Isabella sighed sharply. “He is going to marry Isalyn,” she said, watching Barbara’s eyes widen. “I am sure he will tell you himself, but I am telling you now. He is marrying her and there is nothing you can do about it. All of your attempts to control him and to keep women away from him haven’t worked. He will find happiness in spite of you.”
Barbara’s hand went to her mouth in shock. “It is not true!”
“It is true,” Isabella insisted. “He is in Carlisle right now purchasing a few things for their wedding. You had better reconcile yourself to the fact that Tor is marrying again. If you do not, you will only incur his wrath.”
Barbara’s eyes started to fill with tears. “He does not love her,” she muttered. “He only loves Jane. I have heard him say he only loves Jane!”
Isabella could see that the woman was shaken, but she didn’t have any sympathy. “What he feels for Isalyn has nothing to do with Jane,” she said. “It does not affect his feelings for her. I am sure he will always love Jane, but he has a right to be happy again with a living, breathing wife. Why would you try and take that away from him?”
Barbara blinked, tears splattering. “He said… he said that he did not belong to anyone at the moment, but he soon would,” she said, more to herself than to Isabella. “This has happened so fast… Lady Isalyn… it is too fast. He meant her. This must not happen!”
With that, she stumbled away, rushing back towards the apartment block.
Isabella watched her go with concern. It was more emotion than she had ever seen from Barbara, speaking as if her heart were broken. As if, somehow, Tor had jilted her. To Isabella, it simply didn’t seem rational. Barbara didn’t seem rational in the least. As she stood there, watching Barbara rush off, Christian suddenly appeared beside her.
“Are you well?” he asked, his eyes on the retreating Barbara.
Isabella turned to the man. He was tensed up, ready to protect her.
But she still felt uneasy.
“I am,” she said. “She did not try to harm me in any way. She simply wanted to talk.”
“What about?”
Isabella sighed. “I’m not sure,” she said. “She thinks I hate her. I told her I do not hate her, but she does not have a good heart. Christian, she said something strange. She said that Tor only loves Jane and when I told her he was marrying Isalyn, she said it must not happen.”
Christian sighed heavily. “You told her about the betrothal?”
“She was going to find out sooner or later.”
Christian couldn’t argue with that. “True, I suppose,” he said. “But until Tor and the others return, stay where I can see you. Or go to your chamber and bolt the door. Will you please do that for me?”
Isabella nodded. “I will,” she said. “I want to stay out here in the sunshine for a little while. The walls of my chamber have been closing in around me all morning. I wish I’d gone to Carlisle, too.”
He smiled, patting her on the shoulder. “They’ll be back soon,” he said. “I mean, Fraser will be back soon.”
She looked at him sharply. “Why would you say that?”
He was looking at her, an annoying look like a taunting brother would give a sister. “Mayhap because that’s what you want to hear,” he said. “I saw the two of you talking last night at the feast. You have the man captivated, Bella.”
Isabella turned her nose up at him. “You think you’re so smart, Christian Hage,” she said. “I was supposed to be married only last week and now you have me married to someone else so soon?”
Christian scowled. “Who said anything about marriage?” he said. “But Fraser seems like a good man. You can have a nice, long betrothal before the marriage so people will not talk and say you flitted too soon from one man to another.”
She stuck her tongue out at him. “Go away, you big dolt,” she said. “I’m going to sit over by the keep and wait for Tor and Isalyn to return.”
“And Fraser.”
She took a swing at him but he laughed and easily ducked, darting off and leaving his cousin frustrated.
But she wasn’t really frustrated. Isabella grinned when Christian couldn’t see her, knowing the man was on to something but refusing to admit it.
Still, she would stay where he could see her.
Wandering over to a stone bench by the keep, her thoughts turned from Fraser back to Barbara. She was anxious to tell Tor about their conversation so the man could be prepared.
This must not happen!
Something told her that there was going to be trouble.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
When Tor and Isalyn returned from Carlisle, Isabella was waiting for them.
It was early afternoon and the clouds overhead were gathering and threatening more rain as the party left their horses in the outer bailey and made the trek to the inner bailey on foot. Isabella had been sitting in the intermittent sunshine on the stone bench next to the keep, with a direct view of the gatehouse, and the moment they passed through, she was up and moving swiftly for them.
Isalyn saw her first.
“I can hardly wait to show Isabella my dress,” she said. But then, she sobered a little. “You do not think it will upset her, do you? She was so recently supposed to marry and that was taken away from her. I do not want to make her sad.”
Tor could see his cousin heading in their direction, her braids lifting in the wind. “I think she would very much like to see your new things,” he said. “She is not a selfish girl. She would not begrudge you your happiness. You are happy, aren’t you?”
Isalyn gazed up at him, a smile playing on her lips. “Very much, my provincial knight,” she teased. “And you?”
“Very much, my reckless old bride.”
They laughed at each other as Isabella came near. “Stop looking so deliriously happy,” she snapped, though it was in good fun. “You two make me sick and I am certain it is only going to get worse.”
Tor snorted. “It will, I am positive,” he said. “What are you still doing here? I thought you were going home with your father.”
Isabella cocked an eyebrow. “He drank too much last night and is only now breaking his fast,” she said. “I do not think we will be leaving before tomorrow. Ronan is even worse. He is still in bed.”
Tor grinned. “Where is Uncle Blayth?”
“In his chamber,” Isabella said. “How was your visit to town?”
“Productive.”
Isabella looked around at the party, lugging heavy chests. “Where is Lord de Featherstone?”
“He chose to remain in Carlisle,” he said. “He sent Fraser back with us, however. You should be grateful.”
Isabella looked at him, her eyes narrowing when she saw that he was smirking. “I have no idea what you mean,” she said dismissively, but she quickly changed the subject and tucked her hand into the crook of his free elbow. “Tor… I saw Barbara this morning. She did not know that you and Lady Isalyn are getting married and she… well, may we go somewhere and speak about it?”
It was an unhappy change of focus and Tor lost some of his good mood. “You were not threatened, were you?”
Isabella shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “My father and brother are here. Christian was here also, so I was well protected. But… I must speak to you about it, please.”
He was relieved that Barbara had at least behaved herself while he was away, but he was concerned with the urgency in Isabella’s tone.
“Certainly,” he said. “Let us take these treasures to your chamber and then we may speak.”
“Good,” Isabella said, looking to Isalyn. “Did you get some beautiful things?”
Isalyn nodded eagerly as the focus shifted to her. “The dress Tor selected for me is exquisite,” she said. Then, she held up her hand to show her the wedding ring. “And he bought this for me, too.”
Isabella looked at it closely. “A pretty gold band,” she said. “But no stone?”
Isalyn took the ring off. “No st
one,” she said. “This is an ancient Roman wedding ring and what is inscribed inside of it is more valuable to me than any stone. Can you see it?”
Isabella was trying to get a look at it. “Libet te?”
“I choose thee.”
Isabella’s mouth popped open. “Oh, Isalyn,” she gasped. “How beautiful. How sweet!”
Isalyn took the ring and put it back on her finger. “It is both of those things,” she said. “I cannot wait to unpack the trunks so you can see the other things Tor has purchased. He was quite generous.”
Isabella nodded eagerly as Tor turned to the soldiers following them and whistled, motioning towards the apartment block. They headed in that direction and Isabella caught sight of Fraser, bringing up the rear. She let go of Tor and stood aside as the column passed, waiting for Fraser to catch up to her.
His smile upon her was warm.
“Good day, my lady,” he said. “I thought you were going home with your father.”
She took up pace beside him, walking towards the apartment block. “He had too much drink last night,” she said. “Our trip is delayed until tomorrow.”
“Good,” Fraser said. “That gives me more time to talk to you. I was rather lamenting the fact that you would soon be back at Castle Questing.”
Isabella looked at him coyly. “You can always come and visit.”
He grunted. “I would need to speak to your father first before doing that.”
“Just to visit?”
He averted his gaze, struggling with a reply, when he suddenly came to a halt and grasped her by the elbow, pulling her to a halt as well. The soldiers carrying the trunks continued on, following Tor and Isalyn, and Fraser waited until they were far enough away before speaking again.
“I only know to be direct, so I shall be direct now,” he said. “I have been thinking about this all morning. Though we have only known each other for a single day, I found our conversation last night to be most… pleasant. Before you retired for the evening, it was one of the better conversations I have ever had. I found myself quite distressed when your father said that he would be taking you home today.”
Isabella was trying to play it casual. The last time she got excited over a man speaking sweetly to her, she ended up betrothed to a man who left her at the church. Therefore, she wasn’t about to get too excited, as much as she wanted to.
“As I said, you may visit,” she said. “You do not need my father’s permission to visit Castle Questing.”
“I need it if I am to visit you.”
“For what purpose?”
He just stared at her for a moment before lowering his gaze. “Forgive me,” he said. “I thought… surely you are not ready for another man to call upon you so soon after Steffan’s death. But last night, I thought… it does not matter what I thought. That was horribly inconsiderate of me and I deeply apologize.”
He started to back away from her, but Isabella followed, realizing her attempts not to become overexcited had the opposite effect. She put her hand on his arm, grasping him before he could get away.
“Stop,” she commanded softly. “Fraser, I would like very much for you to come to Castle Questing and call on me. I was only trying to coerce you into saying what was on your mind.”
He paused, looking at her rather guardedly. “You need not coerce me into saying what is on my mind,” he said. “Ask me and I shall tell you.”
“Then I am asking. What are your intentions?”
“I would like to court you.”
A smile spread across her lips. “I would like that, too.”
He blinked as if surprised by her answer. “But… Steffan…”
She shook her head. “It was never meant to be,” she said. “He was overwhelming in his pursuit, insincere in his flattering, and probably told me more lies than I care to admit. At the time… well, I had never really had a suitor before and I suppose I fell into the flattery trap. I believed what he told me, but when he did not show up for our marriage, I realized I’d been tricked. It was foolish of me, but it did one thing – any emotion I felt for him was quickly gone until humiliation was the only thing left.”
Fraser’s gaze lingered on her a moment. “You were not the fool,” he said quietly. “He was.”
“That I sweet of you to say so.”
“It is the truth,” Fraser said, lowering his gaze again and taking a deep breath. “I must be further honest, my lady. We spoke briefly on my family last night, but I did not tell you all of it. My family is not wealthy. In fact, I serve de Featherstone because he pays well and I must earn my way in life, so if your father is thinking to marry you to a prestigious knight from a great family, I am afraid that is not me. But I am honorable, loyal, and have worked hard to accumulate what money I have earned. Upon the passing of my father, I will inherit Welton Castle and the title of Lord Faldingworth, and I intend to return my family’s estate to the powerful bastion it used to be, but for now… now, I must serve de Featherstone.”
She was looking at him with an amused twinkle in her eyes. “Are you proud of your position, then?”
“I am.”
“Then so am I. Fraser, truly, you need not worry.”
“But I fear your father may not approve because I do not have a great name, nor do I serve a great house.”
She laughed softly. “I am the eldest, and only, daughter of Blayth de Wolfe, brother to the Earl of Warenton,” she said. “Warenton lands are four times the size of any other earldom in the north and my father commands thousands. We are the largest family in the north.”
“I am aware.”
“Then you must realize that we do not need wealth or lands, for we have enough of our own,” she said. “A man of good character is worth more than money or lands, and should you and I marry, you would serve the Earl of Warenton. That is much better than serving de Featherstone.”
Fraser didn’t say anything for a moment. It was clear that he was mulling over what she had said.
“Then I must be plain before this goes any further,” he said. “It is true that, someday, I would like to serve a big house. That has always been my desire. But you… I do not court you because you are a de Wolfe and my path to service would be a simple thing. I would court you simply because you are who you are, and for no other reason. You could be the daughter of a peasant for all I care and I would still want to court you. What you are makes no difference to me – it is who you are. Do you understand?”
Isabella nodded. “I do,” she said, smiling. “And the same thing can be said for you. I do not care that you do not come from a great family. It is your heart I care about and nothing more.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Fraser’s mouth. “Then we understand one another.”
“We do.”
“Then I would speak to your father before you leave.”
Reaching out, she looped her hand into the crook of his elbow. “I happen to know where he is.”
Fraser had never been prouder than he was at that moment, heading towards the apartment block with Isabella on his arm. It fortified him for what was to come.
But what was to come was not what he had expected.
The day was about to take a dark turn.
“She said that?”
Isabella nodded solemnly. “She did.”
Tor simply shook his head in disgust and turned away.
Isabella and Fraser entered the apartment block to find Blayth standing in the chamber that Isabella had shared with Isalyn, speaking to Tor as Isalyn removed all of the pretty things he’d purchased for her in Carlisle and placed them across the bed. Fraser had hoped to speak to Blayth privately and, in truth, he was a little intimidated by the big, scarred warrior, but his plans were thwarted when Tor asked Isabella to elaborate on her concerns with Barbara.
So, she told him. As Fraser shut the door quietly so the conversation wouldn’t be overheard, Tor wasn’t surprised by what Isabella said.
But like her, he was concerned.
“I am sorry I told her, Tor,” Isabella said, thinking he was miffed at her. “But I knew that she and Lenore would know soon enough, so I saw no harm in telling her, yet when I did, it was as if she went mad. She muttered to herself and ran off. I thought you should know.”
Tor sighed heavily and reached out, putting a hand on her soft cheek. “Not to worry, Bella,” he said. “I am not angry with you. It is true that Barbara and Lenore would know soon enough, but I do not like what she said to you. She really said that it must not happen?”
Isabella nodded. “I would not lie to you.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” he said quickly. “I simply meant… that was a concerning thing to say. I would have hoped that she would have at least accepted the news stoically, but it seems that she did not.”
Isabella shook her head. “Nay, she did not,” she said. “Tor… I have seen Barbara and Lenore at their most wicked. They are capable of almost anything and it seems to me that they may try to do something to Isalyn to prevent her from marrying you.”
Tor looked at Isalyn, who was smoothing out the white silk shift with the pearl sleeves on the bed, pretending that she wasn’t listening. She was going on as if nothing could bother her, but Tor knew she must have been distressed listening to the conversation. She was simply trying to be brave. Scratching his head, he looked at his uncle.
“Help me,” he pleaded softly. “I fear I have lost my perspective in this situation. They are Jane’s sisters and I do not want to harm them, but I do not want them here at Blackpool any longer. They are a danger and I will not allow them to threaten Isalyn. You have the advantage of being neutral in this circumstance, so tell me what you would do.”
Blayth could hear the distress in his nephew’s voice, unusual for the usually composed man. Truth be told, he was very glad he was being asked that question because he had some opinions on the matter.
He had for a long time.
“Do you want my honest opinion, Tor?” he asked.
Tor nodded firmly. “Please,” he said. “Tell me and I shall do as you say.”
WolfeStrike (de Wolfe Pack Generations Book 2) Page 26