Song of Isabel

by Ida Curtis

  “I admit I’ve made mistakes, Ingram. But it is unlikely any of the enemies we mentioned know of my marriage to Isabel. We have to look elsewhere for who might be involved in her kidnapping.”

  “Could someone have followed us from Narbonne?”

  “A possibility. In any case, it is clear that I need to do everything possible to keep Isabel safe.”

  “Have you informed Lady Isabel you’re going to leave her at Saint Ives?” Ingram asked.

  “No. And don’t look at me like that. I’m taking her to the Roman bath at Mainz. I promised her a surprise. I’ll have a chance to talk to her there and inform her of my decision.”

  “Some surprise,” Ingram grumbled.

  “The surprise is the visit to the bath,” Chetwynd said, trying to curb his growing irritation with his friend. “You know how impressed she is by Roman ingenuity.”

  “You’re not going to be able to bribe her with a tour of the bath,” Ingram warned. “Lady Isabel will not look favorably upon being left behind.”

  “A bribe is not what I had in mind,” Chetwynd snapped. But of course he had hoped to make her more receptive to his decision. “I just want to do something she’ll like. She’s been through a lot in the last two days. It should be easier to talk to her in a more relaxed setting, away from the convent.”

  “I think I should come along. You’ll need someone to stand guard if you’re going to try the waters. You’ll be in a vulnerable position in several ways.” Ingram smirked at this thought and added, “We can leave Jerome here to keep an eye on things.”

  “I was planning to ask you to come. I may need some moral support after telling Isabel I’m leaving her behind,” he admitted.

  Ingram raised his eyebrow. “You’re asking me to help convince her?”

  “Try to see my point of view, Ingram. I wouldn’t be suggesting Lady Isabel stay at Saint Ives if I didn’t think it necessary for her safety. She was lucky to have escaped from the kidnappers, but they may try again. And then there are my enemies at court. Gilda often protects and hides women. She will make sure Isabel is well cared for while we work on discovering who is behind the plot.”

  Ingram hesitated, clearly considering his answer. “Lady Isabel has already proven she can take care of herself. Are you sure her safety is the only reason you’re abandoning her?”

  His patience at an end, Chetwynd slammed his hand on the table, causing several heads to turn in his direction. “I’m not abandoning her!”

  Ingram merely shrugged at the outburst. “Perhaps that’s too strong a word. But I fear that’s how Lady Isabel will view your decision.” Ingram paused again. “I shouldn’t be giving you personal advice, but I have become very fond of Lady Isabel. Just be sure you know what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. Then tell Isabel the whole truth.”

  Ingram’s advice startled Chetwynd. In all the years they had been together, he couldn’t remember him ever advising him about personal matters. Although he suspected Ingram had not been happy about his involvement with Queen Judith, his friend had never said a word.

  “It seems everyone has grown fond of Lady Isabel. First Jerome was smitten; now you stand up for her. I understand what you’re saying, Ingram. I promise I’ll do the best I can to make things clear to Isabel.”

  Chetwynd knew Ingram had a point. He couldn’t put off telling Isabel the truth for much longer. She had already heard gossip about Queen Judith and himself.

  “Tell the men they’re free to leave, Ingram. Then wait for me at the stables.”

  Feeling the need for a quiet place to think, Chetwynd headed for the chapel. He and Isabel had missed the morning service. Kneeling, he said a prayer of thanks for Isabel’s safe return and sat back on the bench. When Ingram advised him to consider his true reasons for leaving Isabel behind, his friend was hinting that his involvement with Queen Judith might be influencing his decision.

  Whatever Ingram might think, Chetwynd no longer had any feelings for the queen beyond the sympathy he felt for her situation. She was a young and beautiful woman married to a much older man who had deserted their marriage bed. The king spent his time and energy on religious retreats, leaving Queen Judith on her own to protect her young son’s birthright. When she sought Chetwynd out, he had been eager to help, and later flattered when she invited him into her bed. Even then he had known he wasn’t the only one she had granted this boon.

  In the garden at Narbonne, he had told Isabel that he had an attachment, when in fact his relationship with Judith was over. But rumors died hard, and his career had been hurt by his involvement with the queen. He had selfishly believed that having a wife would put an end to the gossip. What Chetwynd hadn’t thought about was the danger from enemies he had made while helping the queen.

  If he had cause before the kidnapping to suspect he had done Isabel a disservice by marrying her, it seemed a certainty now. It was all the more reason to do everything in his power to protect her. Contrary to Ingram’s advice, Chetwynd still believed it was important to leave Isabel in a safe place, at least until he knew what he was dealing with at court. But Ingram was right about one thing; he had to tell Isabel the truth about his relationship with the queen.

  As Chetwynd arose from the hard pew, he spotted his sister seated at the back of the chapel. Gilda smiled at him, and they left the chapel together.

  “You seemed deep in prayer, or perhaps thought. I waited for you to finish,” she explained. “How is Lady Isabel today?”

  “She’s recovering quickly,” he replied, thinking about the energy she’d displayed in bed. “I’m taking her to the Roman bath at Mainz.”

  Chetwynd took Gilda’s arm and guided her to the walkway around the cloister garden. There were few people around, but Chetwynd kept his voice low and his eyes alert for eavesdroppers.

  “As I’m sure you’ve heard, we’ve delayed our journey for a day. I believe Isabel should stay at the convent with you until I can assess the situation at court. I fear she may still be in danger.”

  When Gilda halted, he had to turn to face her. “Are you sure that’s the best plan?” she asked. “I think she would prefer to be with you.”

  “Yes, I think it’s for the best,” he replied with a patience he didn’t feel. “There are too many people who could have reason to harm Isabel just to spite me.”

  Gilda shrugged, and they started walking again. Both were quiet while two nuns passed them by. Then Gilda said, “We had a long talk last night, Chetwynd. Isabel told me you plan to have your marriage annulled. I found it hard to believe. When you came to her room last night, I saw the expression on your face. Marianna and I left you alone to care for her.”

  Gilda didn’t continue, but Chetwynd knew the question she was asking. “I’m surprised Isabel told you about us, although I guess I shouldn’t be. She is very frank, and I know you’re a good listener. Our marriage is still not consummated, Gilda.”

  His sister nodded. “I’m already fond of Isabel. I wouldn’t want her hurt.”

  Chetwynd interrupted her before she could continue. “Please believe me, I don’t want that either.”

  “I do believe you, Chetwynd. But you didn’t let me finish. I don’t want you hurt either. Be sure you don’t do anything to destroy what you have found with Lady Isabel. She is not Theresa, you know.”

  Moved by her concern for him, Chetwynd embraced his sister. “I’m well aware of the fact that Isabel is nothing like Theresa. I will come back for her. Remember that, and reassure her if you think it’s necessary.”

  When Chetwynd finally returned to her room, Isabel couldn’t hide her relief. He had been gone for so long that she had been afraid he had changed his mind about their outing.

  “Sorry for the delay, Isabel. You look fresh and rested. I see you have managed to hide most of the bruise on your face.” He grinned at her as he leaned forward to take a closer look.

  “Marianna found what she calls powder. I suspect it’s baking flour. Where are we going?”


  “There’s a Roman bath nearby. I believe you mentioned you’d like to see one.”

  Isabel’s mouth fell open, but no sound came out. She rushed forward, about to throw her arms about his neck, then almost as quickly pulled back.

  Sorry that he had made her feel self-conscious about touching him, Chetwynd smiled to put her at ease. “Ingram offered to accompany us. Although it’s not far, it’s best to be cautious.”

  Isabel had hoped they could be alone, but she understood Chetwynd’s concern for safety. Later, as they rode away from Saint Ives, she felt like a falcon set free to soar across the sky.

  “The bath is on the outskirts of Mainz, straight ahead and up that slope,” Chetwynd said.

  “I’ll race you,” she answered. Without waiting for a reply, she urged her horse in the direction he had pointed.

  Isabel had not exaggerated her ability to ride a horse. Chetwynd remembered how outraged she had been that first night when he suggested she would slow the progress of their journey.

  Chetwynd rolled his eyes and spoke to Ingram. “So much for safety. Keep guard at our backs.”

  It only took a minute to catch up with Isabel, and Chetwynd had to smile at the determination on her face as she leaned over her horse’s head, urging him on.

  They galloped their horses like children who had been released from their lessons. When Chetwynd pulled ahead of her, Isabel laughed at the sight of his golden hair flying out behind him. She’d noticed he seldom wore a helmet to cover it. They soon left the discreet Ingram far behind.

  Only upon approaching Mainz did they slow their horses and stop at the impressive stone building that housed the bath. Chetwynd helped Isabel from her horse, and they climbed the wide stairs to enter on the top level. Once the heavy wooden door closed behind them, it was dark inside.

  When Isabel’s eyes adjusted to the dim interior, she saw that the upper floor was a walkway around a square opening. Over an ornate railing, they could look down upon the pool of water located below them.

  Leaning over the railing, Isabel stared down at the dimly lit green bath. She found it difficult to see the bathers. Clouds of steam swirled above the waters, and figures moved in and out of view. Light flickered from torches mounted on the walls. The steady murmur of pumping water added to the flickering light, and rising steam gave the impression of a mysterious underworld. Isabel was mesmerized, and Chetwynd had to grasp her arm to pull her along.

  “The changing rooms are this way. Would you like to try the waters?”

  “Are women allowed in the bath?” Even as Isabel followed Chetwynd, her eyes were still glued to the scene below. She couldn’t tell if the bathers were men or women.

  “Usually women have their own bathing hours, but I doubt anyone will object. We’ll stay in the darkest corner.”

  In a small dressing closet, they stripped down to a single layer of clothing. Isabel’s shift was long, but Chetwynd wore a lightweight shirt that only reached his knees. He took her hand and led her down a narrow staircase to the floor below where they approached the shadowy bathing area.

  Still overwhelmed by the steamy atmosphere, Isabel hesitated, but Chetwynd pulled her along toward the bath. True to his word, he led her to the darkest corner, and with the hum of the pump, and the fact the other bathers discreetly ignored them, it felt as though they were alone.

  When Chetwynd lowered himself over the side and into the warm water, Isabel saw it just covered his shoulders. She sat on the edge of the tiled pool moving her legs in the water. Impatient to have her with him, Chetwynd reached up, placed his hands on her waist, and pulled her down, causing her body to slide against his own.

  By now he should be used to the thrill of holding her, Chetwynd told himself. But each time it happened, he seemed more aware of each soft curve and found it harder to let go. It was Isabel who pulled away and turned her back to him. She paddled through the water, putting a short distance between them.

  From the way she moved away whenever he came near, Chetwynd realized that Isabel was determined to keep her distance. He had planned to do his best to resist the temptation to take her in his arms, but Isabel wasn’t giving him a chance to practice restraint. For some reason that irked him.

  “Do you like the water?” he asked very softly.

  “What?”

  He spoke even softer. “I said, do you like the water?”

  Because the noise of the pump drowned out his words, Isabel moved closer to Chetwynd. “I can’t hear you, my lord.”

  Chetwynd reached out and pulled her against him. For a moment she laughed and struggled, then went still in his arms and whispered, “You tricky knave.” She moved her body against his to tease him. The trick backfired when it aroused her as much as it did him. She wondered how she imagined it could be otherwise.

  “Do you know what you do to me, Isabel?” he murmured into her ear.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck then. “Perhaps we could be very good friends. It would be all right for friends to kiss, I would imagine.”

  He obliged her, and in her enthusiasm, she wrapped her legs around his waist. The kiss lasted a long time while they leisurely reacquainted themselves with each other’s mouths. Isabel returned the thrusts of his tongue. When he seemed to enjoy that, she bit his bottom lip.

  Chetwynd groaned into her mouth. Isabel wondered if she had hurt him and stopped the kiss to stare at him. “Are you all right?”

  “Not really. We need to talk.”

  “Right now?” she asked, making her complaint clear by her frown. The last thing she wanted to do was talk.

  He reluctantly unwrapped her arms from around his neck and pushed her away. “Yes. Right now, but not in the bath. I’m getting out. You swim for a few minutes more, then follow me to that massage room over there.”

  Isabel looked where he was pointing and nodded. She didn’t have much choice but to do what he requested. When she entered the massage room, she found him wrapped in a large flannel. He held one out to her. She turned her back, slipped out of her wet shift under the dry cloth, and wrapped herself in it. When she turned around, Chetwynd was sitting on a high table against the wall.

  As Isabel moved toward him, he separated his legs and made room for her to stand between them. His flannel had slipped to his waist and she stared at his bare shoulder where a large bruise had turned black and blue. “Good lord, I did that,” she said, remembering the rock she had aimed at him when she thought he was a kidnapper. Without thinking, she leaned forward to kiss the bruise.

  Chetwynd shivered in response to her tender gesture. “We have matching bruises,” he said softly. “We’ve both been marked by this journey.”

  And not all the marks are visible, Isabel thought as she realized how much her life had changed in the last two weeks. He might have been thinking the same thing, because his face took on a serious expression. “We need to talk.”

  At the tone of his voice, alarm bells started to go off in Isabel’s mind. He clearly had bad news. She pulled back from him, and he let her go. She moved to sit beside him and stared down at his bare feet, waiting to hear what he had to say.

  “I’m worried about the kidnapping, Isabel. We haven’t made any progress in finding the outlaws responsible.”

  Isabel interrupted before he could say more. “Perhaps it was just an accident that they happened upon me. It was my fault for lagging behind. Can’t we forget about it?”

  “They knew my name, Isabel. It was no accident. I’ve made some enemies at court by siding with Queen Judith and supporting her ambitions for her son. I used my influence to help her and spent a great deal of time in her company.” He paused, knowing it was time to tell the truth. “The queen and I were close for a short time. But it ended before I left court.”

  Isabel’s stomach rolled. She realized she had hoped the rumors were false. He hadn’t said they were lovers, but the message was clear.

  When Isabel kept her head down and didn’t reply, Chetwynd continued
. “It seems unlikely my enemies at court were responsible for your kidnapping. But that doesn’t mean they won’t try to injure you to spite me.”

  Isabel still wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Chetwynd was impatient to be done with his explanation, so he rushed ahead. “I want you to stay at Saint Ives with Gilda when I leave tomorrow.”

  Isabel jumped off the high table. “No!”

  “Let me finish, Isabel.” She was pacing the floor, but he gripped her arm and held her in front of him. “It’s for your own safety. I’ll come back for you as soon as I can make arrangements to ensure your protection. I need to talk to Justin.”

  Unable to pull away, Isabel stared up at him, her eyes blazing. But her voice was steady as she asked, “How long will that take?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “That’s what I thought. Will I stay here forever? Did you ever mean to take me to court? No, don’t shake your head, Chetwynd.” Isabel’s mind was churning furiously. “I know you think I’m an unreasonable bother. Let me ask you this. Whose side is Justin on in this political situation?”

  “Justin tries to stay neutral. As an advisor to the king, he feels it’s his job to mediate conflicts.”

  “And Justin wishes to have me with him, you said as much. You could have accomplished that without marrying me. Well, now you can bring me to Justin, and I’ll be safe with him.”

  Though he knew she was angry, Chetwynd still hoped she would listen to reason. “Isabel, you’re still my wife. Bringing you to Justin isn’t going to change that. You’ll still be in danger.”

  Isabel was outraged that he would use that argument. “No, I’m not really your wife. You can get an annulment right away on those grounds. You can make it clear to everyone that you have no concern about me, and I’ll be safe. In fact, you can take up with Queen Judith again. That will make your position with me very clear to everyone.”

  Chetwynd shook his head. Both Gilda and Ingram had warned him. Even Jerome had something to say on the matter. Why had he thought she would suddenly become reasonable and willingly accept his judgment?