Susan Spencer Paul

by The Bride Thief

  His arms lowered slowly to his sides, and he clenched the brush so tightly that his fingers whitened. “I do not know what is true and what isn’t. My lady, I do not want to give you pain.” He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, Isabelle could see within his own suffering and sorrow.

  “Oh, God.” She lifted shaking fingers to cover her lips, even as hot tears coursed down her cheeks. “Oh, God.”

  “My lady!” He caught her as her legs gave way, and gently lowered her to the straw, kneeling before her. “I pray you, do not. What I saw is what Lady Evelyn has described to you, but I cannot swear that what I saw is what she claims it to be. At first, I thought it could be nothing else, but Senet has made me understand—”

  “Senet!” she cried. “He knew of this?”

  Aric reddened with remorse. “I told him, and the others. Please forgive me!” he said quickly, when she tried to jerk free of his hands.

  “Am I the only one at Talwar who never knew that my husband was bedding my cousin!” she demanded, weeping. “All this time, you’ve known. You’ve spoken with me, shared a table with me, and known—all of you!”

  “I’m sorry,” Aric said pleadingly. “Oh, my lady, my lady, please do not! What can I do to help you? Only tell me, I pray, and I will do whatever you ask.”

  “Stay,” she managed, gripping his hands tightly. “Only stay…a moment.”

  “As long as you will it, my lady.”

  They sat together in the straw until Isabelle had grown calm. Her face was yet stained with tears, red and puffy, but her breathing was even, and her mind was clear. By the time she left Aric alone in the stables, she had secured two things: his promise to lend her aid when she at last left Talwar, and the composure that she required to face her husband.

  Kneeling before the largest of the wooden storage chests in his chamber, Justin ran one hand over the last of the ornate account books that had only just arrived with the courier who came from Gyer every week.

  They were beautiful books, twelve in total, all fashioned to Justin’s exact specifications in the finest leather, richly ornamented in an elegant design made of etched gold and studded sapphires. On the front page of each book were the initials I. B., beautifully painted in the illustrated style that was currently so popular. Isabelle would like them, he hoped, and when she had filled each one to its capacity, he would order new ones, even more beautiful than these. The next books, he thought with satisfaction, would have Isabelle’s portrait in them, just as her mother’s books had. He would hire the finest painter in England to come and do the work, and when their children were grown, they would smile with the same love over their mother’s beautiful face as Isabelle and Senet now did.

  Only two more days. Two more days, and Isabelle would be churched and ready to make her choice about their marriage. But he already knew, from the sweet and open affection she had gifted him with these past several days, what her decision would be. They would be man and wife again, and all would be as new.

  It had been hard to keep his distance since that night when he asked her forgiveness. With his wretched behavior put behind them, they had once more begun to embrace the closeness that had meant so much to him and, Justin believed, to Isabelle, as well. The nights had been endless, lying in his chamber so close, wanting her, aching with the need to love her, even just to set his hand in hers and know that she was there. But the days had been wonderful; sitting with her at table and conversing again, as they used to do; playing chess in the evenings before the fire, smiling and speaking in low voices, teasing and laughing. Twice in the past week she had come out to the smithy and stayed an hour and more—only to be with him, she said. His happiness had been an almost painful pleasure, and he had thanked God that he should know such goodness in his life.

  The books would be his first gift to her, given as soon as Hugo and Evelyn had ridden away from Talwar. The second gift would come later, after he had shown her, with the worship of his body, and told her, with the words of his mouth, how very much he loved her. She would be more than pleased with it, he thought, with the house in London he had bought for her. It would serve as their residence each winter—a fine dwelling where she could practice her love of finances as closely as she pleased, while he refined his love of sword making at the special smithy he would have built.

  Later, when they had children to care for, he would spend his days in London educating them in the ways of God and man, for London, despite its many failings, at least had that to offer—enough of churches and charities, of the rich and the destitute, to provide a suitable knowledge of such things. His lads would come with them, if they wished, or they could remain at Talwar. Soon enough, his boys would be leaving him to begin their own lives, taking with them all that he had been able to impart, and Justin would fill their places with new lads, eager to learn and grow. For that alone, he and Isabelle must remain at Talwar for most of each year, but he would not deny her the pleasure that a month or three in London would bring her. It would only become something looked forward to in their lives, never regretted.

  Through the adjoining door, Justin heard someone entering the other bedchamber, and he quickly placed the book inside the chest and closed the top.

  “Isabelle?” he called out as he stood and moved toward the door.

  She gave no answer, but he heard the unmistakable sound of the bed curtains being pulled aside, and he pushed the adjoining door wide in time to see Isabelle lying down on the bed, facing away from him.

  “Good day, beloved,” he said, stepping into the room. “Are you going to nap?” It was something she had done nearly every day since her illness passed. He had recovered much more quickly, and had suffered much less, from the strange sickness that had seized them both.

  “Yes,” she said, her voice dull and weary.

  He sat beside her on the bed, placing a hand upon her arm. “Are you feeling unwell?”

  “Only tired.”

  “Shall I stay with you until you have fallen asleep?” With his fingertips, he began to stroke along the sleeve of her surcoat, from her shoulder to her elbow. He was tempted to kiss her, to press his mouth against the smooth, curving skin beneath her ear, but knew the temptation to do more would be too great. Already his body had begun to harden with desire, simply from being so near her.

  “Nay. I wish to rest alone.”

  He frowned at the sadness of her tone, and leaned forward to peer into her face. “Have you been crying? Isabelle, what’s wrong?”

  She was silent. He pressed his hand against her arm and repeated, “Isabelle?”

  Her voice, when she spoke, was a solemn whisper. “Evelyn told me about the child she carries.”

  “Did she?” he asked softly, torn between relief that the truth was finally known and worry over Isabelle’s strange behavior. “I am glad that she has done so, for I wanted you to know before now. I’m sorry if the. news has upset you, but I felt you should have the truth of why I have allowed Evelyn to stay at Talwar, and also why I am sending her away.”

  “Don’t send her away.”

  “What?”

  She drew in a breath and released it shakily. “I said, do not send Evelyn away. There is no need.”

  The words surprised Justin. He almost couldn’t think of how to respond. “Isabelle,” he began tentatively, “I understand the concern you bear for your cousin, but you have not been happy with Evelyn’s presence, and I believe it will be best for her to go to Siere.”

  “I will try to be happy,” she said. “I’ll not be the cause of any difficulties, I vow.”

  “Oh, my dearest, I did not mean that you would,” he assured her quickly. “It is you I think of in sending Evelyn away. Do you not know that your happiness is important to me?”

  “But what of Evelyn? Surely you desire her happiness above all things, especially now. You cannot want her to leave.”

  “I wish Evelyn all good things,” he admitted, “and pray that God will be kind to her. But what I want is fo
r you to be content again, for us to have peace together.”

  “But you do not want her to go.”

  The laughter that formed on his lips at such a foolish consideration died unuttered, and he began to wonder at her insistence. “It does not matter to me, in truth,” he said.

  “Keep her here,” Isabelle countered. “Write to your brother, Father Hugo, at Briarstone and tell him to go on without her. You have been good to me, my lord, and I’ll not repay such kindness with base ingratitude. You need never worry that I will interfere in your happiness, or Evelyn’s. I shall always be thankful to you for what you have done for both Senet and me.”

  He was silent, struggling to push away the suspicions that her words gave rise to. Straightening, pulling his hand away from her arm, he said, “You are my wife, Isabelle. I put no one’s happiness above yours, nor will I ever. Evelyn will leave, and I will not regret her absence.”

  “It is not fair to either her or the child,” Isabelle replied stonily. “Or to you. I should be the one to go, and I will willingly do so. If it would not shame you, I will go to your brother, Sir Alexander, and will take Senet if you do not wish him to remain at Talwar.”

  He stood, then, as the dark suspicions became clearer and more fully understood. Isabelle yet believed that he had betrayed her with her cousin. She believed that he wanted Evelyn, and none of his efforts to prove his love these past many days had made a moment’s difference. She did not believe him. She would never believe him. The pain of that knowledge was as nothing that Justin had ever before known, and he felt hollow, suddenly, so empty and hollow that he could see no reason why his life should go on.

  “I want to go,” she continued, her voice absent of emotion. “Sir Alexander has ever appreciated my love of numbers. He understands me well. Just as I think you and Evelyn understand each other. You and I both know now what a mistake it was to take me rather than to wait for her, but it is a mistake, by our fortune, that can easily be made right.”

  He was a fool. When would he accept the truth about himself? Isabelle didn’t want him, just as Alicia hadn’t. Somehow—perhaps it had been born in him—he lacked the way of winning a woman’s heart. Everything he had done to show Isabelle what he felt for her seemed foolish to him now. All the plans he’d made were useless. Worthless. She had rejected all of it, all of him. And now she wanted to go. He felt like weeping, but thought that if he let himself so much as shed one tear, he would go mad with his pain.

  “I…I want you to know,” she said, her voice cracking like hard ice, shuddering with a sob that he realized she had been striving to keep at bay, “that these months with you have been the m-most wonderful I’ve ever knknown.”

  She covered her face with both hands and gave way to a mournful, wracking grief that shook her entire body. Justin stopd where he was, frozen, unable to offer her comfort in the face of his own hurt. He stayed where he was until she had calmed, some moments later, her ragged breathing loud in the chamber’s silence.

  “I do not want Evelyn,” he told her, struggling to keep the words even and steady. “I have never wanted her, and have never betrayed you with her. I’ve told you this before, but you’ve determined, for whatever reasons must seem good to you, not to believe me.” He swallowed against the sharp ache in his throat. “I have only asked this one thing of you since we wed, that you trust me, even a little. I cannot think of anything that I have done to deserve less than that from you, except perhaps for the words I once spoke to you in anger. But you have forgiven me that, or so you said. And now, if, after the months we have had together, you have such little faith in me, then you are right. It was indeed a mistake for me to choose you over every other woman, and you must go to my brother, whom you clearly trust more fully.

  “But heed me, Isabelle. I will yet send Evelyn away, for I will never again be able to look upon her face without remembering what her presence here has cost me. I thought once to be kind to her, to be honorable as a knight of the realm, but if I had known that by giving her shelter I would one day lose you, I would never have let her stay. Although perhaps that is a foolish thing to say, for even if she had not come, you never would have given me your trust, or your love. Would you?”

  She fell so still that he almost thought her breathing had stopped, but the next moment she pushed up on her arms and swung toward him, her face wet with tears and filled with shock.

  “Justin,” she said, her eyes wide upon him.

  He felt dead within; she no longer had the power to hurt him, not more than she already had.

  “I will write Alexander within the hour, and ask him to send an escort to take you, and Senet, if he desires to accompany you, to Gyer. Forgive me if I am not here to bid you Godspeed, but I fear that urgent business will keep me from Talwar for some time. I wish you happiness, Isabelle. May you find it with Alexander as you were not able to find it with me.”

  He left the chamber, shutting and locking the adjoining door, and ignored Isabelle’s pleading from the other side as he wrote a missive to Alexander and then packed a traveling bag. An hour later he had given the boys their instructions and, without speaking a word to anyone else in the household, mounted Synn and ridden out of Talwar.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “But why did Sir Justin leave in such a way?” Odelyn asked, setting her head more comfortably against Senet’s shoulder. “He seemed so unhappy.”

  Senet pressed his mouth against her forehead in a gentle kiss before murmuring, sleepily, “I do not know. He and Isabelle. must have had an angry spate, for there was surely no warning. And my sister has never looked more downcast, although she will not tell me what troubles her so. She spent most of the day closeted together with Evelyn, and that is not like her.”

  “Nay, ‘tis very strange,” Odelyn agreed, stretching out a hand to place it over the place where she could feel Senet’s heart beating. “I wish you would make me your wife now. Why can we not be handfasted?”

  Smiling into the darkness of the stable, where they lay together, warm and comfortable, in the loft, he replied, “If you think it is because I do not want you, then you are far wrong. ‘Tis the most difficult thing I have ever done, keeping myself from taking your maidenhead. But we will wait” He kissed her nose. “I love you too well to get you with child before you are full ready, also before we are wed.”

  “I am nearly too old!” she chided. “Most girls my age have at least one child or more. I shall be mocked as useless.”

  Rising over her, he said, “Never,” and kissed her mouth. When he lifted his head, he teased, “I can think of many good uses for you, my pretty wife-to-be. I will weary you from being such a demanding husband.”

  She slipped her hands beneath his tunic, pressing him closer to herself. “Senet, please…”

  “Sweet Odelyn, do not tempt me so,” he murmured against her lips, taking them again with his own, and then once more, even more fully. “I want you so much I dream of you even when I am awake.”

  “Then why will you not take me?”

  “I will, I vow, an hour after we have been wed.” He stroked the backs of his fingers across her cheek. “But not before then. You will not know dishonor because of me, sweet Odelyn, for I love you more than my own life, and will never bring you shame. It is bad enough that we meet here in the stables so often, sneaking about as if we were thieves. I should be stronger and resist such temptation, but it is impossible. You have given me so much, my very life…”

  She turned her face to kiss his fingers. “I love you, Senet.”

  His expression filled with wonder. “And that most of all, that you should love me, when I am all that is wrong, so unsightly and ill-favored.”

  “You are not!” she insisted with great indignation.

  “I have been a slave,” he reminded her. “And am scarred from head to foot.”

  Her fingertips, wandering beneath his tunic, found one of the scars he spoke of and caressed it with gentle care. “I would take them from you,
if I could, but only because they bring you sorrow,” she said. “For me, I think you are very beautiful, everywhere.”

  He laughed lightly. “I beseech you, my dear lady, never to say such as that in Aric’s or Kayne’s hearing. They would tease me until the end of my life, I vow.”

  She joined him in laughter, though it died away with his as their gazes held fast

  “Odelyn,” Senet whispered, lowering his mouth to hers with reverent care, “I love you so.”

  He did not know how many minutes passed before the sound of the stable doors opening brought him to his senses, but when he lifted his head at last, he was full dizzy with sensation. Beneath him, Odelyn moaned her dissent and tried to pull him back down.

  “Wait,” he whispered, and put a finger against her lips to warn her to be silent.

  “Hurry!” It was Evelyn, clearly irate and nervous. “Come along! Why are you so slow? Do you want to be caught?”

  “Nay.”

  At the sound of Isabelle’s weary voice, Senet and Odelyn exchanged surprised glances.

  “Then come along! Help me to get the horses saddled.”

  Sitting up, Senet silently crawled to the edge of the loft and peered down. In the darkness, he saw both his sister and his cousin, heavily cloaked, each of them working to saddle a horse.

  “Are you certain Kayne won’t stop us? He’s always so vigilant when he’s taking his turn as guard.”

  The heat of Odelyn’s arm pressed against Senet’s as she joined him at the edge. He spared a glance toward her, meeting her gaze swiftly in an exchange of shared disbelief.

  “Kayne won’t even know we’ve gone, I promise you,” Evelyn said with satisfaction. “And Aric left earlier, taking your missive to Briarstone, did he not? Senet and the others will be soundly asleep, so we’ve no need to fear. Hurry!”

  The women continued to saddle their steeds, until they were nearly done, and Isabelle suddenly stopped.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Evelyn hissed. “We need to get on our way, and quickly! Sir Christian won’t wait for you forever, but will come to Talwar in search if we tarry too long.”