by Ida Curtis
“We need you to stay here, Marianna,” he said.
Marianna opened her mouth to respond, but Chetwynd continued before she could speak. “Isabel may be in danger, and I must get her away as soon as possible. I need your help. In order to fool people into thinking we are staying in my room, I’d like you to ask that food be prepared for our supper. Pretend we are closeted for the night.”
Marianna’s eyes were wide as she looked from one to the other. “Are you going to Aachen, my lord?”
Chetwynd paused only a minute before trusting Mariana with the information. “I’m taking Isabel to my manor. It’s not far away, and few people know its location. Ingram will bring you there as soon as it is safe.”
“Is it really necessary that I stay behind?”
When Chetwynd nodded, Marianna sighed. Then before he could say another word, she said, “The cooks love to spread tales. I’ll tell them you are surprising Isabel with a private supper, and no one is to disturb you.”
Chetwynd grinned. “Excellent. Thank you.”
Marianna turned to Isabel. “I trust Lord Chetwynd knows best, my lady.” When tears appeared in Isabel’s eyes, she added, “He will take good care of you.”
Gilda, who had been watching the exchange, spoke up. “What can I do?”
“I’ve written a letter for the queen, Gilda,” Chetwynd said. “I was going to have Ingram deliver it, but perhaps you would be a better person to give it to her. That way Ingram won’t be implicated in our flight. But I want you to wait until our absence has been noticed. Hopefully, that will be long enough to give us a good lead on anyone who might pursue us. If too many people leave at one time, we will surely attract attention and raise suspicion. Ingram and Jerome, like Marianna, are staying behind.”
Chetwynd placed the missive in her hand. “This letter explains that I have joined Isabel on the mission the queen requested she undertake. The queen promised to send guards along with Isabel, but since one of the kidnappers was spotted in her party, I distrust her intent.”
Marianna gasped when she heard this news, but Gilda remained calm. “I agree you must get away,” Gilda said. “I can use the excuse of being cloistered with a group of nuns as a reason for not delivering the letter right away. I will explain that the nuns are praying for the queen’s safe return to her rightful position at court. I think she’ll like that.”
Looking from one to the other, Chetwynd gave Marianna and Gilda approving nods. “You are both resourceful. I suspect the queen will have met her match in the two of you.”
Managing a little laugh, Isabel wiped her eyes, and the other two women smiled, clearly pleased by Chetwynd’s praise.
Isabel stood up to embrace Gilda. “Take good care of Marianna,” she whispered. She had come to respect Gilda, and she knew in her heart that the competent nun would not only keep her safe but also give her moral support.
“I always wanted a sister, Isabel, and I’m sorry to be saying goodbye to you so soon. But I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again before too long. No doubt the circumstances will be happier. If you ever need a sanctuary, you’ll always have one here.”
Marianna clung to Isabel for a minute as they prepared to part. It occurred to Isabel that only a few days ago Marianna had to leave her with the outlaws, and she regretted leaving her maid behind again.
“We’ll be together again soon, Marianna,” Isabel promised.
“I hear the bells for chapel. We’d better be going,” Chetwynd said, gently taking Isabel’s arm.
As she followed Chetwynd from the room, Isabel glanced back and was comforted by the sight of Gilda and Marianna standing together arm in arm.
Outside, the walkway was crowded with people headed to chapel for vespers. Chetwynd and Isabel walked in the same direction, but at the last minute they turned away toward the stables.
Jerome intercepted them. He was frowning, and Chetwynd was sure he was going to object to being left behind. Instead he said, “I spoke with Ingram. I’ll distract the stable guard while you mount your horses. They are ready for you.”
Chetwynd nodded and was about to speak with his squire when Jerome turned toward Isabel. “Godspeed, my lady,” he whispered.
She reached out to touch his shoulder. “Thank you,” she mouthed.
As they rode away from the stables, Isabel pulled the hood of her cloak around her face. They kept their horses at a slow pace so as not to attract attention. However, once out of sight of Saint Ives, they increased their speed. Earlier in the day they had raced playfully on their way to the bath, but this time they were fugitives. Both of them were aware of the difference.
When they were far enough away so that it was safe to slow the horses, Chetwynd said, “Jerome is not happy with me for leaving him behind. You have won his affection.”
“I’ve come to care for him, as well. Perhaps sharing danger brings people close.” She thought about the time she had spent with the young squire and how he had spoken about Chetwynd. “I wouldn’t worry, my lord, Jerome holds you in high regard.”
“It’s good to know I have two men that I can trust to watch out for you if need be.”
Isabel frowned at the reminder of the danger facing them. “Will those we left behind be safe, my lord?”
“Yes, I’m sure they will. The queen is in no position to alienate anyone. She needs all the help she can obtain.”
Isabel nodded, and silence fell between them as they concentrated on the trail. Since Chetwynd was used to leading and Isabel to following, they settled easily into the pattern that had been established on their long journey from Narbonne.
The trail, one that Chetwynd had followed many times, was a fairly easy one until they reached the mountains. The familiar route gave Chetwynd an opportunity to ponder the decision he had made after their interview with Judith. As a soldier, he often had to react quickly to a dangerous situation and trust that his action was the correct one.
From the moment the queen invited Isabel to a private meeting, he suspected Judith would try to manipulate Isabel in some way. In reviewing the exchange, he didn’t believe he had overreacted to the queen’s request that Isabel deliver a message to Justin. At the very least, her purpose was to separate him from Isabel. The worst possibility was that Judith posed a threat to his wife. In view of this latter possibility, he believed he had made the right decision.
During the interview, he had a chance to compare the two women. The queen was a skilled tactician, but Isabel had been quick to see beyond her gracious manner and concerned expressions of interest. He grinned when he recalled how his wife had imitated the affected smile Judith beamed at everyone.
Although Isabel hadn’t trusted him as he had asked, he could hardly fault her for that. From the beginning he had been less than honest.
Unlike Judith, Isabel never used her feminine wiles to influence him. In fact, he had found her to be stubborn, argu- mentative, and more than willing to fight for what she desired. Although these traits had at times driven him to distraction, he also admired her directness and determination. During their short time together, she had become important to him, and he made a silent vow to do everything in his power to keep her safe.
They had traveled late into the night when Chetwynd turned to signal they should stop to rest the horses. Used to the routine of traveling with him, Isabel slid unassisted from her saddle. Chetwynd checked his horse, then hers, while she walked a short distance to stretch her legs. They had reached a meadow, and the full moon was so bright it cast shadows of the surrounding trees.
Isabel sat in the tall grass and leaned back on her elbows to contemplate the stars. When Chetwynd approached her with the waterskin, she took a long drink.
“How much farther to Aquis?” she asked.
“Not far in distance. But we have to cross those mountains.” He was pointing to a dark formation that loomed on the western horizon. “Aquis is on the other side.”
Isabel could not help but groan at the sight of the high mou
ntains.
“It’s not as bad as it looks from here. There’s a pass we’ll go through. The moon is bright, and there is not much vegetation. It will be light enough to see our way. Once we reach Aquis, we can spend the night in the comfort of my manor house. It will be more restful than trying to sleep in this meadow. Do you think you can continue riding long enough to reach a soft, clean bed?”
“When you put it that way, I’m sure I can.” The thought of sleeping on the ground did not appeal to her. But she lay back to rest, making a pillow of her hood.
Chetwynd stood towering over her, unwilling to get too comfortable. But when Isabel patted the ground beside her and asked what Aquis was like, he crossed his legs and sat down. They had traveled far enough that they didn’t have to worry about being followed.
“It’s a fairly large estate, about the size of your father’s manor. The main source of income is the vineyard, although the farmers also raise other crops. There were already tenant farmers in place when the king granted me the land. I’ve been there several times for short visits, but never spent a long stretch of time there. I think you’ll like it. The manor house is comfortable, and it overlooks a valley where the grapes grow.”
“I’ve always wanted to see a vineyard in operation.”
“Bosco, my chief steward, looks after the place. He’s an excellent manager, and the estate makes a good living. More than enough to support my small army. Bosco’s wife oversees the running of the household. The woman makes the best bread you’ll find anywhere.”
As Chetwynd spoke, he reached out to pull her cloak tighter around her. “Aren’t you cold?” he asked.
Isabel shook her head no. “It’s a lovely night. Is there a swimming pond on your land?”
Chetwynd smiled at her question. He didn’t want to start thinking about Isabel in a swimming pond, so he stood up and extended his hand to help her up. “I’m not sure whether there’s a pond, but you can investigate. You’re just asking me questions about the estate to put off crossing the mountain.”
“You’re getting to know me too well, my lord,” she complained mildly. But Isabel let him help her up. She climbed onto her horse willingly enough, thinking of the soft bed on the other side of the mountain.
The ride up the pass was like a dream sequence. The moon lit the way through huge, dark shapes looming on either side of the trail. Isabel found it comforting to imagine that the moon was a beacon set in the sky to guide them to safety.
As they descended into the valley, the trail became steep. Isabel remembered her fall on a similar descent and used every muscle in her body to hold herself in the saddle. It seemed to take forever to move downhill. By the time they reached level ground, Isabel’s muscles were screaming for a rest.
Chetwynd glanced back at her, then pointed ahead to give her encouragement. She could see a building on a hill in the distance. She nodded, indicating she could make it, and used all her remaining strength to keep from falling out of her saddle. Although it was very early morning, it was still dark when their horses stopped in the courtyard of Aquis.
To Isabel’s surprise, a man appeared to greet Chetwynd and then disappeared again into the main building. She was so tired it was an effort to keep her eyes open. When Chetwynd came to help her dismount, she practically fell on top of him. He gently held her up until two women appeared to help her into the house. They were making comforting sounds, but she was too exhausted to pay much attention to their words. At one point she knew they were offering to help her change her clothes, but when she saw a bed she fell onto it, her face buried in the covers. Ignoring everything else, she surrendered to her need for sleep.
When Isabel awoke, she found herself still facedown on the bed. She felt rested but in need of a wash. The room was large, and the small bag she had packed was on the floor. Although the bed was of ample size, there was no sign of Chetwynd or his clothes.
Using the water basin that had been left for her, Isabel cleaned off as much of the travel grime as possible before changing into fresh clothes. Once she had made herself presentable, she felt ready to explore. She took a deep breath and left her room.
Since there was no one in the dining hall, she took a few minutes to look around at the pleasant but simply decorated room. Someone had taken good care of the hall, as the tapestries were well aired and the rushes under the long tables smelled sweet.
The sound of voices came from a connecting room Isabel guessed to be the kitchen. Through the doorway, she discovered two women cutting up chickens, chatting steadily as they worked. They were so absorbed in their conversation about the arrival of Lord Chetwynd and his bride that they didn’t notice her for a minute. When they did, an embarrassed silence followed. Then they both curtsied in her direction.
“Good day,” she greeted them. “Something smells wonderful. Lord Chetwynd told me the best bread baked anywhere is to be found in this kitchen.”
The older woman beamed, and replied, “Good day, my lady. I’m Gertrude, and this here is Irma. What you smell is that very same bread Lord Chetwynd likes so much. Sit yourself down, my lady, and I’ll get you some, along with a bowl of Irma’s soup.”
Isabel smiled her appreciation, happy to be accepted into the warm intimacy of the kitchen. It was much like the kitchen where she had grown up, a place where the women of the household spent a great deal of time preparing meals. The large table in the middle of the room was high so the women could stand while they worked. Isabel sat on a tall stool at the end of the table to await her soup. The many baskets filled with vegetables sitting on the floor reminded her of what Chetwynd had said about the farmers and their crops. The fresh smell of the vegetables filled her senses.
Gertrude wore her abundant gray hair in a plait that circled her head. The color was the only clue as to her age, for her face was unlined and cheery. She served Isabel a tankard of ale with her soup. “I hope you slept well, my lady.”
“Very well indeed. I see by the sun that I’ve missed all of the morning and part of the afternoon.” Isabel remembered that she had not even undressed the night before. “Are you the women who helped me to my chamber?”
When they nodded, she continued, “I’m afraid I was too tired to be introduced. But I do thank you for leading me to a bed.”
Gertrude smiled again, and Irma, a young woman who couldn’t be more than fourteen years old, gave a hoot of laughter and said, “You dropped onto the bed like a tree felled in the woods, my lady. We didn’t do much.”
If the women were curious about why she had arrived at such an hour after riding all night, they didn’t show it. Instead they answered her questions about what they were preparing. When Isabel commented on the amount of food they were cooking, they informed her that the grape harvest was in progress, and there were workers to feed.
“It’s a very good year, my lady, and the grapes are weighing down the vines,” Gertrude said. “Tomorrow the workers will arrive early, and we’ll need food to feed the lot.”
By the time Chetwynd returned from a tour with his steward, he found Isabel kneading bread at the kitchen table. The women were chatting easily, and he was pleased at how quickly Isabel had made herself at home. Irma was the first to notice him watching them, and Gertrude followed her eyes and fell silent.
“Good day, my lord,” Isabel called cheerfully when she, too, noticed his presence. She hadn’t put on a head covering, and she brushed the hair from her forehead to see him better.
Dressed casually in what were clearly his country clothes, Chetwynd appeared relaxed. His tunic was longer than the one he wore riding and his boots of much softer leather.
When Chetwynd smiled at her and nodded to the other women, it was clear to Isabel that they must be acquainted. The women didn’t seem at all shy about having the lord of the manor in their kitchen.
Isabel was unaware of the flour that dusted her nose, but Chetwynd found the sight irresistible. “There’s some flour right here,” he said as he raised his hand to brush
it away.
It was a surprisingly affectionate gesture that made Isabel’s eyes shine. Rather than dropping his hand, he moved it across her cheek and down to her neck. Irma giggled, and Gertrude turned to glare at the young woman. But neither Chetwynd nor Isabel seemed to notice.
There was a lump in her throat that Isabel had trouble dislodging. When she did manage to find her voice she said, “I’m afraid I slept late, my lord.”
“I’m glad you did. I asked that you not be disturbed. I haven’t been up long myself. Bosco, Gertrude’s husband, has been giving me a tour of the manor. The grapes are being picked, so it’s a busy time. If you wish, I could show you around.”
“I’d like that,” Isabel replied, removing the cloth that protected her dress from the flour.
Isabel was aware that the two women, who had previously pretended to be very busy with their chores, were watching them leave. Once outside, she asked, “What did you tell the people here about us?”
“Just that you are my wife and we are awaiting the arrival of your brother before proceeding to Aachen. I think Bosco wonders why we traveled through the night, but he is discreet. I gave them only the information they need to know.”
They walked toward the vineyard, and the climb down into the valley was gentle. Some of the vines were still heavy with fruit, and there was a large group of pickers just finishing their day. Baskets of the purple grapes were being carried to a wagon. Although it was early evening, the sun was still warm, and the pickers wore loose clothing. The long rows of vines seemed to go on forever.
“Can we sit for a spell?” Isabel asked, indicating a low stonewall on the edge of the vineyard.
“Of course. Are you still tired from last night’s journey?”
“A bit,” she admitted. “But mostly I want to take time to enjoy the view.”
Chetwynd followed her eyes, and was surprised at how much he enjoyed the simple pleasure of sharing the beauty of the valley with her. Isabel was changing the way he viewed Aquis. Up until this visit, he’d thought of the estate as nothing more than a means to earn funds to support his army. Now he saw it as a future home for himself, and considered the possibility that Isabel might want to share it.