The soft swing of her hips and the seductive wink she gave him caused an immediate reaction within him. He lost all thoughts of decisions and could only think of sinking into the softness she offered and claiming her once more as his own. A niggling suspicion, and one that lasted but a few moments, worked its way into his thoughts. Had he fallen into some trap she’d set for him?
And as the promise of passion became a reality, he knew for a certainty that she had let him think it was all his idea. But, at the moment when their bodies joined and their hearts beat as one, Orrick could think of nothing but his lovely Marguerite.
Chapter Twelve
“Come, Isabel. There is an easy path down to the beach over here.”
The tall, blond knight waved to her and she touched her heels to her horse’s sides to make it follow him. Sir Hugh’s invitation to ride on this sunny afternoon promised a chance away from the scrutiny of those who lived in the keep and so she accepted it with little delay.
Isabel trailed Hugh and his larger stallion down the path that led away from the keep and down to the beach. On one side of the keep, this beach was more sand than rocks. Once the land curved around the keep, only rocks and boulders and a sharp cliff lay between the sea and the tower.
The rays of the sun hit her as they came out of the shadows of the tree-lined path and she tilted her face to the heat and light. She longed to tear off the headpiece that covered her hair and her stockings and shoes and run bareheaded and barefooted through the warm sand. That, however, was not acceptable behavior for a lady and especially not with this knight in her presence. So she contented herself with walking and breathing in the fresh sea air.
Hugh carried with him a large cloth and a basket of food, generously suggested by Lady Margaret. The lady knew that meals, in the great hall with so many around her, were taxing Isabel’s strength and had recommended this quiet, informal meal to her. Hugh spread the cloth over the sand and assisted her in sitting down. After arranging herself and her skirts, he handed her the basket of food.
Isabel examined the knight as she placed the roasted chicken, haddock, hard cheese and brown bread on a trencher between them. As was expected, he tore off pieces of each of the foods and served them back to her. A fine example of knighthood and gentlemanly behavior.
He was fair to gaze upon, she decided, and his manners and treatment of her were filled with concern and care. With his blond hair and mustache and tall, muscular form, he was all things in a man that a woman would want in a husband. And although he was a second son like Sir Richard, they were both of noble birth and from good families.
Isabel shook her head. Why was she thinking of these things? Marriage? It had no place in her life now. Until she discovered whether or not she was bound to another, she could make no promises or commitments. Lady Margaret had other ideas and she knew what they were, but without a clear conscience, Isabel would not even hear any discussion of marriage.
“I’ve been uncaring, haven’t I?” Hugh said. “The sun is directly in your face.” He rose and repositioned the food and then her so that she could look on him without squinting.
“Your concern is most welcome, Sir Hugh.”
“Isabel, you must call me Hugh. Here with you, I am simply a man, not a knight.”
This was heading off in a direction that Isabel did not intend to go. “But you are a knight, whether we are together and alone or not. However, when we are sharing an informal meal as this one is, I will call you Hugh.”
He seemed placated by this compromise, for he smiled. “I understand, Isabel. Formality and manners are all you have to guide you at this time of uncertainty in your life. You must cling to what you know while you seek out the truth of your life.”
Now she was certain—Lady Margaret was behind this after all. Hugh had repeated her words almost exactly. The lady was setting up these encounters and counseling the knights of her household in how to treat her and the limits of her health and her knowledge of her past. Isabel was also sure that Lady Margaret was not sharing this personal information with the rest of her household. To do so could invite ridicule and embarrassment to Isabel and she knew the lady wanted no such thing.
But this new attempt to break free her memories was disconcerting to her, for it encouraged these good knights to think of her as a candidate for marriage. Isabel was filled with unease about this.
“I do not seek to speak of something so personal,” Hugh said softly. “I simply wanted you to know that I am mindful of your situation.” He picked up a small slice of cheese and offered it to her. “For today, pray leave your worries behind and enjoy the sunshine and this food.”
Deciding to accept his offer of a truce, Isabel reached for the food and enjoyed their meal. The rest of it passed in a companionable silence. After sharing some of the sweet comfits packed in with their food, Hugh asked her to walk. He stood and helped her to her feet. Feeling quite daring, she paused to tug off her shoes and stockings and wiggled her toes in the sand. If she shocked him with such behaviors, he did not show it.
She led him down to the water’s edge and, after gathering the length of her skirts up, she ran into the icy waves. Isabel indulged herself for only a few minutes and then walked back to where Hugh stood watching.
“I would end up with wet, sagging hose if I followed your example.” He pointed down to his knee-high boots and the hose that she knew began at his feet and continued up to his waist.
“I have wanted to do that ever since I saw how close to the beach Silloth Keep was.” Using her hand to guard her eyes from the sun’s glare, she peered up at the top of the sea cliff to where the tall stone tower sat. “Look. Someone is on top of it.” She pointed to the small figure she could see walking on the roof of the keep.
“’Tis either Lord Orrick or Royce. The view from there is good and on a clear day, you can see to the edges of Lord Orrick’s lands.”
“He can see us?” She suspected it was Royce watching them from high above.
“The entire beach can be seen, as well as most of the cliff,” Hugh explained. “To the north and east you can see all the way to the salt marshes.”
Images of the dark, swampy land, with the icy water sucking her down filled her mind. The rancid smells filled her nose again. The cries of the curlew and loon filled the air around her as she struggled to escape the grip of the water. Pain and terror threatened to overwhelm her….
“Isabel?” He shook her again. “Isabel? Speak to me.”
She blinked several times and realized Hugh was holding her by the shoulders and gently shaking her. “I am fine now. Truly,” she said, pulling back from his grasp. “My thanks for your concern.”
But she was not fine. The nightmares were now invading the daylight hours, haunting her even when she was awake. Would she ever discover their message and have peace?
“You are pale and shivering, Isabel. Come, I will escort you back, for Lady Margaret will have my head if she thinks I have caused you ill.”
She did not argue with him but only stood and watched as he gathered up the remnants of their meal and packed it in the basket. Then he guided her to the horses at the edge of the beach and helped her to mount. Her throat tightened and her eyes burned with tears at the ruin of such a beautiful day. Clinging to the reins, she retreated into her thoughts and tried to make sense of the scene she’d witnessed.
’Twas not the first time the marsh had appeared in her dreams. The smells and sounds so clearly told her that her attack had happened there. But who were her assailants? Why? As had happened before, the harder she tried to sort out the memories, the faster they slipped from her grasp. She wanted to scream out her frustration, but this was neither the time nor place to do it. If Hugh was already alarmed by her actions, that would send him in search of a priest to exorcise the demons from her.
Isabel pulled her thoughts together and tried to calm herself on the ride up the path to the keep. Getting upset would gain her nothing. She must remain calm when the
se memories broke through or she would not be able to remain here. Lady Margaret had suggested that she consider visiting her sister’s convent on the other side of Carlisle. Mayhap she should think on that suggestion more carefully, for alerting the rest of the people here to her lack of a past and to the heinous attack she’d suffered would put her in more danger.
William was waiting for them as they entered through the gates. Isabel’s color was poor and anyone could see she was upset by something. When he had seen Hugh lay hands on her from his perch on top of the keep, his blood had boiled and the roar in his ears was louder than even the crashing of the waves on the beach. He tried to convince himself that Lady Margaret would never have permitted this interlude if she thought that Hugh would take advantage of Isabel.
From the looks of it, the lady had been wrong.
William fisted and released his hands as he strode over to where they dismounted. Hugh continued his sham act of courtesy, even assisting Isabel from her horse, until William approached. Grabbing his shoulder, he shoved the man out of the way to get a closer look at Isabel.
“The lady is unwell, Royce,” Hugh argued, shoving back. “Give her space.”
William wheeled and pushed him again; this time his blow made Hugh slip back away from her. “And what part did you play in this? Did you press your suit too ardently? I saw you grab her on the beach.” William clenched his jaw and waited for the denial.
“So, ’twas you watching us from the roof. And what else did your eagle eyes spy?”
That was all the goading he could take. He threw the first punch and was pleased to see Hugh land in the dirt some feet away. William then jumped onto the knight and pummeled him thoroughly. When some of the anger within him was quelled, he got to his feet and dusted off his hands. Hugh would not accost Isabel again, he was certain of it.
Isabel.
Isabel?
Where had the woman gone? She did not look as though she possessed the strength to walk off, but it appeared she had. Looking at the faces in the crowd that gathered around him, he could not see her. Pushing his way through them, he searched the courtyard again and still there was no sign of her.
She could not have disappeared into the air. She looked so pale and so lifeless he could not have imagined her going anywhere without help.
“You there,” he called out as he pointed to one of the kitchen servants. “Where did the lady go?” He motioned back to the riderless horse. Shrugs and more shrugs were the answers he received.
He felt his control slipping. Like the day he had returned to his empty cottage after learning that outlaws had been reported on Orrick’s lands. Nowhere, she was nowhere to be found. Again. His chest tightened and his breathing labored as he tried to find her.
“Isabel!” he yelled. When those around him quieted more, he called out again, even louder. “ISABEL!” Everyone in the courtyard stopped and stared and he knew he was acting like a madman, but he needed to find her.
“The chapel, sir. I think she went into the chapel.” A soft voice spoke behind him and he whirled around to find its source. A young girl stood before him, eyes wide with fear.
“My thanks,” he said.
He noticed the stares and the silence and knew he had let his anger and worry get out of control. Waving them on, he urged the onlookers back to their duties and ran to the chapel to see if Isabel was there.
Vaulting over the low stone wall, he approached the door. Taking in and releasing a deep breath, William pulled the door open and peered into the dim coolness of the church. A small figure sat on one of the benches against the side wall. With a sigh of relief, he entered and walked to where she sat.
She gave no sign of hearing him come near. With her eyes closed and her head leaning against the wall, she looked to be asleep. ’Twas then he noticed the dark smudges under her eyes, making her skin look even paler. He could not fight the urge to smooth his thumb over them and, as he did so, he prayed they would go away.
“Leave me be,” she whispered.
Of all the things he thought she’d say, that was not one of them. “I sought only to help you, Isabel. You do not look well.”
“You beat Sir Hugh to a bloody pulp to help me?”
Put in that manner, his actions did not seem to make sense. But William knew his reaction had been sound. If Hugh had not yet overstepped the bounds of good behavior with Isabel, it would happen soon. And now Hugh had a clear understanding of the consequences of such actions.
“He needed to know his place.” There. He had explained it to her. She would realize the correctness in his reaction to seeing her upset.
“And shall I warn Sir Richard not to share the evening meal with me for fear of being attacked by you? Will all those who eat supper with me be in danger of a thrashing by Orrick’s captain of the guard?” She opened her eyes. “Shall I warn my maid not to come too close?”
“Isabel, ’tis not like that.” She must see that he did it for her. Did she not know she was trembling when she rode through the gate with Hugh? Could she not see that he was there to help her? “I but tried to help you.”
“You ignore me and shun my company and conversation for a week and now you want to help me? Forgive me for being dense and not understanding.”
William winced at the sarcasm in her voice. Stated as she had, his behavior did sound bad. But that was not the way it was for him. He had fought off the desire to speak with her and to be near her. Every night he forced himself to leave before the evening meal, for watching her with the others, especially the knights who Lady Margaret encouraged to pay her attention, was tearing him apart. Some nights, still craving the sight of her, he stood outside the hall and watched her from the darkness.
Could he tell her that? She should not think that his actions were of her making. Isabel had enough problems and did not need him heaping more on her. The urge, the need to tell her the truth grew and he wanted more than anything to share his burden with her. Swallowing against the words, he focused on regaining control over himself and over the feelings she engendered in him.
“I pray you will believe me, Isabel. I do not ignore you.”
She did not take her gaze from his and ’twas clear that she was waiting for more. He could not give her that which she wanted, so he changed the subject.
“You do not look well. Are you not resting?”
Something flared within her depths and he watched as she accepted the limit he had placed between them. Closing her eyes again, she leaned back again.
“No.”
“You look tired now.” He stepped closer and sat next to her. He tugged off his leather gauntlets and took her hand in his. William knew the cause of her exhaustion. “The nightmares keep you from sleeping?”
She blinked several times, fighting off the tears he could see gathering in her eyes.
“Come, I will take you back to the keep. You should rest.” He began to stand, drawing her with him, but she pulled her hand from his.
“I was enjoying the quiet here, Royce. You can leave if you do not wish to be in my company.”
When he looked into her eyes, though, he read the silent plea within them. He sat back down and moved closer to her. Taking her hand and guiding it under and around his arm, he tugged her until she rested her head against his shoulder.
He did not bother her with words. He allowed the silence to grow and when he felt her slump against him, he knew that sleep was finally overtaking her. Sitting with her, he simply waited, trying not to examine this too closely for the discomfort it would cause him.
Sometime later, the door of the chapel opened and Edlyn entered. With a finger to his lips, he warned her to keep silent. With another motion of his hand, he dismissed her. After an initial expression of surprise, she turned and left.
He shifted on the bench, drew Isabel closer and relaxed back against the wall. Then, resting his chin lightly on her head, he waited for her to wake.
“They are where?”
His wife
shushed him, but he could not help being surprised. Many reports had been given him of the scene in the courtyard on Hugh and Isabel’s return. Including that of the disappearance of Isabel and Royce shortly after the fistcuffs occurred.
“In the chapel, my lord.” Isabel’s maid lowered her eyes to the floor.
“Asleep, you say? In the chapel?” Orrick could not understand this. “You saw them there?”
“Aye, my lord. He was awake the first time I went in, but not the second.”
He thought to ask her again to make certain she was telling the truth, but Margaret intervened and, after cautioning her not to carry tales about her mistress, dismissed her to wait on Isabel’s return.
“What think you of this, Margaret?” Orrick knew his wife had already made up her mind on how this would work out. “I cannot remember Royce ever losing control before. I have seen him in battle and under pressure and not once has he acted thus. I even thought him devoid of emotions.”
“Not empty of them, Orrick. He has too many and too much within himself and thinks to control them by cutting himself off from the world. For three years he has succeeded. Until Isabel turned up at his door in need of him.”
Orrick walked to his wife and sat in the chair next to hers. “Has he revealed his past to you?”
“He has told me nothing that he has not told you.”
“Is this a wise thing to do? The meddling in their lives?”
“As I said to Royce, she was delivered to him for a reason. Either for his good or hers or both. ’Tis our task to discover the reasons.”
“You have spent too much time at that convent. You are sounding like a philosopher or worse, a nun.” Orrick knew he’d gone too far, but her more frequent absences were not to his liking.
“Would you change our agreement, then?” Margaret’s lips tightened as she waited for his reply.
The Norman's Bride Page 11