolas reclined on the mattress, propping his back against the headboard, stretching his long legs out in front of him. She licked her dry lips, watching his graceful movements, a lion lazily watching his prey's every move.
Nicolas tried to act casual, except his traitorous body reacted to her hot gaze upon him. The tip of her pink tongue darted along her lower lip, wetting the lush fullness. His shaft grew, lengthening in response as her breasts rose with each labored breath she took.
"My lord...” Isabella tried to talk, nervous and excited at the same time. His manhood thickened, lengthening. She stood undecided, wanting Nicolas as badly as he wanted her. What was stopping her from going to her own husband, Isabella thought wildly as her body quickened in response to his.
Drowning in her eyes like a parched man finding relief from a burning desert, he tried to focus on her reason for coming to his chambers. “What do you wish to discuss?"
"I—I have to talk to you."
Powerful muscles bunched as Nicolas shoved off the bed, closing the distance between them. Nicolas towered over her, aching to touch her, needing to feel Isabella's naked body under him. “About what?” His voice deepened, need slammed him unbearably, desperately needing to touch his wife.
Amber eyes burned her. Isabella was forced to tilt her head back to see his handsome face better. His stark beauty enthralled her senses, his strength and power surrounded her. “I.... “Unsure what to do when his firm mouth swooped down, capturing hers in a searing kiss.
Demanding she surrender to him, arms of steel wrapped Isabella in a brutal embrace. Nicolas kissed her savagely, exalted when Isabella clung to him, returning his kiss with her own fierce desire. Drawing her garment off in a single, fluid motion, he swept Isabella off her feet and carried her to his bed, laying her on the mattress. His hot mouth lowered to capture a ripe rosebud. She threw her head back as a large hand swept over her satiny skin, sliding down her quivering stomach to the soft curls at the apex between her legs. Isabella sat up with a wicked gleam in her eyes and straddled his lean hips. Amber eyes darkened as Isabella positioned her moist center over his hard shaft.
