“Regardless of the inevitable assumption that we will be married, I want to marry you. I had days, weeks really, to consider this. I never imagined I would marry. I never wanted to until I met you. I find that I have all sorts of notions that I never dreamed of before meeting you. My only question is whether you can overlook me being a landless knight.”
“I don’t want to spend my life at court, but if this is your new home, then it is where I wish to stay.”
“And if I am not invited to remain?”
“Did you lose?”
Ric chuckled at Isa’s practical approach. Her earnest expression told him that she already assessing their options.
“No, we did not lose. We have not returned in disgrace, even if it was rather anticlimactic.”
Isa’s eyebrows shot up as she lips pursed in dismay. Ric had never seen an expression of both shock and disdain that was as adorable as Isa’s. He chuckled again, but Isa dug her elbow into his rib.
“It’s not funny. Anticlimactic means you came home in one piece. I like anticlimactic.”
“I know, my sweet, but after days of slogging about in the rain and mud, it was rather frustrating to have done so with nothing to show for it.”
“Did you not succeed in defeating the English? You said you didn’t lose.”
“I don’t know that defeat is the word. We chased them off.”
“Isn’t that the best thing that could happen? Lives saved and the English gone.”
“Unfortunately, no. It just means they live another day to harry the Scots or to build their armies.”
“So you didn’t fight at all?” Isa wished she had let the matter drop when she saw a cloud cross Ric’s face, and he seemed to withdraw before her eyes. She placed her hand over his heart, concern on her face. Ric covered her hand before bringing it to his lips. He kissed the back before placing it over his heart and pressing it against his chest.
“We did fight once. I faced off against my mentor, the man who presented me with my spurs. He was more like a father to me than any other man since my actual father died.”
“Ric,” Isa’s voice was little more than the puff of air that escaped.
“I didn’t kill him. I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t allow anyone else to. We spared him, and I sent him home. But I wonder now if that was still a death sentence. One that will be far crueler than dying in battle. Edward will cry foul and cast Geoffrey out in disgrace. My former friend may lose his lands, if not his life. His heir could be stripped of his inheritance and left with nothing. I fear for him, but I could not kill him.”
“Ric, I’m sorry.” Isa rested her head against his shoulder as they stood together, once more forgetting that anyone else existed but them. Ric kissed her forehead and welcomed the moral support that he realized only Isa could offer.
“I think we had better talk,” King Robert’s presence forced them apart once more. “I believe there are papers that will need to be drafted and banns read sharpish.”
Robert clapped his hand on Ric’s shoulder and squeezed to the point where Ric wanted to wince, but ground his teeth instead.
“Until the evening meal, my lady,” Ric bowed and followed the king into the keep.
Isa looked around, once more alone as the families of the warriors gathered to greet their returning heroes. Her friends were engrossed with their husbands, and each couple made their way back into the keep. Isa was certain of their destinations. She felt out of place yet again, so she decided to return to the library where she could work until it was time to prepare for the evening meal.
The king summoned Isa to his Privy Council chamber before the evening meal, and she felt her hands grow clammy as the doors were opened for her to pass through. Her skirts had barely cleared the entry when the door slammed shut behind her. Her gaze riveted to Ric, who wore a fresh surcoat and leggings, and she was positive she saw water droplets on the ends of his hair. Ric moved toward her, ignoring the king’s throat clearing and the tsks of several of the king’s advisors. He offered her his arm, and they approached the king together.
“I understand you already possess Sir Dedric’s signet ring. He was unable to finish signing the betrothal documents without it.”
Isa swallowed as she listened to the king announce her impending marriage. She looked toward a table that had various parchments scattered across it, and she wondered if any of them were the documents that would bind them just as tightly as a church service.
“I do, Your Majesty,” she responded when she was convinced her voice would not betray her nervousness. She slid the ring from her thumb and held it up before handing it to Ric.
“Then I believe everything is in order for you to sign. You can be wed in the morning.”
Isa coughed before turning a concerning shade of red. Ric swept her off her feet and growled at several courtiers who did not leap to offer their seats on a bench to them. He settled Isa on his lap with complete disregard once again to propriety.
“Are you well?” Ric’s voice barely hid the panic that struck as he watched Isa’s face and neck flush. He had hoped to tell Isa about the king’s demand that they marry immediately, but he had not been given the opportunity.
“Tomorrow?” she squeaked. She cleared her throat before attempting to speak again. “How can we marry so soon? The banns haven’t even been read once.”
Ric tucked hair behind Isa’s ear as he prepared himself for what he anticipated would be a displeased reaction.
“The king decided to forego the church’s requirement and order our marriage to happen post-haste. In exchange for your hand, he has granted me the title to land within your clan’s territory. I will serve the king as one of his border lords, protecting your clan and mine from the English.”
Isa sat and listened to Ric as he explained that the king had already informed her father, having sent a missive the moment Ric and the others left. Her father had already responded and signed the betrothal documents. The banns had already been read twice, but the king would absolve them of waiting until they had been read thrice. She closed her eyes as she listened to her life take a drastic turn with decisions already made for her. She was not surprised that her marriage had been arranged with no say from her; however, she was surprised at the speed with which things were progressing. By sundown the next day, she would be wedded and possibly even bedded. The last thought made her lip twitch with a smile that attempted to break through.
“What’s making you smile after all this?” Ric wondered.
“Naught. Go on. When will we leave?”
“Before the end of the week. The king has agreed to grant us a few days here after the wedding to prepare for our new positions and home.”
Positions? Home? Bloody hell. He’s right. That means I’m going to be the lady of a keep where I may not know a soul beyond sharing the same surname.
Isa’s mind began to tick with lists and plans in preparation for their departure.
“Slow down, my sweet. You don’t have to plan our entire attack right this moment.” Ric kissed her cheek. “You can make your lists and plan in a couple of days. The keep we shall move to will not tumble down between now and then.”
“How did you know?”
“Because your mind works much the same as mine, and I have already planned the next six months of improvements, and I haven’t even seen the land yet.” Ric kissed her forehead once again. “Isa, this is moving very fast. What do you want?”
“You.” Isa gasped at her frank and thoughtless response, but Ric pulled her closer to whisper in her ear.
“And you shall have me. Over and over and then over again. But not until you are ready. I will not rush you or push you to do anything you don’t want or don’t feel ready for.”
Isa felt a rock settle in her stomach.
“Do you not want to marry me? Or do you want a marriage in name only?”
Ric’s flabbergasted expression made Isa relax, but she was still did not understand his sudden reversal.
“Isa, we most certainly will not have a marriage in name only. I don’t know that I could survive it. I want you to feel comfortable and safe with me, and I don’t want you to feel rushed. Your desires matter to me, and if you do not desire making love, I will never force you. Once we are wed, we have a lifetime together.”
Isa would not allow herself to read too much into him referring to their coupling as making love. She knew it would only break her heart later.
“Except for the bedding ceremony,” she responded.
Ric’s mouth set into a thin, hard line. Isa felt the muscles in his thighs contract underneath her backside. His hands clamped onto her waist.
“There is not a man alive who will see you without your clothing unless that man is me. And I will not have anyone watch me make love to my wife. Ever.”
“What of other women seeing you without clothing?”
“Why would they?” Ric appeared truly baffled.
“I’m sure you’ve had ladies of the castle bathe you. What about after we are wed and you travel without me?” Isa held her breath knowing that she was overstepping her bounds questioning her future husband about his intentions to be faithful.
“Where would I travel without you? If I’m not riding out to fight, why would I go anywhere without you? And why would I have a woman bathe me when I have a squire to ensure I have everything I need or better yet, you?”
“You mean you don’t have women assist you with your bath now?”
“Not since I was seven.”
Isa’s mouth formed a perfect circle as she realized he meant that no woman had bathed him since his mother died. Ric looked at Isa’s raspberry lips and could not keep his mind from picturing those same lips wrapped around his cock. He had managed to keep his manhood only semi-aroused while she sat on his lap, but now his rod screamed for attention.
“Isa, stop making that face,” his hoarse whisper scratched his throat. At her look of confusion, he shut his eyes before speaking again. “You are making me picture things, things between us, that I have no right to.”
“No right? But aren’t we to be wed tomorrow? Then won’t you have all the right?”
Ric groaned as she shifted to look at him more closely.
“The things I’m thinking of are not fit for a lady.”
“Then I think that’s exactly what I’d like to learn to do.”
“Isa,” he hissed. He could not believe his ears.
“If what you’re imagining is something you would like, then I would rather it be with me than someone else.”
Her final comment was a bucket of cold water over Ric’s head.
“Isa, there will never be a someone else.” Ric entwined their fingers together. “I will always be faithful to you. I will not stray. Ever. My honor would not allow it, and I don’t think my heart would either.”
Before Isa could respond, the queen swept into the chamber and marched directly to the couple.
“Lady Isabella, I understand you are to be wed to this young man tomorrow, but you are not wed yet. Do you realize you are seated on the man’s lap and in front of half the king’s Privy Council? Come along.”
The queen spun around and glided back to the door where she waited without looking back. Isa scrambled off of Ric’s legs but not before giving him a peck on the cheek.
“Tonight,” she whispered, leaving Ric to nod and wonder what his plucky bride meant.
Chapter Thirteen
Isa sat through one poem after another in the queen’s salon, but her mind drifted, just as it had for the past few weeks. This time, she dreamed of the wedding that would take place the next day. Her practical nature kept her from imagining anything lavish, but she hoped that Ric would find her pretty and be as happy about the nuptials as she found herself. She imagined herself as the lady of a keep. She had been raised to know that one day she would marry, and her position as a laird’s daughter ensured she would marry a man of similar stature. Her mother had trained her for years to manage and run a large household, and she knew she was prepared to do so, but to imagine her own keep was exciting and nerve-wracking enough to give her butterflies in her stomach. She would not admit to anyone else, but she was picturing the wedding night as well. She viewed it with equal parts curiosity and trepidation. She understood the mechanics and had overheard, even overseen, couples to know that it could be highly enjoyable for both people. Isa just was not certain if she would enjoy it.
She knew she desired Ric, her body aching for him whenever they were apart and practically going up in flames whenever he was near, but she wondered if she would find the actual act pleasurable. She also worried about whether she would please Ric. She believed his pledge that he intended to be faithful, but the image of the beautiful Englishwoman niggled in the back of her mind. If it was not the woman from Ric’s past, then she worried about the women in the future, even at court. Isa was not blind to the reaction Ric created in women, and while she wanted to gloat that he chose her, she was not confident that it would remain that way always. Isa was not so sheltered as to believe wedding vows were a vow of fidelity. She knew plenty of lairds who kept lemans, and there were hordes of mistresses at court. She wondered how soon they could leave for their own keep.
“Lady Isabella, are you lost in thought about your handsome groom?”
Isa had not seen Queen Elizabeth approach until she stood beside Isa’s seat. Isa rose and demurely nodded.
“I can understand why. Your knight is a handsome and brave man, but be that as it may, he is a blessed man to have found such a special bride.”
Isa’s head shot up as she looked in the queen’s eyes. She had never received such a compliment from the woman, and she was not certain what prompted it.
“Isa,” Elizabeth dropped her voice. “You were raised along the border, so you know the challenges you will face. Being the lady of the keep, even if it is a smaller one, during a raid will require determination and levelheadedness that most of my young ladies-in-waiting do not possess. Watching your husband ride out on a mission or to battle never gets any easier, but you have the constitution to carry on even during the most trying of times. Don’t underestimate yourself. The king would not have approved the marriage, nor given Sir Dedric the land, if he did not believe you both were up to the task.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Isa dipped into a curtsy as the older woman took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Marriage in these trying times is no easy feat, but I know that you can stay the course, no matter the obstacle.”
Isa prayed the queen was right. She knew life along the border would not be easy, and while she missed living among her clan, she did not miss the ever-present threat and danger. As the ladies followed the queen to the evening meal, Isa wondered if she would even see Ric that evening. She had questions she hoped to ask about their travel and their destination. She was yet to learn which of the keeps the king had granted Ric, and it made her curious whether it was one her father would willingly relinquish, even if it was to his daughter and her husband.
As they arrived at the Great Hall, Isa spotted Ric waiting against one of the walls in the passageway. He pushed away when he saw her and offered his arm as she approached. They entered the Great Hall together, but Isa was prepared to release him and follow the other ladies to their table.
“Not any longer,” he murmured. When Isa looked up at him, he shook his head and steered her toward a table with other married courtiers. She wanted to cringe until she looked further down and noticed the Sinclairs and the Bruces. She relaxed when she realized that she could once more sit with Elizabeth, Deirdre, and Ceit. Isa watched as the couples defied custom with husband and wife sitting next to one another rather than across. As they settled onto the benches, Isa blushed as the husbands wrapped their arms around their wives, and the wives slipped their hands along their husbands’ thighs. Isa knew she could not be that brazen without being married first, but she looked forward to when she could.<
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The meal began soon after they were seated, and Ric took her hand beneath the table. They shared a trencher and a chalice, and Ric ensured the best selection was placed on Isa’s portion of the trencher before his was filled. He offered her the first sip every time their chalice was refilled.
“The wedding will be during the noon Mass, with a feast to follow,” Ric’s soft tone carried only to Isa’s ears. She nearly choked to hear that she would be married during the midafternoon service. She had not expected it to be held so early in the day. “I would marry you at vespers if permitted.”
Isa tilted her head to look at Ric, and his irrepressible grin sent a shiver through her. As his shoulder brushed against hers, her gaze swept around the room to see if anyone watched them. She saw a few glances their way, but no one appeared to be paying them any extra attention. She released the hand she held and slid her palm along Ric’s thigh. She bit her lip as she tested Ric’s response and her own brazenness. She surprised herself, but then she remembered how she had welcomed Ric’s kiss when she barely knew who he was. They were to marry after knowing each other only a handful of weeks. She had thrown caution to the wind already, so she saw little reason to suddenly grow shy.
“I would marry you then too, but I wouldn’t want a feast immediately after.”
Isa watched a wolfish glint enter Ric’s eyes as his own hand rested high on her inner thigh.
“I know precisely what I would feast upon, and no, it would not be in here.”
Isa had no idea how to respond beyond a slight nod, but she found herself gripping his leg with fingers like a vice. She relaxed them and thought to pull them away, but Ric’s hand covered hers. “It is the sweetest torture,” he murmured.
They were not given the opportunity to continue their hushed conversation as Magnus, Tavish, and Edward drew Ric into the conversation while the wives gave her a sympathetic smile. Soon after, the tables were pushed aside, and the musicians tuned their instruments. Ric looked forward to holding Isa in his arms, but he loathed the idea of seeing her dance with another man. He felt his ire rise as he realized she had undoubtedly danced with any number of other men while he was away.
A Spy at the Highland Court Page 13