Beyond Reason

by Avril Borthiry

  She paused at the doorway of the great hall, her nose wrinkling at the stale smells of food and wine. It seemed little had changed from the night before. People still made merry, musicians still sang and the air buzzed with conversation. Not wishing to be noticed, Isobel pressed herself against the doorjamb and glanced around the room. Her eyes wandered to the dais. To her relief, Robert and Joanna were not there.

  “Do you require something, my lady?”

  Isobel turned to see Felix at her side, eyes bloodshot and breath rank. She cringed inwardly. “I'm looking for Sir Elias. Have you seen him?”

  Felix's lips curved into a pretentious smile. “I believe he may be found in the stable, Mistress.”

  Isobel nodded and turned to leave. “Thank you, Felix.”

  “Er, my lady. ” His smiled became a sneer as she turned back. “May I say how sorry I am that your endeavour to become Lady of Glendennan came to naught. 'Tis fortunate, though, that you found a man to replace Lord Montgomery so quickly.”

  His words, and the meaning therein, hit Isobel like a punch. She stepped back against the wall. “How dare you,” she said, all but choking on the disdain in Felix's tone. “You know nothing of it.”

  “Oh, but I do. I fully understand your disappointment in losing out to a younger, more desirable woman. Good day to you, Mistress.” He bowed his head and stepped past her into the hall.

  Isobel closed her eyes and swallowed a deep breath, willing her head to stop its nauseating spin.

  “What did he say to you?”

  She blinked up at a pair of concerned grey eyes. “Ah. Sir Elias. I apologize for my lateness. Forgive me.”

  He shook his head. “'Tis of no importance. What did that servant say to you? Tell me.”

  “'Tis of no importance either,” she replied. “Felix is a cruel man who, for some reason, has always disliked me.”

  Elias grunted. “Come. You're very pale. We'll take a little air, and then you'll eat something.”

  “Sir Elias, I'm beginning to think you are my only friend these days.” Feeling calmer, she took hold of his arm. “I've become a stranger in my own home.”

  “Hmm.” He patted her hand. “Then perhaps it's time to consider moving to another home, my lady.”

  Perhaps, indeed, the time had come.

  They stepped into a chilly grey morning to the sight of Robert and Joanna riding out of the castle gates. Isobel watched as Robert turned to speak to Joanna, and saw the girl smile in response. Her hand tightened on Elias's arm.

  “I'm sorry, Isobel,” he said. “I heard they were going for a ride this morning, but presumed they would have left by now”

  The woman I'm to marry is not the woman I love.

  “It's alright, really.” She turned her back on them and looked up at Elias with a smile, her thoughts all at once clear. “Sir Elias, would you do something for me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Take me home.”

  Behind them, Glendennan's portcullis rattled its noisy descent. Elias nodded. “When do you want to leave?.”

  “As soon as possible.” She glanced at the gate. “Before they return. But there are a few things I must do first. Can I meet you in the stables?”

  He nodded again. “I'll be waiting.”

  Isobel ran to her chamber, took a parchment and quill from her desk, sat down and began to write. She had little to say to him, but her words to Robert bled from the heart as her tears fell. They tumbled onto her written words and she cursed as the letters blended, one into the other. When she had finished, she lay down her pen and re-read the letter. With a sigh, she folded and sealed it.

  She took only what she deemed important. Her jewellery, her hair brush, and a change of underclothes took up little room in her small cloth bag. The unfinished sampler rested on the table by the fireplace. Isobel picked it up, ran her fingers over the stitches, and then placed it back on the table. She had no desire to finish it now.

  A wonderful, beautiful episode in her life had ended. Grief sat like a closed fist in her chest as she stood on the threshold of her chamber. Echoes of Robert's laughter seemed to resonate around the empty room. As the door closed behind her, the echoes ceased.

  Isobel ran downstairs, passing Bernard on the way. She paused and met his gaze squarely as he nodded to her.

  “My lady.”

  “Bernard.” She raised her chin. “Please be sure to give Elisabeth my best regards.”

  He glanced at the bag she carried. “What? Why? Where are you going?”

  She swallowed against the sudden lump that had arisen in her throat. “God be with you, Bernard. Thank you for your kindness to me.”

  He shook his head and reached out as if to stop her. “Nay, Isobel. Wait.”

  Ignoring his request, she stepped past him and ran downstairs to Robert's office, praying he hadn't locked it. She glanced round to make sure no one was watching, and tried the latch. To her relief, the door swung open.

  Isobel stepped inside, closed the door behind her, and rested against it for a moment, gathering her courage. Even in his absence, Robert's presence filled the room.

  “I shall miss you,” she whispered. “For the rest of my life.”

  She walked over to his cluttered desk and placed the letter upon it. As she turned to leave, she saw the chess board and a memory surfaced in her mind. Memories, she realized, were all she had to remind her of him.

  I believe I have you, my lord.

  There is no doubt of it. You have me, heart and soul, my love.

  I was referring to the game, Robert. Checkmate.

  “You're coming with me,” she whispered, dropping the damaged chess piece into her bag.

  There were tears from Mary and John. The child's cries, especially, had a profound effect on Isobel, almost breaking her resolve to leave. Her broken heart shattered further as he wept in her arms.

  “Say you'll come back, Lady Is'bel. Say it,” he cried.

  “I'll try, sweetheart.” She hugged his small body, feeling his tiny heart beating against her chest. “I promise you I'll try.”

  Empty words, she knew, that served only to comfort.

  With the temptation to stay at Glendennan bearing down on her, Isobel ran across the courtyard and into the stables. “I'm ready,” she said, breathless. “Can we leave now?”

  Elias took the bag from her. “Right away, my lady.” He nodded towards the door. “There's someone here to bid you farewell.”

  “Angmar.” Isobel hugged the old woman. “I meant to call on you as we passed your house. How did you know I was leaving?”

  Angmar merely shrugged, stroked a gnarled hand down Isobel's cheek, and leaned closer. “A day will come, child,” she whispered, “when one will ride out of the mist seeking a light for the darkness. Listen to him and obey your heart.”

  Isobel frowned. “I don't understand. What do you mean?”

  Angmar shrugged again. “I cannot say anymore than this.” She glanced at Elias. “Go now with this fine knight, and be safe.”

  With the old woman's odd words playing her head, Isobel felt herself being lifted onto Titan's back. Elias settled himself behind her, and she shuddered at the realisation of her final departure.

  “Are you alright, my lady?” he asked as they set out across the bailey

  “Aye,” she replied. “I think so.”

  But as the portcullis closed behind them and they headed away from Glendennan, Isobel turned her face into Elias's chest and wept.

  Chapter 18

  Robert helped Joanna dismount at the main door with a sense of relief. The morning had not been easy with his betrothed. So far, despite his best efforts, he'd felt little connection to her and suspected she harboured similar thoughts.

  “What a mess, eh, lad?” he whispered to Argyle, rubbing the stallion's nose as he led the horses into the stable. One of Willoughby's grooms took the reins, and Robert turned to leave. The practice yard beckoned. The thought of doing battle – albeit a fabricat
ed conflict – appealed to his tense mood.

  Then he noticed Titan's vacant stall, and a cold hand seemed to clutch his heart. He glanced at Cinnamon's stall, grabbing onto a thread of hope when he saw the little mare still there. Maybe his worst fears were unfounded.

  “Where's the stallion that occupied this stall?” he asked, his voice sounding hollow over the rush of blood in his ears.

  The groom frowned. “The big black one?”

  “Aye, the big black one. Where is it?”

  “They left this morning, m' lord.”

  “They?” Hope all but gone, Robert flinched at a sudden throb of pain in his temples. “You say 'they'. The knight was not alone?” But he already knew the answer.

  “Nay, my lord. He had a lady with him. Is there a problem?”

  “When do you expect their return?”

  The groom shook his head. “I don't believe they mean to return, my lord. They each had belongings with them, and an old woman was here to wish the lady farewell”

  Angmar.

  Robert blew out a breath and leaned against the door of the stall, trying to assemble his thoughts.

  “Are you alright, my lord? Do you feel ill?”

  Robert shook his head and pushed past the groom. He felt sick. He felt... empty.

  Although he'd expected Isobel to leave, the reality of the event numbed him beyond his understanding.

  Someone called his name as he crossed the bailey, but he ignored it. Seeking sanctuary, he headed for his office, dropped into a chair, and closed his eyes. The only sound was that of his blood, rushing in his ears.

  A knock came to the door, but he didn't answer. It opened anyway.

  “Rob.” Bernard stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

  Robert didn't look up. “There's a reason I didn't answer, Bernard. Get out.”

  “You've heard about Isobel then?”

  “Christ. Did you not hear what I said? Get out.”

  “I came to tell you Willoughby is looking for you.”

  “Let him look.”

  “I overheard Joanna telling him she didn't enjoy your company this morning.”

  “Is that so?” Robert scoffed. “I can't think why. It took a little effort, but I managed to make her smile twice. Maybe she's talking about the two hours she spent praying in church. The girl's piety would try the patience of a saint.”

  Bernard chuckled. “The lass is devout, I'll grant you that.”

  The door rattled again with a loud knock and Bernard lifted an eyebrow in question.

  “Want me to stay?”

  Robert rose to his feet. “Nay, let him in. I'm spoiling for a fight. Maybe if I kill him, I won't have to marry Joanna.”

  Bernard nodded. “Right. Well, I'll wait outside then. Just in case.”

  Willoughby hesitated for a moment as Bernard pushed by him.

  “Come in, my lord.” Robert's hand drifted to his sword hilt. Perhaps a turn in the practice ground wouldn't be necessary after all.

  “Take your hand off your weapon, Montgomery. I'm not here for a fight.”

  “That's too bad. I'm in the mood for one.”

  “So it would seem.” Willoughby cleared his throat. “I'll get straight to the point. Joanna was a little troubled upon her return from your outing. You need to understand that my daughter is of a sensitive nature and God-fearing. She indicated you were a little...impatient with her in church.”

  “Was I?” Robert shrugged. “My pardon. It won't happen again. Next time the lass wants to spend the entire morning in church, I'll have someone else accompany her.”

  “Come now, Montgomery. There's nothing wrong with a little piety.”

  Robert snorted. “Agreed. A little piety I can handle.”

  A muscle ticked in Willoughby's jaw. “Look, I know you've just had your pride dented. I've heard all about your little concubine running into the arms of another. Count it as a blessing. You'll be happier with a faithful wife than a flighty mistress.”

  Fury coiled in Robert's gut. “I would know who at Glendennan dared to speak of the lady in such a way.”

  “I'll tell you gladly. 'Twas that steward of yours. He was well into his cups last night and it loosened his tongue. Said she was no better than a harlot.” Willoughby turned to leave, pausing on the threshold to speak over his shoulder. “Heed me well, Montgomery. Gather up your pride and let the little widow go. My daughter will make you a good wife and a very wealthy man. Remember that.”

  He left, and mere moments later, Bernard peered around the door jamb. “No blood then?”

  “Not yet.” Robert ran a hand through his hair. “Bring De Lisle here. Now.”

  Bernard gave a nod. “Will do.”

  As the door closed, Robert's gaze fell on the chess-board and the empty space. Puzzled, he searched the table and floor for the missing piece. Had someone taken it? Why would anyone...?

  Like a whispered secret, the answer came to him and his heart kicked with an extra beat.

  Isobel.

  She had been there – he knew it as surely as he knew to draw breath. But not just for the chess piece, surely? Robert held his breath and looked at his desk, seeing exactly what he hoped to see. He snatched up the parchment and tore it open, groaning at the sight of the tear-stained words .

  My dear Robert,

  It is with a heavy heart that I leave Glendennan, but it is with an immeasurable burden on my soul that I leave you.

  That said, I consider myself fortunate among women. There must be very few who have experienced a love like the one you shared with me. The memories of it will stay with me always.

  May God keep you safe.

  Yours eternally,

  Isobel.

  A knock at the door made him flinch. Nerves stretched like a bowstring, Robert inhaled a deep breath and pulled his sword.

  “Enter.”

  Pale-faced, Felix wavered on the threshold, but Bernard's well-placed boot ended the steward's hesitation. With something akin to a shriek, he stumbled into the room, instinctively reaching out to Robert, who stepped aside as Felix fell to his knees. Another yelp of pain accompanied the painful crack of knee-bone against slate.

  “All yours, my lord,” Bernard said, pulling the door closed. “I'm right outside if you need me.”

  Robert stayed silent, scrutinizing the man at his feet, whose pallor now matched that of the slate floor. Felix had yet to look up, although his eyes flicked to the sword that hovered before him. When Robert raised the blade, Felix whimpered and followed its direction with wide eyes. “My lord, I beg–”

  “Lower your gaze.” Robert's voice held a tremor of rage. “And hold your tongue. It has already done enough damage.”

  “Please, my lord.” Felix bowed his head. “I... I meant no harm. I thought...I thought –”

  “Hold...your...tongue.” He touched the edge of his blade to Felix's neck. “Get up.”

  The man struggled to his feet, wincing in pain. Sweat glistened on his brow, and his legs trembled visibly. Eyes still lowered, he spoke. “Please, Lord Montgomery, have mercy. Don't...don't kill me.”

  Repulsed by the man's snivelling, Robert's lip curled in a sneer. “I want to slice you from nose to navel, De Lisle, but I won't.”

  Felix's head bobbed like a chicken's. “Oh, thank you, my lord. Thank you. I meant no harm. Given what has occurred, I thought you no longer had any use for the lady. I thought – ”

  With a guttural snarl of rage, Robert slashed his blade across Felix's cheek. The man howled and pressed his hand to the wound, blood oozing through gaps between his fingers.

  “A little reminder of your last day at Glendennan.” Robert grabbed the scruff of Felix's neck. “Wear it well, you piece of shit.”

  Felix continued to howl, clawing at his collar as he was hauled outside and dragged across the bailey. The winter wind seemed to match the man's cries as it hurtled around Glendennan's walls. Robert raised his sword and the portcullis lifted, allowing them passage
. Once outside, he gave Felix a vicious shove and sent him sprawling across the frozen earth.

  Robert's eyes narrowed as he pointed his sword. “If I ever see your face on my lands again, you'll feel the chill of my blade in your gut. Now move.”

  “But...but where will I go?” Blood dripped off the man's chin, spattering dark stains onto the ground. “It's cold and I... I have nothing. Please, my lord, I beg of you.”

  “Neither did the lady have anything, you merciless bastard.” He stepped back. “Suffer, then, as she did, and may the Devil take you.”

  The portcullis closed, slicing through Felix's wails of protest like an axe.

  “Feeling better?” Bernard leaned against the doorway, arms folded, watching Robert approach.

  “Step aside, Bernard.”

  He did so. “It might have been kinder to finish the bastard with your sword. He'll freeze out there.”

  “Good.”

  “Rob, listen.” Bernard fell into step beside him. “ I'm sorry about Isobel. I didn't think she'd ever leave Glendennan. If she hadn't inherited that property – ”

  “If she hadn't inherited that property, she'd still be here and suffering anyway. Edward's response decided the fate of more than one of us. This marriage is at Edward's whim, yet only he and Willoughby have what they want. I don't, nor does Joanna, and certainly not Isobel. 'Tis the way of noble life – the price we must pay to maintain our level of power and wealth. I swear, of late, I've envied my serfs their freedom of choice in such matters.” He pushed his office door open. “Pass the word I'm not to be disturbed.”

  The door closed behind him like a shield, protecting him from whispered speculation and curious glances. Not that he cared what others thought, but he needed time to gather his emotions. Wearied by grief and anger, he settled into a chair and reached for Isobel's letter. He read it again and again, touching his fingers to the tear-stained ink, imagining her seated at her little table, penning the note as she wept. Restless with need of her, he left his office and headed upstairs to her chamber.