Elias grunted. “In a few months you'll be serving him up for dinner.”
“Elias!”
He grinned. “I thought we were going to Monk's Meadow today. Or have you changed your mind?”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “No, I’ve not changed my mind. In fact, David is saddling Archer for me as we speak.”
“Good, because Moira gave me this.” He held up a basket.
“What is it?”
“Our lunch. I thought it would be nice to eat outside. The sun is very pleasant today.”
She smiled. “That’s a wonderful idea.”
His thoughtfulness warmed Isobel's heart. In the three months since her arrival at Stanford, she'd settled into an easy relationship with Elias. He’d been an immeasurable source of comfort, especially during her first few weeks of soul-destroying grief. She had come to care for him deeply and trusted him without question.
Yet, despite Elias's kindness and the passage of time, Robert had never strayed far from her thoughts. The deepest part of her soul harboured a desolate fear that she no longer had a place in his heart. Not a day went by without her wondering if he had grown to love Joanna, or if they might be expecting a child. Night, with its long lonely hours, tortured her with images of Robert and Joanna sharing intimate moments. Isobel still wept tears of yearning for the man she loved so well.
On this bright spring day, however, the sun’s rays gladdened her heart as she rode beside Elias. The blessings of yearly renewal surrounded her, and her weary spirit indulged in the natural optimism of the season.
The sun had reached its apex by the time they reached Monk's Meadow. The large field had been named for a monk from a nearby abbey, who had blessed the acreage and the rugged stone circle that stood within it. The holy man had, by grace of his blessing, supposedly removed the evil from the pagan monument, and rendered it harmless.
The stones stood in the middle of the meadow, bordered by the road on one side and a dense greenwood on the other. The ancient site fascinated Isobel, especially since local superstition held that wishes could be granted within the circle.
“Tell me again,” Isobel asked Elias as he helped her dismount. “What is the ritual for a wish to be granted?”
He gave her a wry smile. “Am I to bear witness to the Lady of Stanford Manor participating in a pagan ritual? And all before lunch?”
Isobel laughed. “'Tis only a bit of fun, Elias. Will you tell me?”
“Better than that.” He offered his hand. “I'll show you.”
He led her to the centre of the circle, stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Right. To begin, you must always face east, toward the largest stone.” He turned her. “There. Now, close your eyes and think about your wish.”
Such a pagan demand was surely innocuous. Even so, Isobel felt a flutter of guilt in her stomach as she made her wish.
“Good,” he muttered. “Don’t open your eyes, but turn to the south and then to the west, and face the smallest stone. Then make your wish again.”
Isobel did as he asked, steered by the gentle guidance of his hands.
“Now turn north and then east again to complete the circle.”
“Is that it?” she asked, opening her eyes and blinking into the sunlight.
“Aye, that's it.” He wandered over to collect the basket. “But you'd do as well to ask a barn door for whatever it was.” His words extinguished a feeble and foolish spark of hope that flickered in Isobel's mind.
They settled in a shady spot under an old oak and shared the simple fare Moira had prepared for them.
“You think of Lord Montgomery often, my lady.”
It was not a question. Isobel’s hand, holding a piece of cheese, stopped halfway to her mouth. Elias rarely mentioned Robert or Glendennan, and never in such a personal fashion. Taken aback, she dropped her gaze to her lap. “Often enough.”
I think of him all the time.
Elias leaned forward and raised Isobel’s chin with gentle finger.
“The pain will ease over time,” he said. “Believe me, I know.”
She swallowed over a sudden lump in her throat. “No doubt. Please don’t worry about me. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“I know you will. It’s just that I've grown fond of you. Your happiness is important to me.”
“And I’m most grateful, Elias. Truly, I don’t know what I would have done without you these past months.”
Eyes thoughtful, he studied her and cleared his throat. “There is something I would ask of you, my lady.”
“Of course. Please ask it.”
He drew a slow breath, took her hand in his, and lifted it to his lips.
“I wonder,” he said, “if you would do me the honour of becoming my wife.”
Shock stole her breath. Thoughts of marriage to Elias had never occurred to her. She opened her mouth, fumbling for an answer as heat rose in her cheeks.
“I didn’t mean to distress you, Isobel.” Concerned eyes searched her face. “But please, don't dismiss my proposal without consideration. We’re content enough together, and I promise to always take care of you and protect you.”
Isobel’s stunned mind continued to search for a response. “I…I’m honoured, Elias, but I confess you've caught me by surprise.”
“I understand, of course. Perhaps I have asked you too soon?”
“Oh, no. 'Tis just that I didn't expect it. I’m taken aback, is all.”
“Then you’ll think upon it?”
A cold wave of hopelessness washed over her. Somehow, Elias's proposal served to confirm that Robert belonged – completely – to another. Isobel had no choice but to face the bitter truth.
“Of course.” Her smile belied the terrible ache in her heart. “I'll think upon it.”
~ ~ ~
“Come to me, Isobel,” he whispered, the naked passion in his command sending an urgent pulse to the warm place between her thighs.
Isobel turned toward the sound of his voice, eager for his touch.
“Robert,” she murmured. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Angel.”
Her hands reached out, searching for him even as sleep released her from the dream. Consciousness took over, awakening the reality that still weighed heavily on her. Isobel touched only empty space as her eyes opened. She lay still, missing Robert Montgomery with her whole being.
As daylight filtered through the shuttered windows, she pushed the covers aside and slid off the bed. Barefoot, she tiptoed to the window and pulled the shutters open. A hazy morning mist, richly attired in the soft amber light of dawn, hovered over the land. The same light pushed its way into her chamber, caressing the rich, panelled walls with a warm touch.
With the dream still haunting her mind, Isobel opened the small wooden box that sat on a table by the window. It held the chess piece; the damaged black knight that she'd taken from Robert's office the day she left. She cradled it in her palm and pondered.
Three days had passed since Elias's proposal of marriage. She had not yet given him an answer, nor had he pressed her for one.
Marriage to Elias would not be difficult. Certainly, she cared for him. Perhaps she even loved him in some measure. Isobel sighed. In truth, she had no desire to marry. At least, not yet. But would Elias leave Stanford if she refused him? She didn't want that, either.
Voices from outside pulled her attention back to the window. She saw Elias walking toward the main gate with David at his side. Something pushed her gaze beyond the gate, her eyes widening as the ghostlike silhouette of a horse and rider emerged from the mist. An odd tingle ran across Isobel's scalp. At the same time, Angmar's voice echoed in her mind.
A day will come, child, when one will ride out of the mist seeking a light for the darkness. Listen to him and obey your heart.
Isobel squinted, trying to make out the man's features. As he approached the gate, recognition hit her like a cold blast of air.
Time stood still. The floor
seemed to fall away and the walls spun in a dizzying circle. Isobel grasped the chess piece so hard, her fingers cramped. With a muted cry, she dropped the piece back in its box, grabbed her shawl, and ran from the room, hair flying in a mass of loose curls.
Her bare feet hardly touched the stairs. Breathless, she waited on the bottom step, hearing the jangle of horse-harness and voices beyond the door. It seemed like forever until the door swung open with a metallic groan and Elias stepped into the hallway. His face held a serious expression. “There's someone here to see you, Isobel.”
He stepped aside, allowing entry to...
“Bernard.” Heart pounding, Isobel stepped of the stair. “What are you doing here?”
“Isobel.” Unshaven and pale, Bernard inclined his head. “Forgive the intrusion, my lady, but I was compelled to visit. Much has happened since you left, and there are things I must tell you.”
“Things?” A sudden fear chilled her to the bone. “About Robert?”
“Aye, although he doesn't know I'm here.”
“Ah.” Her fear eased. “So he's not... I mean, he's still...alive. ”
“Oh, he's alive right enough. But I must speak with you.” He released a sigh. “'Tis of great importance.”
“It must be, for you to come this far. Come, then. We can speak in here.” Isobel's frantic heart slowed a little as she led Bernard into the privacy of the sitting room. Her mind grappled with a hundred imagined reasons that might prompt a man to take such a journey. Judging by his appearance, Bernard was not here to share tidings of joy.
Elias followed them in silence and paused in the doorway. “Do you wish me to stay?”
Isobel looked to Bernard for a response, who shook his head as he spoke. “Some of what I have to say is private.”
“As you wish.” Elias's expression remained guarded, but Isobel heard a hint of resentment in his voice. “If you need me, my lady, I'll be in the office.”
Isobel waited until the door closed, and then gestured to the chairs by the fireplace. “Please, Bernard, sit. Would you like a drink? Something to eat?”
“Thank you, no. I ask only that you hear what I have to say.”
Worried by his eagerness to dispatch his news, Isobel took a slow breath, and sat back in her chair. She clasped her hands together and tried to calm her frenzied thoughts.
“Tell me, then,” she said, “what has brought you to my door.”
“I must do this first.” He pulled a creased scroll from his vest and unfurled it. “It's a terrible weight to bear and one I wish to be rid of. I believe Robert told you about the letter he sent to the king?”
Isobel's brow creased. “Yes, he did. Why?”
Bernard handed her the paper. “Read it, please.”
She took it from him, her hand shaking as she read Robert's familiar writing. The letter appeared to be his request to Edward, begging release from the marriage contract. “I don't understand.” She turned the paper over, ran a finger over the broken seal, and lifted puzzled eyes to Bernard. “Is this a copy?”
“Nay, it's the real thing.”
“Then why...?” She swallowed, unwilling to acknowledge the obvious truth. “Why do you have it?”
“Because I never sent it.”
Isobel sat back, her stomach churning. “But Robert had a reply. How did– ?”
“It was forged, Isobel. I had the reply from Edward forged.”
The letter tumbled into her lap, both hands flying to her mouth.
“For God's sake, why?”
Bernard stood and began to pace. “Because I believed Rob was making a serious mistake. I thought his feelings for you were just an obsession, that once he married Joanna he'd stop wanting you. And if he did have need of you, you'd still be there, only as his...as his...”
“Mistress?” she finished.
“Aye.” He paused and looked at her, guilt etched on his face. “Joanna had the dowry, you had nothing. This way, I thought he could have both. I had no way of knowing about your inheritance. I never thought you'd leave Glendennan.” His jaw clenched. “Nor did I understand how much you meant to him. Please forgive me, Isobel.”
Isobel picked up the letter again, a sudden pain in her temples pulsing in time with her heartbeat. “Does Robert know about this?”
“Not yet. I mean to tell him as soon as we return to Glendennan.”
Isobel gasped, a wave of cold anger washing over her “We? Oh, nay, Bernard. I'll not be returning to Glendennan with you. I'll not sacrifice what little sanity I have left just to ease your conscience. How dare you even suggest it? I'll never be his mistress. Never! You're wicked to think so little of me. My God, if you only knew how much I have suffered.”
He stepped toward her. “Isobel, you don't –”
“Go!” Distraught, she flung the letter at him and dropped her head into her hands, rocking as she wept. Had he ripped at her heart with a knife, it might have pained her less. “Get out. You're no longer welcome here. Just leave me alone.”
She felt his closeness and realized he had knelt at her feet. “Please hear me out,” he said, tugging her hands from her face. “You've misunderstood my meaning.”
“It seems clear enough to me,” she sobbed, struggling against his grip. “Robert has made his choice, no thanks to your interference. He is married to Joanna, and I –”
“Not anymore.”
She ceased her struggles and drew a breath. “What?”
He released her and sat back on his heels. “Robert is no longer married to Joanna.”
Isobel felt the blood drain from her face. “You lie,” she whispered.
“I do not. The marriage was never consummated and was annulled by the Pope a month ago. Joanna has entered a convent. Somewhere in France, I believe.”
Isobel sank back in her chair, her mind struggled to cope with his words. “Oh, dear God. What happened?”
Grimacing, Bernard rose to his feet. “The night of the wedding... ” He paused and closed his eyes for a moment. “The night of the wedding, there was a fire in the stables. Rob tried to get most of the horses out. He saved some, but over thirty of them died in the flames. It was terrible. It was...” He paused again and shook his head. “It was Hell. As Rob came out of the stables, a section of the ramparts collapsed and he was struck by one of the falling beams.”
Isobel's heart missed a beat. “Was he badly hurt?”
“Aye, he was. He didn't regain consciousness for four days. Two days after that, Willoughby left and took Joanna with him. Not even a fortnight later, Rob received a missive saying Joanna had decided to take the veil and had applied to Rome for an annulment.”
“And it was granted?”
Bernard gave a slow nod. “Aye.”
Many more questions begged answers, but one begged louder than the rest, even though it terrified her to ask it.
“Then why, in Heaven's name, did he not send for me?”
“I've pleaded with him to do so many times, but he refuses. He has his reasons.”
“He refuses?” Isobel felt sick. Had his love for her died so quickly? After all he'd said, surely not. Yet, he'd chosen not to contact her, not to send for her. Why? Shivering, she answered her unspoken question and stated her deepest fear. “Because he no longer feels for me.”
Bernard gave a short, harsh laugh. “He no longer feels for you? Sweet Jesus. Your chamber has been locked since you left. No one is allowed to enter except him, and he's in there most days. At least once a week he goes up to High Tarn at dawn and stays there for the entire morning. Apparently, he sits by the waterfall and talks to you as if....” Bernard's voice cracked. “He talks to you as if you were sitting right there beside him. He's failing, Isobel. He's never been the same since you left. Glendennan hasn't been the same. We can all see it. He needs you, and that's why I'm here – to beg for your return. Please come back with me. Please.”
“But I still don't understand why he never... oh, no.” She rose to her feet, a terrible understand
ing filtering into her brain. Is that what she meant? “A light in the darkness.”
Bernard blinked. “What did you say?”
Isobel approached him, her eyes searching his face. There was one more question to be asked, yet she feared she already knew the answer. “You said Rob had his reasons for not wanting my return. What reasons?”
Bernard gave a soft sigh. “After he regained consciousness, we discovered he couldn't see, and so far, there's been little sign of improvement. Rob is blind, Isobel.”
Chapter 24
Elias heard the door open and knew who stood on the threshold. He had heard the raised voices, recognized Isobel's distress, and fought an urge to go to her defence. Now, her silence said more to him than any words she had yet to speak. He turned to look at her, the expression on her face confirming his fears. His heart clenched.
“You're leaving.”
“I'm afraid I must,” she said. “Will you walk with me, Elias? I need to speak with you.”
“Of course.”
Wrestling an unwelcome sadness, he tucked her arm in his as they stepped outside. They left the courtyard and strolled along the lane. A few wispy remnants of mist remained, softening the rigid lines of the land. But the beauty of the morning was lost on Elias. His focus was on Isobel as she explained what had happened at Glendennan. Despite his inner turmoil, he managed to maintain a respectful silence and his composure.
With a rush of affection, he looked down at her. She had her head bowed as she spoke. Her glorious hair, unbound and snared by the sun, shimmered with threads of fire. It reminded him of the first time he'd seen her at Glendennan, when she'd stepped out of the shadows into a patch of evening sunlight.
Elias had grown to love Isobel in a gentle fashion. Being with her had never been difficult or awkward. She had a passionate spirit that he greatly admired. Part of him envied Robert Montgomery. The deep love Isobel had for Glendennan's lord was a rare thing. Elias still mourned the loss of his own.
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