by Ida Curtis
The right words had been spoken, and the two men looked at each other as though wondering what to do next. Justin stepped forward, eager to separate Chetwynd and Lothar while they were still on good terms. “I think you should take Isabel to your chambers, Chetwynd. The rest of us can take care of things from here. Perhaps Gilda will help you with Isabel.”
“I’m sure Chetwynd and Marianna are quite capable of caring for Isabel,” Gilda pointed out to Justin. “I’d like to speak with King Lothar about sponsoring a memorial for Gerberga. I think it would be fitting to set up a fund to help the many women who will miss the services Gerberga provided them.”
Justin frowned. “I don’t think this is the time or place . . .”
As Justin and Gilda began to argue, Chetwynd led Isabel from the room. She looked back at the pair who stood toe-to-toe and smiled at the sight. They made a striking couple, Gilda’s golden locks contrasting with Justin’s dark hair.
Back in their chambers, Isabel sat on the bed and watched Chetwynd washing himself. She had used her one good hand to help him wash the blood from his hair, and afterwards he had insisted she sit on the bed while he finished up. She could see bruises on his chest and back, but they didn’t mar his beauty. She remembered that was how Emma had described him to her all those years ago. At the time she had protested, not realizing a man could be beautiful.
“I think Cecil was implying that he knows something about the queen that Lothar would find interesting. Do you think Lothar is going to seek him out to hear his story?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Lothar will use anything he can against the queen. He distrusts her, perhaps with good reason. One thing is sure. Lothar has a soft spot in his heart for you, Isabel. It’s one reason I managed to keep from attacking him.”
“I think Lothar may be a little mad, Chetwynd. After the physician had given me a potion, I remember him pacing the floor and muttering about legends and someone writing a song about me. He even compared me to Roland.”
“Did he now? He always did like a good story, and apparently the tale of your escape from the kidnappers has been widely repeated.”
“Before the physician arrived, he did wrap my hand and stop the bleeding. He was quite upset at the sight of my blood.”
“And so he should be. It was fortunate for him that I finally learned to curb my temper.”
“With a little help from Justin,” she added.
“With a lot of help from Justin. I guess I’d better see if I can teach Jerome to control himself. Although I must say it was satisfying to see him pummeling Cecil. It made it easier for me to refrain from doing it myself.”
Chetwynd picked up her bandaged hand. “Do you think we should apply a new wrap?”
“No. Marianna already changed it, as you well know. I think she wanted to see if the physician did a good job. She said it was looking quite clean. Come to bed, my lord, before the sun comes up.”
Happy to do as she requested, Chetwynd gently pulled her into his arms. “I have to tell you, I was scared to death when I saw you outside my cell, Isabel. You didn’t say a word. It wasn’t until you ordered the guard to unhand Jerome that I knew you were all right.”
“It took an effort to hold myself together, but the sight of those two big men with their hands on Jerome made me forget everything else. Both Jerome and Ingram were wonderful, weren’t they? We are fortunate they found the leader of the kidnappers. Justin was able to convince Lothar to release you, and we now know we don’t have powerful enemies at court.”
“Yes. I think Lothar is as relieved as we are. He was more than a little worried that I blamed him for being behind the kidnapping. Hmmm, you smell good.”
Isabel chuckled. “After the stench of the dungeon, I imagine anything would smell good.”
“Not as good as this. Your hair is heaven. And this little spot, right beside your ear, is also nice. But this spot below your breast, it’s my favorite.”
“Chetwynd, you have a lot of serious-looking bruises. Maybe we’d better wait until you have healed.”
He pulled back a little to see her face. “I guess we’re both a little tender. We should wait.”
They stared at each other for a minute. Then they both started to laugh, softly at first and then more heartily.
“We’ll be careful,” he said as he moved her bandaged hand out of the way and pulled her on top of him.
EPILOGUE
Aachen, Spring, 826
CHETWYND SAT ON THE EDGE OF THE BED and pushed back the thick mass of hair that covered his wife’s face. Isabel was lying on her stomach, and she turned her head away from him.
“You said you’d be up by the time I dressed, Isabel. I’m washed and dressed, and it doesn’t appear you have even moved,” he complained.
“I’m too tired to move, and it’s your fault.”
Chetwynd shook his head. “You were just as enthusiastic as I was. I remember you saying we had to make up for the last night we slept in this bed. Although as I recall, our cuts and bruises didn’t dampen the spirit of our lovemaking much that time either.”
“Go to the great hall, Chetwynd. I’ll join you later,” Isabel muttered into her pillow.
“I don’t trust you, Isabel. The assembly starts today, and King Louis has requested an introduction. That’s quite an honor. I told him I’d present you after the morning meal.”
Isabel rolled over, but her eyes were still only slits. “Have some compassion for my delicate condition, my lord.”
Chetwynd pushed aside the cover and laid his hand on her slightly rounded stomach. “Yesterday we traveled from Aquis on horseback. Once we arrived, you bedded your husband with great vigor. You can’t make me believe you are at all delicate.”
“You do have a seductive touch, my lord,” she whispered as he caressed her stomach.
“Isabel, we don’t have time for . . . Someone is at the door.” He threw the cover over her head and went to answer the rap.
When Isabel heard Gilda’s voice greeting her husband, she threw the covers off, leapt from bed, and ran to embrace Chetwynd’s sister.
“Delicate condition,” Chetwynd muttered. But he had to grin at the contrast of a naked Isabel being embraced by the brown-habited Gilda. “I expect to see you both in the great hall in a quarter of an hour.”
The minute Chetwynd was gone, Isabel pushed Gilda toward a bench. “I can wash and dress while you talk, Gilda. I understand you spent the winter in Aachen, and I want to hear all about it. Don’t leave anything out.”
Gilda raised her eyebrows, watching Isabel splash water on herself. “It was an eventful winter, Isabel, but hardly as exciting a tale you as seem to expect. Each time I prepared to return to Saint Ives, there was something I was needed for here. Because of the absence of Gerberga, several of us had to step in and take over her commitments. No one realized how many women came to her for help.”
Isabel pulled her dress on over her head, then asked, “And what about Justin? Have you seen much of my brother?”
“Our paths crossed. Right now we are on opposite sides of a dispute between Count Hermanne and his wife. Hermanne wishes to dissolve their marriage, claiming the countess hasn’t given him an heir. In fact she has done so, but the boy is in poor health and unlikely to survive. I am making a presentation to the bishops on her behalf, and Justin is pleading the case for the count. There is absolutely no reason why the church should dissolve the marriage, and I can’t imagine how your brother can side with the count.” Gilda’s frustration with Justin was clear by the tone of her voice as she told her story.
Disappointed to hear that two people she cared for were at odds, Isabel reminded herself that she and Chetwynd had their differences when they first met. As she struggled with her headdress, she felt Gilda’s hands helping her gather her thick curls under a veil.
“Thanks, Gilda. Tell me the news about Queen Judith. Has she been rumored to have any new admirers?”
“The queen has been on her best beha
vior since her return to court. She has even helped me with my work a few times, although I have a feeling she will be expecting me to return the favor. She hasn’t given up her ambitions for her son. I will support her if I can do so in good conscience.”
“You’re very wise, Gilda. But be careful. It could be dangerous to be caught between the queen and Lothar.”
Gilda nodded. “As Lothar left for Rome the same day you and Chetwynd went to Aquis, you both avoided the return of the king and queen. Lothar has now returned for the Spring Assembly and so far has not caused any problems. Justin suspects this is the calm before the next storm. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s probably right. Lothar is no doubt as determined as ever to keep Queen Judith from advancing her claims for her son, Charles.”
With a grimace, Gilda said, “That’s enough of palace intrigue. I know Chetwynd will be impatient for us to join him, but tell me quickly about yourself, Isabel. Has it been a good winter for you?”
“Better than good. Chetwynd and I have had a great deal of time to become acquainted, and we are closer than ever. I do love him so.”
“I knew you’d be happy together.”
“And I love our home. Bosco has been training me to keep the accounts for the manor. He says he’s getting too old to do everything by himself. It’s satisfying work, and I have the support of Bosco’s wife. By the time Chetwynd goes off on his next campaign, I’ll be ready to manage the manor, with Bosco’s help, of course.”
“Do you have any idea where he will go?”
“Not yet, but Chetwynd told me the armies will be getting their assignments for the summer campaigns soon.”
Gilda lowered her eyes to Isabel’s waist and asked, “Isn’t there something else you wish to tell me?”
“You miss nothing.”
“I don’t have to be too observant. You didn’t have a stitch on when you greeted me.”
“I’m very excited, and so is Chetwynd. Even Jerome has come around. When he first heard I was with child, he scowled every time he saw Chetwynd. Jerome has always been very protective of me. But I guess he has observed that I’m healthy and happy and has accepted the inevitable.
“I have been teaching him to read. Jerome is a smart lad, and when he becomes frustrated with reading the Bible, I tempt him to work harder by bringing out the tales of Ovid. Father Ivo, our family priest, would have been proud of what I’m doing with the copies of the tales he gave me. He always said I’d be a good teacher. And what about you, Gilda, are you happy with your life?”
“I’m content. Sometimes I miss the convent, but there is a great deal of work to do here.”
“Have you taken your final vows yet?”
“No, not yet. I have been busy with my work in Aachen, and the abbess has not pushed me to take my vows. There is plenty of time to do that when I return to the convent.”
Isabel studied Gilda’s beautiful face, trying to read her thoughts. “Perhaps you will choose to return to the world and give up your nun’s robe.”
“I doubt that. I have a great deal of freedom when I wear my habit, and sometimes it gives me an advantage when I’m trying to help someone. Justin once accused me of using my vocation to influence the cases I plead before the bishops.”
“And do you?”
Gilda grinned. “Sometimes. I use whatever I need to win a case. But don’t tell your brother I admitted it. He can be insufferable.” Quickly changing the subject, she said, “Chetwynd’s waiting. Let’s go to the dining hall.”
AS ISABEL AND CHETWYND WAITED IN LINE TO greet King Louis and Queen Judith, Isabel whispered with her husband, telling him about her conversation with Gilda. “I think Justin and Gilda were made for each other.”
“You keep saying that, and you are dreaming, Isabel. You said she called him insufferable. And what about him? After embracing you in the dining hall, Justin frowned at Gilda and moved away. And before you and Gilda arrived, he was telling me it was time my sister returned to the convent and took her final vows.”
“Aha, I knew it. No doubt he wants her to make up her mind to leave the nunnery. In spite of what they say, I think they fancy each other.”
“Forget it,” Chetwynd advised. “I remember how nervous you were about meeting Queen Judith. Aren’t you nervous about meeting King Louis?”
“Maybe a little. But I already faced Lothar earlier, and that was probably the hardest thing I had to do. The last time I saw him was a very emotional time for me, and I wasn’t sure how I would react when we met again.”
“I admit it was a shock when Lothar went out of his way to stop by our table. I suspect he admires you, Isabel. He greeted you warmly, while he gave me only the briefest of acknowledgments.”
“I doubt I will ever understand the man,” Isabel said.
They had reached the royal couple, and Isabel studied King Louis as he was speaking to the noblewoman in front of her in line. Louis was shorter than the queen and looked old enough to be her grandfather. Nonetheless, his face had a serenity that suggested he was at peace with the world. It was easy to see why people called him Louis the Pious.
Isabel had been concentrating on the king and was surprised to hear the queen speak up. “Lady Isabel, how good to see you again. Your Majesty, this is Lord Chetwynd’s wife. I have told you about the assistance she gave me in my darkest hour.”
Isabel noticed that the queen’s smile was as bright as ever. For a minute it was easy to imagine that she had indeed helped the queen, instead of fleeing to Aquis with Chetwynd.
The king’s voice was soft but authoritative. “I have looked forward to meeting you, Lady Isabel. You are a fortunate man, Lord Chetwynd. Your wife’s reputation for bravery and resourcefulness are legend. My congratulations to you both.”
Surprised by such praise, Isabel was speechless, but she heard Lord Chetwynd reply, “Thank you, Your Majesty. I am indeed a fortunate man.”
The king spoke again, as Isabel and Chetwynd started to move on. “Perhaps we can have a chat one day, Lady Isabel, and you can tell me of your adventure with the bandits. My son Lothar tells me it is quite a tale.”
When Isabel looked back, she saw that the queen’s smile had become stiff and it no longer reached her eyes. As they moved on, they passed by Lothar, who leaned toward Isabel and whispered, “The ballad shall be called the Song of Isabel.”
Pulling Chetwynd along, Isabel rushed away from the crowd of spectators who all seemed to be smiling in her direction. “Did you hear that?” she whispered to him. “The queen claims I helped her in her darkest hour, when in fact we fled in the night. The king thinks I had an adventure with bandits, and Lothar makes a jest about a ballad. Their view of me seems far from reality.”
“At court, stories have a life of their own, and they can change as they are repeated. Your presence is a breath of fresh air, and everyone likes that, especially me.”
Chetwynd steered her around a pillar and out of public view and then took her into his arms. “You are indeed brave and clever and incredibly arousing. If someone isn’t already composing a ballad about you, they should do so.”
“Don’t you start talking about a ballad.”
He kissed her nose. “I will be hearing soon where my next assignment takes me, and I don’t wish to miss a minute of the time we have left together. Why don’t we return to our bedchamber and test your delicate condition.”
Isabel grinned at her golden-haired champion. “I’d like that, my lord.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born in New Haven, CT, in April 1935, Ida Curtis grew up in a small town near Hartford, CT. After marriage, she and her husband raised a family of two children, moving around the United States as his academic career dictated, living for the longest period in Vancouver, British Columbia. After retirement, they moved to Seattle to be near their son and daughter. Based on a handbook written by a ninth-century widow of a wealthy landowner to educate her sons, Song of Isabel captures what life was like for a young noblewoman of that period
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SELECTED TITLES FROM SHE WRITES PRESS
She Writes Press is an independent publishing company founded to serve women writers everywhere. Visit us at www.shewritespress.com.
A Girl Like You: A Henrietta and Inspector Howard Novel by Michelle Cox. $16.95, 978-1-63152-016-7. When the floor matron at the dance hall where Henrietta works as a taxi dancer turns up dead, aloof Inspector Clive Howard appears on the scene—and convinces Henrietta to go undercover for him, plunging her into Chicago’s gritty underworld.
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After Midnight by Diane Shute-Sepahpour. $16.95, 978-1-63152-913-9. When horse breeder Alix is forced to temporarily swap places with her estranged twin sister—the wife of an English lord—her forgotten past begins to resurface.
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