“He no longer seems to care for her, so I am not concerned.”
Isabel’s heart plunged.
“I hope you are right, but that is not what he said during my last conversation with him.”
Mary made no answer, but Isabel imagined her glowering at the man. “Leave me, John. I am exhausted from yesterday’s journey.”
Isabel flew to the door, and as Lesley exited Mary’s chamber, she pretended to be entering. “Bishop.” He acknowledged her with a nod and brushed past without speaking. Isabel completed her task quickly, hoping Mary would not emerge from behind the screen. Once back in her own chamber, Bel curled up in the cushioned window seat and mulled over what she’d heard. Lesley seemed to be threatening the queen, who was unhappy at the advancement of this scheme. Were they coercing her to go along with it? Judging from Mary’s questions and responses to Lesley, they were. Considering all she’d heard, Isabel believed it was the men, Lesley and Norfolk, who were making the decisions, forcing the queen to become their unwilling partner.
Odd, when Isabel thought about it, because when Mary had revealed the plan to her, she’d seemed in favor of it. What had changed? Perhaps she’d simply had more time to consider the arguments for and against.
After a light midday meal, Philip announced the men were venturing into the forest to find a Yule log. If they wished, the ladies could join them. The sun had reappeared, and although it was frosty outside, Isabel thought it would do her good to get out. She stopped by the queen’s chamber to ask if she wished to accompany them. Aimee sat at her mending and nodded toward the screened area. Isabel rapped lightly to get Mary’s attention and asked her question.
“Non, merci, Bel. I am not feeling well enough. But will you take Bisou? He needs the exercise.” The little dog scurried around the screen and plopped down at Bel’s feet, waiting.
“Are you sure, Your Majesty? The out of doors may do you good.”
“I am sure.” And that was the end of it.
“Come, little friend,” Isabel said. “You, at least, will have the benefit of the sun and fresh air.”
The size of their party had increased, and Isabel assumed the newly arrived men and ladies were guests of the Earl of Shrewsbury and his wife. They were all acquainted with one another and with Mary’s ladies. Isabel was the only one who did not know the newcomers. In time, she supposed she would be introduced to them. Frances hung back from the group and walked with Isabel. “What do you think of our new residence, Bel?” she asked.
Isabel smiled. “I like it very much. It is warmer, there are no foul odors—yet—and we each have our own chamber. Compared to Tutbury, it seems a virtual paradise.”
Frances laughed. “Aye. ’Tis more comfortable, indeed.”
“Who are the guests? I have not been introduced.”
“Oh. I assumed you knew. Dorothy’s husband, Walter Vere, and his sister, Jane. Also Alice’s husband, Henry Alymer, and their friend Anne Ramsay.”
Isabel could not hide her astonishment. Two of the women bouncing from bed to bed with various men were married? Never had she considered this. At her shocked expression, Frances laughed. “Taking lovers is very common, Bel. It is an accepted practice among ladies of the higher classes. Why should they not do so when their husbands bed other women?”
Did John Lesley have a wife?
“Another reason not to wed,” Isabel said, causing Frances to laugh even harder. “Truly, what is the point?”
“To bear children, of course,” was the answer.
“But how can they know who the father is?”
Frances smirked. “Sometimes they do not. Usually the husband raises whatever child is born to his wife as his own. Speaking of husbands, where is Gavin? Why is he not here?”
“Gavin is not my husband!”
“But perhaps he will be one day,” Frances said slyly.
“Nay, you are much mistaken. He—he had an errand near Derby, after which he intended to ride to Sheffield. That is the extent of my knowledge.” Handing over a dead youth to his mother should hardly be termed an errand, but Isabel preferred not to discuss any of what Gavin had told her with Frances. Bisou chose that moment to bound after a hare, and Isabel excused herself to hurry after him. It wouldn’t do to lose the queen’s beloved pet. And she was glad to escape Frances’s questions.
“Bisou!” When she did not immediately see him, she lifted her skirts and picked up her pace. On the little dog’s trail, she was reversing back toward the outer wall of the castle. “Bisou! Ici!” Off in the distance, she heard laughs and shouts of the party searching for the perfect Yule log. But within her, everything had stilled. Gavin was riding over the drawbridge and through the entrance, quite alone, his slumped posture revealing the level of his exhaustion.
…
After carrying out his sad duty and making sure Simon’s family had the necessary resources to get through the winter, Gavin wasted no time in riding to Sheffield. He wanted, needed, to see Isabel and make sure she was all right. He took Lesley’s comment as a tangible threat—he would be a fool not to, given everything that had happened.
Riding over the drawbridge, he felt a great sense of relief, and at the same time, an encroaching exhaustion he could no longer fight. And then he thought he heard Isabel’s voice. She was calling for Mary’s dog. He twisted in the saddle and glimpsed her just outside the outer curtain wall. She waved to him while the little dog scampered about her feet. Smiling, he held up a hand in greeting, and a feeling that he’d come home enveloped him. Wherever Isabel was, was home.
That was a shocking thought. And yet it had become a fundamental truth. But before he could seek her out, he needed to bathe and sleep. He hadn’t rested for more than a few hours since he’d been away. He could not present himself to Isabel looking and feeling like a beggar from the streets of London. Fortunately, he’d no cause to report to Shrewsbury, because his absence had nothing to do with their chief concerns.
After his few hours with Simon’s family, Gavin had ridden back to Derby and found a jeweler. He explained what he wanted and waited while the man made a few changes to the piece Gavin had chosen. Now, he patted his pocket to make sure it was there, wrapped in its small velvet bag. Sometime during Christmastide, he would give it to Isabel.
Gavin bathed, and Barnaby trimmed his hair and beard. After asking the servant to wake him by six, he fell into a troubled sleep. When he entered the hall near seven o’clock, it was a scene of great merriment, with many more people milling about than he expected. Had the earl invited the whole damn neighborhood? Gavin didn’t like it. There was no way of determining who was friend or foe. A Yule log was burning on the expansive hearth, putting out plenty of smoke. Everyone’s eyes and lungs would be burning before long. Looking around, he spied Isabel with a few of the ladies. They were weaving wreaths and kissing boughs, from the looks of it. She did not glance up.
Somebody tapped him on the shoulder and he turned. “Cade, well met,” Shrewsbury said. Gavin could tell from his eyes he was far into his cups.
“My lord. This is quite a party.” Gavin made a sweeping gesture. “Who are all these…guests?”
“Ha! Husbands, in-laws, friends. Don’t know them all. Zounds, does it matter, man?”
It does, you idiot.
Gavin wanted to argue the matter, but what would be the point? Shrewsbury was drunk to the point of slurred words and unsteady legs. He turned his gaze toward Isabel, and this time she looked up at him. Her eyes were cold, their icy daggers directed squarely at him. But when he tried to excuse himself, the earl held him back.
“M’wife thinks I’m sleeping with the queen, Cade. What do you make of that?”
The man was drunk, so Gavin didn’t bother guarding his tongue. “Are you?”
Shrewsbury sputtered. “I vow I’m not! We are thrown together a great deal, and the woman flirts. No denying she’s a beauty. But I love Bess.” He looked so sorrowful, Gavin regretted his question. “She’s banned me from her be
d, devil take it.”
“I’m sorry for it, my lord. Give her time, and she’ll get over it. And stay away from Mary as much as possible.” Shrewsbury looked as though he might keel over, so Gavin helped him to a chair. “Perhaps you should retire, sir.”
The earl waved him away. “Go. I know it’s the Tait lass you wish to talk to, not me.”
True enough. Gavin made his way toward Isabel. Cecily whispered something to her, but instead of glancing up, she steadily worked on. By the time he reached her, both Cecily and Alice had retreated, leaving the object of all his thoughts alone.
“Isabel,” he said, somewhat breathlessly.
At last she dropped the wreath to the table and looked up at him. “Gavin. You are back.”
He smiled. “Aye. I saw you as I came over the bridge earlier.”
She started to smile, then checked herself. What in hell was she angry about?
“May we speak in private, Bel? Somewhere away from this crowd. And the smoke.”
She seemed to be weighing his request, but at length she rose. Without exchanging a word with him, she led Gavin from the hall and outside into another building. After climbing a spiral stairway leading to the living area, they entered a chamber, a small but cozy one, with its own fireplace, window, and a tester bed with its curtains tied back. She had brought him to her private chamber. Should he read anything into that?
“I have my own stairs,” Isabel said. “What do you think of that?”
“Very impressive. What did you do to deserve such an honor?”
She laughed, relieving some of the tension between them. “Nothing. I was assigned the smallest chamber, and the stairs happened to be here, along the outside wall. I believe they were meant for servants at one time.”
They’d barely crossed the threshold when Gavin said, “Isabel, why are you angry with me?”
A faint blush bloomed on her cheeks. He’d flustered her. “I-I’m not.”
“Aye, you are. Your eyes are full of it. What have I done?” When she didn’t answer, he took her arm and led her to the settle before the fireplace. A log was still burning, warming them and casting flickering light into the chamber.
“Pray, don’t be afraid to tell me what is upsetting you.”
She hesitated, then seemed to reach a decision. “Very well. I simply wondered why you did not come to me right away, after your return. Why you waited until tonight.”
Ah, she’d missed him then. He could not prevent a slow smile from breaking over his face.
“Do not look so smug, Master Cade,” she said. “You are treading on thin ice.”
At that, he laughed out loud, and after a moment, she joined him. “If you had seen me face-to-face, dear Isabel, you would have been quite happy to delay our reunion. I was covered in filth from my days on the road, and exhausted into the bargain. I required a bath, a shave, and most of all, sleep.”
She looked thoughtful, and he waited for her to speak. “It is only that I never know with you, Gavin. How things stand between us. One day you proclaim how dear I am to you, and the next you push me away, in word or deed. Sometimes both. Sometimes even at the same time. You cannot seem to make up your mind about me.”
She was not far off the mark. He had changed his mind more than once about Isabel. Not because he didn’t like her; on the contrary, he admired her keen intellect and gloried in her loveliness. A combination he found irresistibly alluring. No, it all had to do with Anna. He’d given her his love and trust, and she had betrayed him. To commit to another woman—well, it simply seemed too soon. And yet…he could no longer imagine life without Isabel. Without knowing he would see her. Be near her. Hold her.
He took her hand, caressed it, and said, “What if I told you I missed you every minute I was away? That I could not keep my mind on what I was doing, because you filled every nook and cranny of it. And of my heart. What if I told you I recalled everything we’d ever talked about, and it brought me a great deal of comfort during a dark time?”
Her eyes gleamed in the firelight, and she did not speak immediately. “I would be surprised. But happy.” She glanced shyly up at him, and he could bear it no longer. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her against him. “Bel, my darling, Bel. Kiss me, sweetheart.” He covered her mouth with his and she melted against him. Her lips were velvet and tasted of spiced wine. With an eagerness born of anticipation, he stroked her long, glossy hair while he gave himself over to kissing her more deeply, offering his tongue, taking hers into his mouth. Her skin was the epitome of soft. He ran his hand over her face, the alabaster column of her neck, her bosom, until finally, reason called him back from the brink.
“Isabel, we must stop. Not because I don’t want this. I need to talk to you about something, and we should not be absent for much longer.”
“But I—”
“Later, sweetheart. I’d like nothing better than to make love to you tonight. I’ve been dreaming of it for days. But what I have to say cannot wait.”
Eyes a bit glazed, she nodded. “Go ahead, then. Tell me.”
Before speaking, Gavin rose, opened the door, and checked the passage to make certain they were alone. When he was satisfied, he returned to her but remained standing. Earlier, he’d made up his mind to get straight to the point and convey the sense of urgency he felt without hedging. “We must leave Sheffield. You and I. As soon as an opportunity arises.”
Isabel shook her head. “But why?”
Realizing he may sound irrational to her, nevertheless, he had no choice but to plunge ahead. “I believe an attack on one or both of us is imminent. The safest course of action is to remove ourselves from danger.” He waited, studying her.
She simply stared at him for a moment without uttering a word. When she finally spoke, her words were measured. “Not long ago, I asked you what your true position was in service to Shrewsbury. You never answered me. Not directly. Will you tell me now?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Is it not obvious? I am working for men who serve the queen. Queen Elizabeth.”
“And what is your purpose?”
He should have known she wouldn’t let it go at that. This was Isabel, after all. “More than that I cannot say. I’ve told you too much as it is.”
“You have given me bits and pieces. It is difficult to put it all together.” When he did not speak, she sighed and said, “What has led you to draw this conclusion, Gavin? That we are in danger?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension. “Everything. Beginning with the attack at the river. Ending with Simon’s murder. And many other matters you do not know of.” He would rather not reveal Lesley’s direct threat to Isabel. It would frighten her. He’d prefer to simply keep a close watch on her.
“You believe Lesley was responsible for Simon’s death. But do you have proof?”
How much to tell her? He felt as if every jagged piece of the puzzle he shared with her endangered her further. Best to be vague. “I do.”
Was that vague enough?
“But you will not tell me what that is? Was it within those documents you mentioned to me?”
Frustrated, he got to his feet and began pacing. “The more you know, the greater the risk to you.” He paused mid-step and studied her. “They are on the offensive, Isabel. Lesley and his minions have shown they are not afraid to do what is necessary to have things their way.”
“I’m afraid if you cannot be more specific, then my answer is no. I won’t leave Sheffield. If I were to flee from this place, it would not be because of some vague threat which cannot even be explained to me.” She grasped his arm. “Do not forget, I am here at the invitation of Lady Shrewsbury, to act as one of the queen’s ladies. To simply run away from that duty, without even understanding why, is out of the question. I could be sent home, and I couldn’t bear that.”
“Returning to your home is so abhorrent to you? ’Tis better to risk your life?”
She shrugged. “I-I cannot explain
. Not now.”
He had not expected her to make this so difficult. Perhaps she merely needed time to think it through. He could grant her that, and in the meantime, prepare to leave. Devise a plan. He would force her to leave with him, if it came to that. Although the idea of an abduction was repugnant, if the danger became too great, he would do it. For now, backing off and allowing her to believe he was reconsidering seemed like the safest course.
He misliked it, but without further explanation, she would not agree. “Very well, Isabel. We shall carry on as usual. I will simply need to be vigilant. And so should you.”
A flicker of emotion lit her eyes, but he wasn’t sure what she was feeling. Disappointment that he had given in so easily? Or that he wouldn’t confide in her? He could not speculate, nor did he wish to. “We must return to the hall. We’ll be missed.”
Chapter Seventeen
Christmastide 1570
Christmas morning dawned fair, but with a deep chill across the land. Mary’s entourage, including Isabel, gathered in the hall and walked a short distance to the town for services.
Afterward, Isabel and the other ladies completed the wreaths and kissing boughs, adding holly, ivy, and berries. When they’d finished, they hung their handiwork around the queen’s living area. “We all know who Isabel wants to kiss under the bough,” Cecily said.
“Oh, you discovered my secret,” Isabel replied, deciding to give as good as she got. “That tall, well-built fellow who stands guard outside the queen’s door. What is his name? Alfred?”
It was common knowledge the man was one of Alice’s lovers, one whom she was particularly partial to. The women dissolved in laughter, all except Alice. Even Mary chortled.
It had been a difficult morning for Isabel. Even at services, she could think of little else but what had transpired between her and Gavin the previous night. She did not know what to make of his announcement that they should leave Sheffield. It irked her that he wouldn’t be more forthcoming about why he believed they should take such a drastic step. It was plain that Gavin didn’t trust her with the facts he’d uncovered. Perhaps she was being too hard on him, for she had no doubt that he cared about her and wished to keep her from harm. His revelation that thoughts of her had sustained him—and that he’d dreamed of making love to her—made her heart jump and her skin heat.
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