Song of Isabel

by Ida Curtis

  Then his face darkened. “The man who struck her did it before I got there. It’s a good thing I wasn’t there. I would have given myself away by rushing to her rescue as you did all those years ago, my lord.”

  The words had slipped from Jerome’s mouth. While Ingram looked puzzled, Chetwynd’s face tightened noticeably. Jerome must have known he had said more than he should have. He rushed on, “Neither one of us could sleep, and we talked to pass the time. Lady Isabel told me the story.”

  “What else did you talk about?” Chetwynd snapped, fearful of the confidences that might have been shared.

  “Just my own story, my lord. About how I joined your troop. Lady Isabel asked how I became your squire. It was after that she told me how you rescued her when she was just about my age.”

  Chetwynd relaxed. It was foolish to think Isabel would give Jerome intimate details or that he would spread tales. He knew he owed the young squire a huge debt of gratitude.

  “You did well, Jerome. Your observations may help us discover the outlaws. And I’ll never be able to thank you enough for what you did to help Lady Isabel.”

  Although Ingram must have been puzzled by the exchange between Chetwynd and Jerome, he didn’t inquire about it. Instead he asked, “Do you have any idea which way the outlaws went?”

  “No, I believe they left in the night. If I had been on my own, I would have tried to pick up some clues at their cave, but I didn’t want to delay moving Lady Isabel to safety. It took us a long time to travel, as she was hurt and we were both tired.”

  “You acted wisely,” Chetwynd assured him. “They will be long gone by now, Ingram. From what Jerome has told us, I think we can assume the kidnappers were not common bandits stealing to feed their families.

  “Marianna recognized the merchant, and he left here in a suspicious manner. If the outlaws were soldiers hired by my enemies, we do have someone to watch for. He may not suspect we are on to him.”

  Chetwynd moved restlessly in his seat, eager now to look in on Isabel. “In the meantime, I think we should delay our departure for a day to make sure Lady Isabel is rested and healing properly. Then I will persuade her to stay here while we go on to the palace.”

  When both Jerome and Ingram looked surprised at his words, Chetwynd defended his decision. “The convent is the safest place for Lady Isabel until we know more about the kidnappers. After her experience, I’m sure she will want to rest in a safe place.”

  “Lady Isabel does not frighten easily,” Jerome commented. Then when he saw the frown Chetwynd directed at him, he added, “I’m sure you know best, my lord.”

  Chetwynd ignored his words and turned toward Ingram. “Perhaps we should send the rest of the men on to their homes. If Lady Isabel stays here, we don’t need them for protection. After resting a day, the three of us can travel to the palace on our own.”

  Ingram delayed his answer until Jerome had left for his bed. Then he spoke up. “I think you should wait until you speak with Lady Isabel before you make a final decision about leaving her behind, my lord. You promised to take her to her brother.”

  Although Chetwynd resented being reminded of his promise to Isabel, he knew Ingram was right. If there was one thing they had all learned about Isabel, it was that she had a strong will and a mind of her own. He would have to be careful how he approached the subject of leaving her behind. He nodded to acknowledge Ingram’s warning, but didn’t comment further.

  “I’m curious, Chetwynd. What’s the story Jerome was talking about? You never mentioned that you knew Lady Isabel before we arrived at Narbonne.”

  “I didn’t know her. Not really. Eight years ago, I kept four soldiers from attacking a young maiden in a meadow. It turned out to be Lady Isabel. When we arrived at Narbonne, she remembered me.”

  “And you, did you remember her?”

  Chetwynd raised his eyebrows. “I remembered a feisty little maid who fought off one of the soldiers, giving him a vicious bite on the hand when he dared to touch her.”

  “She hasn’t changed much,” Ingram said.

  Chetwynd nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”

  After wishing Ingram a good rest, Chetwynd went directly to Isabel’s bedchamber. Marianna and Gilda were dozing in front of the fire, but they awoke when he entered the room.

  “Thank you for watching over Lady Isabel. Go to your beds now. I’ll stay with her,” he said, pointing to a bench along the wall. “I can sleep there.”

  The two women looked at each other, and Chetwynd was afraid they might insist on staying. He wanted to have Isabel to himself for a while. But neither woman objected, and Marianna was indiscreet enough to smile her approval.

  Alone at last with Isabel, Chetwynd knelt beside her bed. She lay on her back with the blanket pulled up to her chin. In spite of the discolored cheek, her face, surrounded by a mass of curly hair, looked peaceful. He breathed in the lemon scent of her hair and closed his eyes at the pleasure it gave him. He had planned to rest on the bench, but he couldn’t move away. Settling into a more comfortable position kneeling at the edge of her bed, he rested his head on his arms. With his face close to hers, he listened to her breathing and couldn’t imagine a more reassuring sound.

  WHEN ISABEL TRIED TO MOVE IN HER SLEEP, SHE felt something holding her head in place. She opened her eyes and discovered Chetwynd had his arm on her hair. He was asleep, slumped beside her bed. She thought about how tired he must have been to fall asleep in such an awkward position. She held her head still so as not to wake him.

  His head was buried in his arms, his golden hair mingled with her own dark curls. Although she did not wish to disturb him, Isabel could not resist touching his hair with her free hand. While her hair was made up of tight curls that gave resistance when you tried to pull your fingers through them, his tresses were rose-petal soft. There were no tangles to keep her fingers from sliding through the silky locks.

  At her touch, Chetwynd turned his head to look at her. It was early morning, and there was just enough light for Isabel to see his face. His expression was still soft and relaxed from sleep.

  “Would you come into bed and hold me?”

  Her voice was a whisper that pulled at Chetwynd’s very soul. He halfheartedly tried to decline. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, my lady.” In spite of his words, he laid his hand on her throat and felt the pulse beating there.

  “I’ll turn my back. You are fully clothed, my lord.”

  Because Isabel turned away from him and moved over in the bed, she missed seeing his smile. She pulled her knees up, hoping to remind him of how he held her on the horse. She gave a sigh of relief when she felt him raise the blanket and move onto her bed.

  Chetwynd positioned his body behind hers and moved one arm around her. As his hand rested below her breasts, he became very aware of the fact that her night shift was much thinner than the clothes she had been wearing when they were on his horse. Her rounded breasts rested on his arm, and he couldn’t help cupping one of them. When she snuggled back against him, Chetwynd was afraid he might go mad. He was fully awake now.

  To distract himself from the soft body that was arousing his own, he whispered in her ear, “You told Jerome I rescued you from soldiers.”

  “Yes,” she murmured, her voice husky with satisfaction. “We talked through the night. He told me how you and Ingram rescued him from life as a robber. You are a very chivalrous man, my lord.”

  He didn’t feel like a chivalrous man. In fact, all he could think of was turning the woman he held so tenderly onto her back and burying himself deep inside her. He reminded himself that she was a virgin. If he did what he wanted to do, it would give her more pain than pleasure.

  As his own tension grew, he could feel Isabel relaxing. He willed himself to do the same. If he could lull her to sleep again, he could back out of her bed. He moved his hand away from her breast and gently rubbed her stomach. He had seen mothers do this to put their babies to sleep.

  But Isabel was not a
baby, and Chetwynd could tell she was far from being lulled. She moved her own hand on top of his and pressed it against her. She might be a virgin, but she was aware of the erotic potential of her body. When she directed his hand lower, he knew where she wanted him to go. Through her shift her mound felt hot and moist.

  Pushing that thin bit of clothing aside, he rubbed her gently, tantalizingly, until she was moving against his hand in a more desperate and increasing rhythm. She turned her head into her pillow to bury her moans. Unable to refuse her the release she sought, Chetwynd increased the pressure of his caresses. It wasn’t long before he felt the small contractions against his hand.

  Isabel lay still for a long time. She was too embarrassed to take her face out of her pillow. She had talked him into her bed. He had given her pleasure, but taken none for himself. She tried to keep him from turning her face to look at him, but she wasn’t strong enough.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked, although he thought he knew.

  “I shouldn’t have talked you into my bed. You can go now.” Her voice was a whisper, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  “Isabel, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You have a lovely, sensual body. It’s a pleasure just to touch you.”

  “But you don’t desire me.” She looked at him then, and her eyes were incredibly sad.

  “Is that what you think?”

  Chetwynd pulled her against him, allowing her to feel his aroused body. His mouth found hers, and he kissed her with all the passion he had held in check. His mouth moved on hers until she opened her lips, giving him the access he desired.

  It was a long time before he stopped making love to her mouth, tasting her and tangling his tongue with hers. Isabel felt her desire for him growing again and groaned when he pulled back and looked into her eyes.

  “I want you, Isabel. I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you moving in the pond. But you’re a virgin, and there are things I must settle before I can change that. We need to wait.”

  Her eyes shone. “You desire me.” It was a statement, not a question, and she tried to move closer again.

  “Yes, I do.” He held her away. “Did you hear the rest? We need to wait,” he repeated.

  “How long?” she asked as she placed her hand on his chest and felt his heart beating wildly.

  He rolled his eyes and grimaced. “I hope not too much longer.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ISABEL WATCHED CHETWYND LEAVE HER bed. He kept his back to her as he straightened his clothes. Although Chetwynd had made a point of showing that he desired her, she couldn’t help but wonder if she understood his meaning. She hoped he wanted to be her husband in every sense, but perhaps he only wished to satisfy his physical need. Isabel longed to ask him a question that would clarify his intent, but she was embarrassed by what had just happened. She had practically begged for his caress. Feeling self-conscious, she decided to wait until he left the room to leave her bed.

  “Will we be leaving Saint Ives soon, my lord?” she asked.

  When Chetwynd turned to face her, Isabel was sitting up with the blanket pulled up to her chin and her hair a wild tangle that reminded him how good it felt when he grasped a handful. He knew he’d have to move much farther away, preferably to another room, if he wished to avoid being tempted back into her bed.

  Chetwynd had meant to tell her they were delaying their journey, but when Isabel awoke and pleaded with him to join her in bed, he had forgotten everything else.

  “We are staying here for a day to make sure you’re rested.” His voice was a little hoarse, and he cleared his throat. “I meant to tell you earlier.”

  “I don’t need to rest, my lord. I’m ready to travel. I know how eager everyone is to reach their homes.”

  Chetwynd watched her drop the blanket and start to rise. He cursed under his breath as he observed her rosy nipples and rounded breasts through the thin shift.

  “We’re not leaving today, so get back under the covers, Isabel,” he ordered.

  His terse command was enough to send her scurrying under the blanket, and he almost smiled at the sight. Thankful that she was covered, he changed his tone. “We’re near to Aachen, and I’m sending my men on ahead. You aren’t delaying anyone. After I complete an errand, I’ll come back.”

  Isabel frowned. “You didn’t have to shout.”

  Had he shouted? he wondered. No doubt he had. “No, I didn’t have to shout. I’m sorry. I have a surprise for you. I’ll send Marianna to help you get ready. You look much improved after your rest, and we’re going for a short ride.”

  Isabel perked up immediately at his words. When she flashed him a smile, Chetwynd quickly left the room. Isabel wondered at his great hurry and puzzled over what his surprise could be.

  Marianna arrived with fresh baked bread to tempt Isabel out of bed, only to find her mistress already searching through her clothes.

  “I thought you’d want to stay in bed and rest today, my lady. I understand we aren’t continuing our journey until tomorrow.”

  “Chetwynd is taking me for a ride, Marianna. I need to be ready when he returns for me.”

  “You do look much improved, but I wonder if going for a ride is wise. I understood we were delaying a day so that you can regain your strength.”

  “Don’t worry yourself, Marianna. I suspect wherever Lord Chetwynd is taking me is not far. I want to wear something nice today.” She looked at herself in the glass and made a face. “Look how my bruise has turned black and yellow. Do we have any powder we can use to cover it?”

  “I think I can find some, although I doubt anything will cover it completely. You are in good spirits, my lady. Did something happen last night?”

  “Yes, I got a good rest. Now help me prepare for our ride.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. You heard what Sister Gilda said. A marriage is difficult to annul if it’s been consummated, my lady. She is an expert on these matters.”

  “Marianna, I told my grandmother and I’m telling you, I don’t plan to trap Chetwynd.”

  “Of course not. But things change. I suspect your husband may be more than ready to try and trap you.”

  Isabel shook her head. “Nothing happened between us last night.” At least nothing that you could consider consummating a marriage, she thought. “Please don’t say another word about it, Marianna.”

  Though Isabel protested, she couldn’t blame Marianna for her curiosity. But that didn’t mean she wanted to confide the fact that she invited Chetwynd into her bed and made it all too clear that she wanted him to make love to her. In the future, she would have to be more careful not to forget herself. She must wait for Chetwynd to indicate he wished to be her husband.

  Marianna’s disappointed expression caused Isabel to soften her tone. “I know you have my best interests at heart, Marianna. If anything’s going to come of our marriage, it’s important that it happens because we both want it that way. Now please help me dress for our ride.”

  WHILE MARIANNA WAS HELPING ISABEL, CHETWYND went in search of Ingram. He found him in the dining hall.

  “Is Lady Isabel well this morning?” Ingram asked.

  “She is surprisingly fit. But her face has blossomed into color. I wish I could get my hands on the man who did that to her.”

  “When you finish with him, I’ll take a turn.”

  The thought sobered the two men, and they ate in silence for a while. Other late risers came in search of food, but after seeing the expression on Chetwynd’s face, they sat apart, giving the two men privacy.

  “At least one of the outlaws knew you, Chetwynd. Have you thought about who might want to act against you?”

  “Constantly. I’ve made enemies, as you well know. The name that springs to mind is Lothar. He is probably my most powerful enemy.”

  Ingram nodded. “The king’s oldest son is bad-tempered, and he is furious with Queen Judith. He made it clear at the Spring Assembly that he objected to the support you gave the que
en in her efforts to gain territory for Charles,” Ingram said.

  “I still believe the queen is within her rights to seek an inheritance for her young son,” Chetwynd replied.

  “I’m not saying you are wrong to support her, but you have to expect opposition from King Louis’s grown sons.”

  “Charles is their half-brother. They should be willing to see he receives a share of the empire,” Chetwynd argued.

  Ingram shrugged. “There are other parties who might wish to keep you from using your influence to help the queen, Chetwynd.”

  “I suppose you mean the church fathers.”

  “Yes. The bishops had a hand in dividing the empire between Lothar, Pepin, and Louis the Younger. They worked for many years to negotiate a plan for orderly succession, hoping to keep the empire Christian and powerful. They have a strong motive for keeping the division as it is.”

  “I considered that. But although I have made enemies among religious leaders, I can’t think of one who might organize a kidnapping. They are clerics, after all.”

  “You know that doesn’t mean they don’t take strong action when they believe it’s necessary.”

  “You’re right, and I won’t rule them out. Another possibility is Bernard of Septimania. As the king’s chamberlain, he works closely with the queen in managing domestic matters. I’ve thought about him a great deal since we left court. I suspect he was jealous that Judith sought my help on several occasions.”

  “He’s jealous of more than that,” Ingram muttered.

  Chetwynd couldn’t believe his ears. “What did you say?” Ingram ignored the question. “Bernard has a reputation for conspiracy. I wouldn’t put anything past him. I think he and Lothar are your most powerful enemies.”

  Although his friend hadn’t overtly criticized him, Chetwynd couldn’t help but blame himself for the mistakes he made. Lothar, Bernard, or even one of the bishops could have reasons for acting against him.