‘So, you helped save another’s life just as I once saved yours? Interesting and, I must say, highly commendable.’
This was not something she wished to discuss with anyone—her motives to learn about healing others.
‘Put me down, Sir William.’ She wriggled around in his arms so much that he dropped her unceremoniously to the ground.
‘Forgive me.’ His eyes sparkled with mild amusement. ‘I am only doing my duty and, as I said to you this morning, I am not the villain you take me for.’
She smoothed down her skirts and stood up. ‘What, then? I suppose you think of yourself as the daring hero you once were?’
The amusement faded from his eyes. ‘That remains to be seen, but for now you and I must talk about how we are to break through this impasse.’
She shut her eyes momentarily, hoping that once she reopened them, she would be back in her warm bed and this would all be a dream. ‘That’s easy for you to say, Sir William, but you are not the one being forced to do something you have no desire to do.’
She started to walk away, but he caught her arm. ‘Trust me, my lady, there have been many things in my life that I had no desire to do, but I was still duty bound to do them.’
She tilted her head and studied him. What had he meant? There was definite anger and sadness in his words and Isabel wasn’t the type of person who would take satisfaction from anyone’s misery.
Again, she wondered what had happened to William Geraint all this time? What had happened to make him so impervious, mocking and detached? Now and again, a glimmer of humour would flicker in his eyes, but it was so fleeting that she wondered whether she had imagined it.
The man must have realised that he’d revealed something about himself that he hadn’t meant to. He let go of her and took a step back, looking away.
Isabel watched him, allowing the silence to extend, before expelling a heavy sigh.
‘What now, Sir William?’ she said quietly. ‘I take it you will still insist on dragging me back to England?’
‘I’m afraid I must, my lady.’ He leant back, and crossed his arms.
‘Tell me, what have you to gain by this mission?’ She frowned. ‘But, oh...oh, how foolish of me. Of course, you’re getting coin for finding and taking me back, are you not, Sir William?’
He looked slightly embarrassed. ‘I would be lying if I were to contradict you, but understand this, Lady Isabel. I had... I have always wondered what had happened to you.’ He moved a little closer to her and shrugged, reminding her of the boy who had rescued her. ‘And I had always prayed that you fared well, despite the terrible brutality of that night all those years ago.’
As I did of you... she thought wistfully, meeting his gaze. The moonlight gave his eyes such a luminous clarity that Isabel felt herself staring for longer than necessary. Longer than she should.
He coughed, clearing his throat. ‘But now that I have found you, and in good health, I find that I am puzzled by your refusal to acknowledge who you are.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Care to explain, my lady?’
And just like that, the moment between them was broken.
‘Not especially, no.’
‘Every woman I found tried to convince me that they were Lady Isabel de Clancey, yet you did the opposite. Why?’
‘Has anyone ever told you how belligerent and annoying you are?’
Sir William grinned, setting her teeth on edge. ‘Yes, quite a few. But you didn’t answer me. Tell me...please.’
She opened her mouth to explain it all. Explain the conflicted emotions she felt regarding her real family. How she feared their disapproval and rejection...again. And also, the deep sense of trepidation and dread she felt in her bones about the prospect of going back home. Her eyes dropped to the pendant hanging around his neck. She frowned, trying to remember something from the past, but gave her head a shake. This was not William Geraint’s concern. Her feelings and her muddled memory were inexplicable, even to her.
‘I can’t,’ she whispered.
He nodded, in apparent sympathy. ‘What you went through could not have been easy, my lady. I can understand that.’
‘You can?’
‘Yes, but think of your poor mother, after everything she has endured.’
‘What do you, mean?’ she said slowly. ‘What has my mother endured, Sir William?’
‘My lady, I...’ he said, dragging his fingers through his hair impatiently as he exhaled. ‘Please, let me escort you back to your mother.’
Isabel stared blankly, her mind reeling.
What had happened to her family? What had her docile and deferential mother endured all these years? Isabel had only considered her own feelings regarding everything that had happened. She had known from the day William Geraint had rescued her that she must do everything she could to survive. But she had never once thought that her family might have fared worse than her in the years since she had seen them. Her father might have been out of favour with King John, but that didn’t mean that anything had befallen her family...did it?
Guilt suddenly coursed through her now as a long-ago abandoned emotion pulled inside her chest with such force that it both surprised and pained her.
He was not telling her, but she could only guess. Her mother was alive, but what had happened to the rest of her family?
She swallowed, looking at him, her eyes wide. ‘What has happened, Sir William?’ she whispered in the quiet of the night. ‘What has happened to them?’
He couldn’t look her in the eyes, but she knew...she somehow knew what he was about to say. ‘I’m so sorry to be the one to have to tell you, my lady, but your father...your brothers...’
‘They’re dead...aren’t they?’ She sat on the small bench near the path, her unsteady legs unable to support her any longer.
‘I’m afraid so, my lady.’ He threw her an anxious look. ‘You are now the sole heiress of your family’s title, wealth and vast domain.’
Isabel felt numb, void of any feelings. She searched her feelings and, while she felt regret, there was little more that she felt for the loss of her father...but her brothers?
Oh, God...
‘This explains the necessity of my expedient return. Do you...do you know how they...?’
‘I don’t know about your brothers, but your father died by accident when he fell from his horse.’
An accident?
‘I see.’
Somehow, she had always been anticipating something as awful as this happening. But she had never thought her father or her brothers would be the ones to fall.
Sir William sat beside her and covered her hand with his, giving it a squeeze of reassurance. ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ he said quietly.
They sat beside each other for a long moment. The breeze whipped through the air and caused the leaves of her favourite oak tree to rustle and dance in the night sky.
She broke the silence. ‘Thank you, by and by.’
‘For what?’
‘Saving my life. I have always meant to say that and now I can finally do so in person.’
‘You did by giving me this, remember?’ he said, wrapping his hand around the pendant and pulling it out from under his tunic.
‘Yes,’ she whispered, ‘that I remember.’ Her memory of the pendants made her feel uneasy. It could be another reason why she had given something so precious to Will in gratitude all those years ago.
He studied her for a moment. ‘What is it you’re afraid of, my lady?’
‘Everything.’
‘Well, I want you to know that I will protect you while we journey back. You have nothing to fear.’
She blinked and looked back at the pendant around his neck. ‘Do you propose to save my life again?’
‘If I must. Who knows, you may end up saving me this time,’ he said with a ghost of a
smile. ‘But know this, Lady Isabel, I shall be ready for any eventuality...as will you.’
She wanted so much to believe him.
There were too many things she just didn’t understand. Her memories from that time in her life were broken into bits that had to be pieced back together again, if she were to make sense of it.
But for some inexplicable reason Isabel felt that, somehow, it had to do with the identical silver and ruby pendants...
Her mother had told her that the pendant would bring her protection, so Isabel had chosen to give that to her rescuer. She had almost forgotten about its existence—until William Geraint’s sudden appearance back in her life.
No, she wasn’t ready for any of this.
Chapter Four
Will and Isabel had been travelling on horseback for many long hours. Though for Will it might as well have been an eternity, since the duration had passed with barely a word spoken between them.
They had meandered through on the outskirts of St Jean de Cole, through open sun-drenched fields and eventually entered the woodland that would provide a welcome relief during the day with its tall canopy of contrasting trees, thickets and cool streams. The route for their journey back was fairly straightforward. They would need to navigate their way a little north before eventually riding west towards La Rochelle. But it would take over ten nights before they reached the port.
Heaven help him!
Will could understand Isabel’s confusion, empathise with her situation and certainly share her misery, but, by God, he wished for some light discourse to break the heavy silence. Anything that would help make the journey pass a little easier.
It hadn’t helped that Will felt strangely responsible, once again, for Isabel’s brooding melancholy. No wonder she had found it difficult saying goodbye to her old life, clearly wishing she could somehow cling on to it.
The endless farewells with Isabel’s adopted family, the wise woman and the many well-wishers from the village had, in itself, been emotionally draining. It had been obvious to Will that Isabel was not only attached to the village, but also to its people, and was still circumspect about the prospect of becoming Lady Isabel de Clancey once more, despite his assurances.
The only smile of gratitude Will had earned from Isabel was when she had thanked him for the assistance he had provided for her friend, Ralph. Will had offered information about whose banner he had most likely served under before his attack, judging from the motifs Ralph had remembered and put to parchment in ink. That exchange had been brief, however, and they had quickly descended back to an awkward silence.
Damn...
There was a time when Will knew exactly what to say to a woman to put her at ease, make her smile or even laugh heartily.
He could flirt, flatter, compliment and humour any given woman with a courtly verse or meaningful gesture. But no more. That side of his personality no longer existed and he hadn’t wanted it to, anyway. Not until now—riding beside Isabel. He wished he could say something that would make her snap out of her disheartened manner, but could think of nothing.
And it hadn’t helped that they had begun the journey with a disagreement about something as simple as engaging a handmaid to accompany them. Isabel had flatly refused, arguing that it would be highly embarrassing to employ someone from St Jean de Cole. She couldn’t understand why she would need one anyway. But she definitely did and it struck Will that, again, Lady Isabel seemed to have difficulty in accepting who she was. He must broach the subject once more, reiterating the importance of having someone attend to her. Surely she would now see how necessary that was for someone of her rank?
Will turned his head towards Isabel. ‘We’ll be nearing the village of St Romaine later today and I thought that we could possibly look for a woman who’d be happy to be your handmaid, if that meets with your approval.’
Isabel kept her gaze steadily forward, refusing to meet his eyes. ‘I had hoped that this topic of conversation had ended.’
‘Whereas I had hoped that you would now see sense in what I advised earlier, my lady.’
‘It seems my assumptions about you have been correct, Sir William. You are belligerent—extremely so.’
‘I aim to please.’ He inclined his head a fraction, earning a scowl.
‘That,’ she said wryly, ‘is a blessing, Sir William. But as I said to you before, I’m sure that I cannot be comfortable having a handmaid accompany my every move.’
‘But I’m sure that I shall, Lady Isabel.’
‘Are you suggesting that I cannot trust you or, dare I say it, feel safe with just your esteemed company?’
‘No, that is not what I am saying.’ Was the woman trying to put words into his mouth? ‘But I do believe that travelling with just a lone knight, however esteemed his company, may be not so desirable for someone of your standing.’
‘I see.’ She tilted her head to the side. ‘It would not do for a proper lady, like me. Is that what you mean?’
How had it come to this? Will had only wanted to make her understand their delicate situation, travelling together just the two of them. He had not meant to be the cause of her indignation, yet he felt compelled to explain more.
‘Precisely. I’m certain it would be what your family expects.’
She stiffened immediately. This was going from bad to worse.
‘The fact that I am returning to England should be good enough, really, Sir William.’ She bristled with barely concealed annoyance. ‘Please, let this be the end and talk no more of it. I have no need nor do I require a handmaid. I assure you I can manage on my own.’
‘As you wish, Lady Isabel.’
Will rubbed his brow and groaned inwardly. Had the woman no sense whatsoever? It was evident that she had not truly appreciated what he had tried to convey without stating it outright—that, since they were travelling closely together, it was not desirable for a young, impressionable, unworldly woman like Isabel de Clancey to have just his company for the long duration of their journey. He hadn’t fully appreciated the realities of this himself until the moment they had left St Jean de Cole when he was suddenly aware that he was with Isabel...alone.
Not that he had wanted this imposed closeness with the lady in question for such a journey. But what were the alternatives other than what he had already suggested and had been emphatically refused in return? At least he could perceive the complications and obstacles that might come their way. It would mean having to navigate through these unsolicited feelings of concern for Isabel, not to mention protecting her and a whole host of other things, as was his duty. And entertaining her, which was not.
If only Will had retained his faithful squire or, better still, could have successfully convinced Lady Isabel that she needed a damned handmaid, but there was no hope there.
God above, anything could happen!
Well, he would just make sure that nothing did and they’d have the most uneventful and tedious journey possible.
The woodland teemed with a diverse range of wildlife, trees, shrubbery and late-blooming clusters of deciduous wildflowers.
He led the way on his black destrier towards a stream he had passed on his way to St Jean de Cole, knowing it was a good place to stop for a moment and cool off.
‘We shall rest shortly and stretch our legs.’
‘Very well, Sir William, whatever you think is best.’
Will coughed, covering his mild amusement. That was not strictly true, since it was wholly dependent on the lady’s views on any given matter. He dismounted, tethering his horse to a nearby tree before striding towards Isabel to help her down.
‘I hope you are no longer angry with me, my lady?’
She turned around to face him as the confusion on her face slowly gave way to a sigh. ‘No, not with you, Sir William. That lies elsewhere.’
‘I am glad, otherwise I’d have to ap
ologise profusely for some unknown reason, despite your acknowledgement of my knowing best.’
‘Are you teasing me?’ she said, shaking her head.
‘Absolutely, although I must admit it has been a long time since I have teased anyone,’ he said, biting back a grin. ‘But frankly, I’d rather that than your wrath. It would make our travail unnecessarily difficult, don’t you think?’
‘Yes, it would, but I have to let you know that, despite appearances, I’m not a wrathful person.’
‘I’m sure you’re not,’ he said as he fetched a blanket from one of the saddlebags, while Isabel laid out the carefully wrapped parcels of sliced meat, small rounds of cheese and a large bunch of black grapes that she had prepared earlier.
‘Exactly. I save that for particularly belligerent sorts of knight,’ she said with a small smile.
‘Well, I am glad that I’m not one of those either,’ he said, popping a grape into his mouth.
‘Of course not. You’re the sort who knows best.’ Her smile deepened as she turned her head and met his eyes.
‘Naturally.’ He had forgotten this. Forgotten how he could harness and use humour to break through someone’s defences, and make them briefly leave their woes behind. ‘It’s good to see you smile, my lady.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, softly. ‘I have had little to smile about of late.’
Will tore one of the rolls and offered her half. ‘I know, Lady Isabel, I know.’
His fingertips grazed hers as he passed her the bread and the shock of touching, however transient, sent a regrettable frisson through him. He ignored it and continued eating before lifting his head and forcing a smile he knew didn’t reach his eyes.
‘Tell me something, Sir William, if you don’t mind me asking,’ she said, taking bite out of the roll topped with a wedge of cheese. ‘Why did you imply just now that you are not a knight?’
Her Banished Knight's Redemption--The follow-up to award-winning story the Rebel Heiress and the Knight Page 5