by Wend Petzler
Cradling his injured hand, Alden watched Isabella gracefully walk amongst the high members of court, beginning to feel he had severely misjudged Lady Isabella. Taming the wild creature who should have been his bride would prove to be a real challenge. Alden turned on his heel to leave and was stayed abruptly, his face slamming into a hard wall of muscle. When he glared up at the offending man, Alden paled.
The Red Dragon!
Drago wore a pleasant smile. “As a baron to a mere lord, I order you to stay away from my wife and Lady Alison.” His words were spoken in low, menacing voice. “I issue this warning only once. If you do not heed my advice you will face my wrath. Understand?"
Red in the face, Alden noticed the curious crowd gathering around him and Drago who was well loved amongst the nobles while he was not. Feeling safe at court, Alden threw caution to the wind, sneering at the tall knight. “I do believe I have a common bond with the ladies mentioned. They have both felt my tender touch each in their own way."
Nicolas grabbed a fistful of Alden's tunic, lifting the man until his toes brushed the ground. Snarling in the shocked man's face, “I'll kill you if you come near them again."
King Edward approached the two quarreling men. “Do we have a problem?"
Releasing Alden, Nicolas bowed to Edward while the other refused to meet the King's shrewd and intent gaze. “Your Majesty, I was merely taking Lord Alden to task for his lack of manners toward my wife."
Laughing dryly, Edward observed Alden's face reddened at the insult. “It does appear Alden needs instruction in chivalry."
Alden lost control of his temper, snapping in reply, “Your Majesty, I am being insulted, and you make jests at my expense? Twice, I have been cheated of my right to rule Blood Keep and the chance to marry Lady Isabella. I demand to be heard. I want what is mine.” He glared, irate at Drago who lazily smiled down at him.
"I am King,” Edward roared. “I decide who rules Blood Keep. I left the demesne in Isabella's capable hands and the castle has flourished. Drago has served me well for many years and I rewarded him by joining him to my cousin in wedlock. Do you wish to contest my decision?” he demanded, his eyes nearly black with rage.
"If I contest the marriage, what think you fair to settle the matter of Blood Keep?” Alden asked boldly.
Appearing thoughtful, the King smiled dangerously. “A joust between you and Drago should settle the dispute. What say you, Drago? Would you honor the outcome?"
Nicolas briefly met Isabella's questioning gaze before he answered, “Yea, I will honor the outcome."
Edward raised his hands to the murmuring crowd. “The Tournament of the Demons, being held in two weeks, shall be the grounds upon to settle the dispute.” Glaring at Alden, “If by chance one of you does not show, the absent shall forfeit all claims Blood Keep and my cousin.” Motioning for the musicians to resume, Edward solemnly took his wife's hand in his, grieved by this new twist to his plans. He had hoped with Drago as baron it would end the contention over Blood Keep. Now it was a matter to be settled by combat. What was his realm been based on, if not war?
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Twelve
Glaring at Isabella, Emma hissed, “This is your fault! Drago has to fight to keep what is rightfully his."
Shaken by Alden's boldness, Isabella shot the woman a lethal look. “Alden is a fool if he thinks I will allow him to rule Blood Keep."
Stepping beside her, Nicolas answered, “You are a mere woman, Isabella. I make the decisions for Blood Keep, not you anymore. Remember your place."
Seeing an opportunity to cause friction between the married couple, Emma added her opinion. “Women are required to obey their husband's commands, remaining in the background, if he wishes it so.” Preening at the handsome knight, she was delighted Drago disciplined his wife.
Blind rage coursed through Isabella, trapped between Emma and Nicolas. Promising Otto and Michael to be a lady, she had steadfast honored her word. When could she be herself again? Feeling as if a noose was strangling the very life out of her, something snapped inside her, demanding she stand and fight. Her word to her friends made her flee. Retreat was a situation she had never been in before, until she met Drago.
"My lord, if you will permit me, I wish to retire for the evening.” Isabella hurried from the hall, hoping to escape further humiliation.
He made to rush after Isabella when Emma laid her hand on his arm, staying him. Shivering in delight at the strength underneath the soft cloth, she leaned into him. “Nicolas, dance with me?” Emma's sultry eyes pleaded, trying her best to entice him to stay.
Losing his patience, Nicolas untangled his arm from her. “Emma, I have matters to attend.” Signaling to a pale Alison and an agitated Henry to follow him, “We shall return to our chambers.” he ordered, angry Isabella had left him. Finally able to catch up with her, he scowled at her, which did no good because a stone-faced Isabella refused to look at him.
Ahmed stood guard at their chambers, alarmed by Drago's anger. “What has happened?” He held the door open for them.
"I am to joust Lord Alden for Blood Keep. Ahmed, I need you to stand guard over Lady Alison. I fear for her safety while we are in close quarters with Alden.” Nicolas poured a glass of wine and downed it, fuming at the turn of events.
When Alison made to protest, Isabella wearily held up a hand to halt her argument. “It is for your own protection. I will send a messenger to Gabriel, instructing him to guard your son with the aid of the Black Army. You know what the man is capable of as do I. Alden will stop at nothing to obtain what he wants,” Isabella quietly reminded Alison, her own thoughts dark with helpless rage.
Paling at the real possibility her son could be harmed, Alison paused, knowing in her heart Gabriel would not fail in guarding her son. She smiled weakly. “Lord Drago, my life and my son's are in your capable hands."
Nicolas smiled reassuringly. “Fear not, we will keep you safe. I swear on my honor.” He bowed to Alison. Ahmed escorted Alison to her chambers leaving Nicolas alone with his seething wife. Not for the first time, he regretted their coming to London
"How long must we remain in London?” Isabella demanded extremely weary of the games played at her expense, and the charade she was forced to act out.
"Two more days. We must attend the Spring Feasts to show our loyalty to Edward.” He drew his tunic over his head, eyes smoldering with desire. “Come, Isabella, I have an oath to keep.” Nicolas hungrily reached for her only to be eluded as Isabella easily avoided his hand.
"We have a matter to discuss, my lord. Lady Emma is increasingly becoming a nuisance. What are your intentions towards her?” Isabella questioned him, a fine eyebrow rose with her demand.
He should have known the fiasco at dinner would not be so easily forgotten. “Your duty is to me, she is none of your concern,” he replied absently. His hot gaze wandered hungrily over her lithe body.
"Oh really?” she asked softly, fury burning in her eyes. “I disagree. Lady Emma is making herself my problem. What are your intentions toward her?” she demanded again, furious at being in such a despicable situation.
Growing aggravated by her persistence of the conversation, he angrily jerked off his trousers and climbed in bed. “As your husband, I will not explain my affairs to you. Let us go to bed."
"No, Nicolas, we will discuss this now. As your wife, you will give me the respect and courtesy due to me as a baroness,” she snarled back, tired of playing games.
Throwing back the blankets, he rose, towering over her menacingly. “What Emma and I shared is none of your concern,” Nicolas shouted back. No woman was going to order him about, not even his own wife. Jerking back on his clothes, he reached for the doorknob and snatched open the door. “Since you will accord me no peace, I shall seek more pleasant company to spend time with.” He slammed the door behind him. “Ahmed, see that Isabella does not leave our rooms. I'm going to find something to drink.” He strode angrily down the hallway,
fed up with Isabella's insecurities.
Halfway down the hall, Nicolas cursed his stupidity. Isabella had every right to be unhappy with Emma. He returned to their chamber, ignoring the amused look Ahmed wore and went inside. “Isabella, I'm ... Ah hell, not again!” Cursing under his breath, he went in search for his wayward wife.
Tears of hurt welled up inside her. Pain exploded inside her heart, she couldn't breathe. Dragging out her trunks, Isabella pulled out the leather outfit and donned her customary clothes. Opening the glass door to the balcony, she slipped over the rail and climbed up the drain pipe to the next story. Checking through the window of the chamber to see if it was occupied, she saw no one and entered. Seeking the secret passageway to the roof of the palace, she opened the false door and took hold of the torch and lit it. Running up the steep stairs, she sought some solace from her pain.
High above London, Isabella perched on the top edge of the barrier and lifted her face to the brisk wind. Stars twinkled brightly above the brightly lit city far below her. The freedom of escaping her prison for a brief while soothed her untamed soul until thoughts of Nicolas invaded her calm. She concluded despairingly he would never understand her. Hot, miserable tears coursed down her cheeks as she sat down on the stone ledge, dangling her legs precariously over the edge. What was she going to do with a man who had not the wit to respect her or her accomplishments?
Tired from the long day, she decided to return to their chambers by way of the main corridors. Strolling along the dimly lit hallways, she heard voices. Melting into the shadows, she saw two people sharing a passionate kiss. Covering her mouth from making any noise, her heart shattered from the shock of betrayal—Drago and Emma.
Hurt beyond all else, she headed back to her chamber by way of the balcony. Stripping her clothes off, she crawled into bed alone, crying from the awful ache, feeling more alone than she ever had in all the toughest trials in her life.
* * * *
Roaming the empty corridors, Nicolas decided to try the great hall, groaning when Emma detached herself from a young knight and swished across the room to latch onto him. “Lady Emma, isn't the hour late? Shouldn't you be in bed?” He politely inquired, trying very hard to ignore her ripe breasts rubbing against his chest.
"Is that an invitation, my lord?” Emma purred, lust in her eyes.
"No, it is not. Please excuse me, but I am searching for ... someone.” He did not want the woman to know he and Isabella were fighting.
"Oh well, perhaps you are right about the hour being late. Will you escort me to my chambers?” She smiled in triumph, knowing Drago could not deny her. His code of honor would not allow a woman to leave without an escort.
Resigned, he offered his arm to the voluptuous redhead, praying Isabella didn't see them together. He tried to ignore Emma's deliberate caresses, growing very nervous being alone with the lusty female. She finally paused, indicating they had reached her chambers.
"Good night, my lady.” He graciously bowed, preparing to leave when Emma threw her arms around his neck, her luscious lips locking onto his. Caught off guard by her sudden kiss, Nicolas wrapped his arms involuntarily wrapped around her. Fear of being seen in such a compromising position, Nicolas frantically struggled to untangle her arms from around his neck.
Confused, Emma let go. “What's wrong? I thought you wanted me?"
"What I want is only what my wife can give me. Good night,” Nicolas stormed away, needing to find his wife. Only Isabella could satisfy his needs, physical and emotional.
Not long after Isabella fell asleep, Nicolas quietly entered the room and drew off his clothes. Climbing into bed, he laid awake watching his wife sleep, wondering how in the world he was to understand such a free spirit like Isabella. Sighing with frustration, he placed a soft kiss on her full lips before rolling onto his side and went to sleep.
The next morning, he rose at dawn and dressed quietly, leaving the chamber to speak with Ahmed who remained on guard, his curved sword drawn. “Have you checked on Lady Alison?"
"Yes. Lady Alison is restless. The woman has many secrets haunting her.” Ahmed's eyes were concerned about the pale creature Isabella had befriended. “I pray to Allah her secrets won't bring harm to you and my mistress."
"Seek Henry for me and send him here. Then, my friend, go and find some rest.” Nicolas belted his sword around his narrow hips, adjusting the familiar weight. Ahmed inclined his turbaned head and left to seek the knight Drago requested.
It wasn't long when Henry hurried down the hallway, wearing chain mail and his sword drawn. “I am at your service, my lord. What are my orders?” The young man was eager to serve, eager to please.
"I want you to guard Lady Isabella and Lady Alison. Let them not out of your sight. I know Isabella will not be content to stay indoors, allow them to venture out to the gardens. Do not be a hero when it comes to handling my wife. If you need help, come fetch me.” Nicolas grasped the young man's shoulder. Confident in Henry, he headed for breakfast.
Isabella awoke alone in the bed, not surprised after what she'd seen last night. Before she could be upset, Henry announced her maid from outside the door.
"Come in."
"My lady, do you wish to bathe?” the timid girl squeaked.
Smiling kindly, Isabella declined. “I shall only sponge off this morning. I think I shall wear the pink gown today.” She went to pour water from a porcelain pitcher into a matching bowl, using a cloth to wash. When she heard the girl's sharp intake of breath, Isabella whipped around in surprise.
"Who canna hurt someone as nice as ye, my lady?” Horrified, she stared at the healed scars.
"A man tried to teach me a lesson about respect,” was her grim reply as Isabella dried with a fluffy towel.
Confusion puckered the young maid's brow. “Did he succeed?"
A grin of pure devilish delight lit Isabella's elfish features. “Let us just say, the man learned one of his own."
The maid giggled, quickly covering her mouth. She hurried to help Isabella into a yellow shift followed by the soft gown of pale pink velvet. “Ye are not like the ladies here at court."
"I am glad. They appear a wee bit stuffy to me. I think I will wear my hair down today, no wimble.” Trivial as it seemed, it was the one thing she could rebel against with persecution.
"My lady, I shouldna be speakin ill of another, I feel I must warn ye of Lady Emma's harmful intentions towards ye. She's been busy at breakfast.” The girl paused, hoping not to be beaten for repeating gossip. “I heard her spreading terrible lies about ye. She desires your husband and hates competition.” Fear gripped her as she waited for Isabella's response.
Isabella patted the girl's hand reassuringly. “Thank you for warning me. Is breakfast still available?"
"Yea, my lady, we have many who rise late in the palace.” The girl was surprised when Lady Isabella pressed several shillings in her hand.
"If anyone asks, send them my way. I will handle it.” Isabella opened the door and greeted Henry and Alison. “Hungry?” she asked, trying to be cheerful for her friend's sake.
Yawning behind her slender hand, Alison answered. “Yes, I am famished."
Alarmed by the paleness of Alison's drawn features, Isabella asked, “Are you ill?"
Flushed, bright tears shimmered in her large, gray eyes. “I had bad dreams last night. I could not help wondering, do you think my father will ever forgive me?"
Squeezing Alison's fragile hand reassuringly, Isabella answered her confidently, “Your father will forgive you when you tell him you love him and miss him terribly.” Fathers who loved their children always forgave them, did they not? Isabella mentally sighed. She had never known the love of a father, only the love of a barbarian, and she had never doubted Otto's love or his dedication to her.
Upon entering the dining hall, Alison saw Lady Emma sneer in their direction, speaking to a small group of women. The looks they gave Isabella boded ill intent. “Please, Isabella, remember Lady Emma's words can
not do any harm to you or your husband. I've seen how Drago watches you, the man loves you,” Alison whispered frantically as the woman sauntered over toward them.
Smiling sadly at Alison, she already knew the truth about Nicolas and Emma. As to him loving her, she knew it wasn't true. He only wanted her army and lands, perhaps her body once in a while, but always his freedom to do what he willed. Something he denied her. “Worry not, I shall strive to behave."
Alison glanced at her with worry, unable to ask what was wrong when Emma closed in on them with her pert nose stuck up in the air.
"I see you ladies are looking chipper. How was your sleep, Lady Isabella?"
Isabella smiled, her perfect white teeth bared. “I must admit it was restless what with satisfying my husband's immense sexual appetites.” She outright lied. If Nicolas slept with the woman, let her think she wasn't woman enough to satisfy him! “King Edward has blessed me by giving me such a vigorous man for a husband. By the way, I heard rumors my cousin ponders an elderly gentleman of seventy to be your next husband. Is this true?” she asked, her eyes wide and innocent.
The woman was near to spitting as Alison dragged Isabella away. “You are impossible!"
Isabella threw her hand in the air dramatically, placing her other on her heart. “I must be what I am."
"Incorrigible, that's what you are!” Alison giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.
"Alison, you must not hide your beautiful smile, you must share it with the world. Right, Henry?” Isabella looked to the knight who was having a difficult time at being serious.
"I heartily agree. Lady Alison has a most wondrous smile.” Henry bowed before pulling their chairs out for them to take their place at the table.
Frowning at the amount of food left to waste, Isabella dryly commented, “They certainly eat well, don't they?” Where was Nicolas? Melancholy, her gaze drifted to the high windows, seeing the bright blue sky. “Let's go for a walk in the gardens,” she suggested, hoping the outdoors would cheer her up.
