by Ida Curtis
“You know how you told me Lord Chetwynd is in love with someone else?”
Isabel felt her heart jump. She was suddenly alert and prompted Marianna. “Yes, I told you that. Have you learned something?”
“I know who she is. The women were gossiping about it. They were saying they thought you are a much better match for him. In their opinion he was infatuated with the other.”
“Yes, I’m sure they had lots to say. Who is she?”
“They don’t believe it was ever true love, but rather a young man being used by a woman married to an older husband. You know, for the pleasure he could give.”
Isabel groaned. Marianna’s stalling was driving her mad. She spoke as sternly as she could manage in a whispered voice. “Marianna, tell me what you know about the woman now.”
Marianna took a deep breath and said, “It’s the queen. Queen Judith.”
Isabel was speechless. Could the serving women be playing a joke on Marianna? she wondered. She herself had heard many rumors about the queen. Her incredible beauty was often mentioned. The fact that she was much younger than King Louis made her a prime target for gossip.
Isabel knew that Lady Winifred had certain theories about the royal household that she shared with anyone who would listen. Her grandmother had suggested that most of the rumors about Queen Judith had been made up to discredit her. Isabel remembered Lady Winifred saying, “The queen has many enemies. Her three stepsons and the old bishops are terrified of a woman who is willing to fight for the rights of her son. I’m sure they are behind the scandalous tales.”
Was it possible that Chetwynd was involved with the queen? She was beautiful, and the rumors spoke of many lovers. Isabel knew Chetwynd had spent time at court. She could imagine any woman, even a queen, being attracted to him.
“What else did you hear, Marianna?”
“Sarah believes Lord Chetwynd is in danger for supporting the queen. Lothar has a wicked temper and spoke out against Lord Chetwynd at the Spring Assembly. That’s the reason that such a fine knight as Lord Chetwynd was sent to the Spanish March.”
Her new friends had certainly filled Marianna’s ear, Isabel thought. If Queen Judith and Lord Chetwynd were lovers, it would explain a great deal. He had said more than once that he and the other woman were not free to marry, but refused to give more information.
There was also his assignment on the Spanish March, far removed from the palace. She wondered if Justin had played a part in the drama.
“My lady, are you all right?” Marianna asked.
“Yes, I’m fine, Marianna. You’ve given me a lot to think about. Now go to sleep.”
“The women think you are much better for him, my lady. Henny has known him since he came to court, and she says . . .”
Isabel interrupted her. “Yes, I’m sure she has a lot to say, Marianna, but I’ve heard enough for one evening. I appreciate you telling me what you heard. Don’t concern yourself. Lord Chetwynd was very open about the matter, so I knew there was someone.”
“Aye, that’s why I told you. You know I’m not one to repeat gossip.”
“I know that. Now please go to sleep.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you, my lady.”
Isabel sighed, rolled over, and pulled a blanket over her head. What had she gotten herself into? Not only was Chetwynd involved with the queen, but he had also made a powerful enemy of at least one of the king’s sons. It was no wonder that the guests at the monastery were so surprised by his marriage.
Then another thought struck her. She rolled toward Marianna, who had already fallen asleep, and shook her arm.
“What? What is it?” Marianna asked in a sleepy voice.
“Does Ingram have a wife?”
“Yes. Hannah. You woke me up to ask me that?”
“Was she at supper? Did I see her?”
“No. She was tired. Said she was awakened in the middle of last night by an intruder.”
Isabel grinned in the dark. “Go back to sleep, Marianna.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE JOURNEY PRESENTED A NEW CHALLENGE the following morning when the travelers awoke to heavy rains. At first Isabel, still warmly wrapped in her blankets, enjoyed the sound of the steady beat of rain on the tent. If she could have stayed under cover, she would have been happy. But it was soon evident by the moans and groans of the women around her that staying in bed was not an option. Marianna was already digging out what protective wear she could find in the bundles of spare clothing.
Preparations for departure were accomplished with speed and efficiency. The tents were struck only after everything else had been done. Isabel wore a heavy wool cape with a deep hood that shielded her face and made it difficult to move. Jerome, quick to observe the problem, came to help her mount her horse. When she thanked him, she was rewarded with his now familiar smile.
He was the only one in good spirits. The rest of the men and women, no doubt afraid their journey would be delayed by bad weather, wore long faces. As they rode, the pelting rain drowned out all other sounds, and the darkness of the forest enveloped the riders.
The privacy of the rain-drenched ride gave Isabel a chance to think about what Marianna had told her the night before. Queen Judith’s reputation had reached legendary proportions. Although the most popular stories were about her physical beauty and numerous lovers, there were also tales that reflected better on her character.
The queen was said to support artists and urge education for everyone. Her efforts were compared to those of King Charles, now called Charlemagne by his admiring subjects. Queen Judith’s reputation made it hard to imagine her as a real person. Isabel wondered how Chetwynd had come to be one of her lovers.
The fact that a man loved a woman other than his wife was not unusual. Marriages were arranged to benefit families and provide heirs with little concern given to the compatibility of the marriage partners. But Isabel could not believe Chetwynd would enjoy the notoriety of being in love with a legend. In the short time she had known him, his temper had flared several times when his privacy was threatened. He did not seem a man who would appreciate being the source of gossip.
Deep in thought, Isabel was surprised when Ingram suddenly reined in beside her. He leaned close so that he could be heard over the rain. “Sorry, my lady, I didn’t mean to startle you. We are stopping for the night at a manor house outside of Arles. It’ll take another hour, perhaps two, to get there. I hope traveling in the rain isn’t too difficult for you. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”
“No, thank you, Ingram. But it will be nice to sit in front of the fire and dry out.”
“We’re all looking forward to a warming fire, my lady. I think you will enjoy the manor house we’re visiting. Lord Herbert and Lady Evaline are gracious hosts, and there are likely to be many guests. Our original plan was to go farther and spend another night camping, but we’ll be stopping early because of the rain. Chetwynd is well acquainted with our hosts, and it should be a pleasant stop for you.”
Isabel beamed, pleased that Ingram had taken the time to speak with her and tell her what to expect. Each day she felt more comfortable in his presence.
Wishing for a little extra assurance that Ingram was married, she asked, “Did your wife sleep better last night?”
Ingram seemed surprised at her words, then grinned. “I think she did, my lady.”
Because of this exchange, Isabel was in fine spirits when they arrived at their destination. The manor was much statelier than the one in which Isabel had grown up, and she had been given a spacious room. The first thing she did was to bathe. Then she relaxed as Marianna dried her hair by the fire, gently brushing the tangles from Isabel’s many curls.
“Ingram told me there are likely to be many guests in the great hall tonight, Marianna. Apparently our host enjoys entertaining. I don’t want to make the same mistake I did at the monastery. We need to find something appropriate for me to wear.”
“I have been
thinking about it, my lady. I brought in the parcel with a few of your mother’s gowns.”
Marianna opened the case she referred to and shook out a forest-green garment, holding it up for Isabel’s inspection. “What do you think? Dark green suits you. I can hang it for a spell to get the wrinkles out.”
Examining the velvet dress, Isabel frowned, wishing she had more knowledge of fashion. Their home at Narbonne was isolated, and her father entertained few visitors of any importance. She wondered if things had been different when her mother was alive.
“Are you sure the velvet fabric is not too elegant? I’d hate to be overdressed.”
Marianna hesitated. “Do you want me to try and find out what others are wearing?”
The gown had a fitted bodice, high waist, and roomy sleeves that were split at the elbow to allow air to circulate.
“No, that’s not necessary, Marianna. I like the dress. It will be warm enough to banish the chill of the wet evening. Let’s pretend we know what we’re doing.”
Marianna giggled. “The dress will be beautiful on you, my lady. Now let me do something special with your hair.”
Entering the great hall an hour later, Isabel was gratified to notice approving glances aimed in her direction. Her elegant gown was not at all out of place, and Marianna had done wonders with her headdress. She had skillfully braided a creamy silk scarf into Isabel’s dark hair, and lifted it above her head. While the scarf held her abundant curls in place, it allowed a few strands to trail down the back of her neck. A thin veil covered her hair without obstructing the view of Marianna’s handiwork.
Receiving admiring glances was a new experience for Isabel, and she said a silent thank-you to Marianna. As a finishing touch, her maid had suggested she wear a piece of jewelry from her mother’s collection. An ornate pewter cross with a delicate chain hung just above her breasts.
Lord Chetwynd, who hadn’t seen Isabel all day, had been watching for her arrival. But even if he hadn’t been keeping an eye on the entrance, the commotion she caused would have alerted him to her presence. The evening before, it had seemed as though sitting on a log in front of a fire was her natural habitat. This evening she was a fashionable vision as she entered the great hall. Even her slightly nervous smile was charming. There was little trace of the frightened creature he had first seen entering the dining hall at Narbonne.
Isabel smiled more widely when she spotted Chetwynd, and he strode toward her. Although he had no wish to be married, he was becoming more and more interested in bedding his imaginary wife. Since she had already had a lover, it shouldn’t make a difference in obtaining an annulment when the time was right. He placed his hand on her elbow, and it slid through the slit in her sleeve to settle on her soft skin. He felt her shiver at his touch and his mouth went dry, as he knew his hand wasn’t cold.
“You look lovely,” he whispered.
Chetwynd found it difficult to keep his eyes from the cross around her neck. It sat just above sweetly rounded breasts displayed to great advantage by the low-cut gown.
Distracted by his rough hand on her sensitive underarm, Isabel found it difficult to breathe. She fought to control the shivers his touch sent through her body.
“Thank you, my lord.” Her voice sounded husky to her own ears, and she tried clearing her throat. “Marianna was feeling particularly creative.”
“She had excellent material to work with.” Remembering how her hair had looked spread out around her when she slept on the ground near the pond, he had to clear his own throat. “Come. I’ll introduce you to our hosts.”
Originally Chetwynd had hoped to avoid stopping at the elegant manor, wishing to avoid a repeat of the scene with Lady Pacilla at the monastery. But they had needed a dry place to spend the night, and he knew their hosts to be kind people. Chetwynd ignored the murmurs of the other guests as he steered Isabel toward Lord Herbert and Lady Evaline. He could depend upon them to contain their curiosity, but he wasn’t sure about the others in the hall. Chetwynd feared some of those present might be eager to test Isabel’s reaction to palace gossip. He vowed to stay at her side.
Carried along by Chetwynd’s guiding hand, Isabel stared in awe at her surroundings. The high ceilings stretched into the distance, and there were so many people she couldn’t see the end of the hall. The tables were set with gold and silver that glittered in the bright light from the torches mounted on the walls.
As Isabel observed the gowns of silk and brocade worn by the women present, she knew Marianna had chosen wisely. Even the men were attired in lavish tunics decorated with jewelry. In contrast, Chetwynd’s long-sleeved black tunic, although of fine material, was plain and unadorned. But his golden hair and well-shaped form were all he needed to set him apart from other men.
Lady Evaline, tall and elegant in a bright-red gown, welcomed Isabel warmly. “I’m happy to meet you, my dear. Lord Chetwynd has been a favorite of mine since his days in the household of Count Jonas. We used to visit there often. Chetwynd and your brother, Justin, were young pages then. I never knew a livelier pair. You look a little like your brother.”
“Thank you, my lady. I’m most eager to see Justin again.”
“It pleases me to see Lord Chetwynd finally wed. You are lovely, Lady Isabel, and I’m sure you make him proud.”
Warmed by her words, Isabel tried to ignore the unease she felt at the deception she was perpetuating. She couldn’t help but wonder what Lady Evaline would think of her if she discovered theirs was not a true marriage. All Isabel could do was smile and thank her hostess for her kind words.
Lord Herbert was shorter than his wife, and not nearly as distinguished looking, but he made up for his rather ordinary appearance with a friendly and open manner. He asked about Isabel’s grandmother, whom he seemed to know well. Isabel was startled to realize that her grandmother had, at one time, been a part of this gracious world. Although she knew Lady Winifred had traveled widely in her youth, her grandmother hadn’t told her many tales from that period of her life.
The other visitors in the hall seemed well acquainted with one another. As Isabel and Chetwynd moved through the crowd, she clung to his arm for support. People were clearly eager to meet her. They expressed subtle surprise at the marriage with comments like, “How interesting to find you wed, Lord Chetwynd.” Then the same questions were repeated over and over. “Did Justin arrange the match? How long have you been betrothed?”
At first Chetwynd answered their questions patiently, and Isabel followed his lead in allowing the guests to believe Justin had arranged the match. But as time went on, she noticed Chetwynd was becoming more and more tense. She suspected the relentless curiosity of those they met was the cause. Isabel wondered how many of those present knew of his involvement with the queen.
Without her realizing it, Isabel’s tightening hold on Chetwynd’s arm communicated the strain she was feeling. He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “You’re stopping the blood flow in my arm, Isabel.”
She immediately loosened her grip. “I’m not used to meeting so many people, and the noise is overpowering.”
“You’ll have to get used to it. The scene at court will be much more of the same.”
His terse answer seemed out of keeping with his earlier attentiveness. Isabel pulled her hand from his arm. She was suddenly resentful that he had placed her in this position. Chetwynd should have given her enough information to prepare her for the type of curious attention she was receiving. Even if he didn’t want to reveal the identity of his lover, he could have at least informed her that his attachment was well-known. She suspected he dreaded the necessity of introducing her at court.
Chetwynd sensed her displeasure. “Forgive me, Isabel. I didn’t mean to sound abrupt. You look lovely, and everyone is pleased to meet you. Perhaps it’s time we had a talk. I’ll come to your room after supper.” Then to be sure she didn’t misunderstand his meaning, he added, “Let Marianna know we’ll need a little time alone.”
Isabel
nodded, thankful for his change of attitude. She hoped he was going to confide in her at last. Until then, she was determined to enjoy the evening.
There were more introductions and polite conversation during a long meal made up of lavish meat and fish dishes. When everyone had eaten their fill, the tables were pushed back to make room for entertainment. Chetwynd had gone off to talk with the men, and Isabel, surrounded by women, gradually felt more at ease. She was fascinated as the musicians filled the hall with music, and the women began to dance.
Unfamiliar with the courtly promenades, Isabel stood on the sidelines to watch. Soon Lady Evaline appeared at her elbow and urged her to join in. When her hostess insisted, Isabel followed her into the line of women. She managed the reels by watching the dancers in front of her, and she soon found the steps easy to follow.
From time to time she noticed Chetwynd’s eyes upon her as he spoke with a group of lords she had met earlier. Judging from their facial expressions, they were engaged in serious deliberations. She wondered briefly why the discussions caused so many to frown, but the music and gaiety of the dancers soon captured her attention.
When the musicians took a break, Chetwynd appeared at her side. “We should retire early,” he said. “I want to leave at daybreak.”
At the door of her bedchamber, Isabel remembered Chetwynd’s request that she ask Marianna to leave them alone. There was no need, as her maid disappeared as soon as she saw Lord Chetwynd. Now that it came time to talk, Isabel was nervous. While Chetwynd made himself comfortable on some cushions in front of the fire, she busied herself pouring the wine someone had set out for them.
Certain that Chetwynd was about to explain his relationship with the queen, Isabel wished to delay hearing his story. “You seemed to be in grave discussions with the other guests, my lord. Is there bad news?”
“You’re very observant. There is a matter of concern.” He took the goblets of wine from her hands and made room for her to sit on the cushions beside him. “There have been reports of bandits on the road ahead. Ordinarily we wouldn’t worry, but there is speculation that the bandits have been receiving information about caravans moving through the area. They probably have spies who report when there is something of value to steal.”