She departed and would not return for some time. Not that anybody would notice. Isolde returned her attention to the jousters as the pair prepared to charge.
Thomas Brisbois of Kelso’s chainmail was muddy from his previous joust, but he was now donning a fresh surcoat, the green and white vivid against his dirty armor. He settled the lance in his arm, and the horses charged at one another, their hooves throwing up globs of mud as they ran. They collided in a spray of splinters as their lances broke against the other.
The joust was a long one, made grueling by the unfortunate weather. As Isolde observed the sport, she listened to the conversations around her. There were details about the jousts that day, of course. Apparently, several horses spooked earlier during a particularly nasty bit of the storm, and in his joust with Sir Julian, Sir Edward broke his leg when his horse fell on him.
No other pertinent information drifted from the surrounding nobles. Certainly nothing about the Ross clan. But then, that would most likely come from Matilda. Servants had more salacious gossip than their masters.
A large man pushed through the crowd of peasants, shoving people from his path as he went. Though many gave cries of offense, none challenged his presence. In fact, most darted out of his way rather than be removed by force.
The man was two heads taller than most, his face set in a darkened scowl, his shoulders as solid as a great stone and spanning just as wide. He was more beast than man. A shiver ran down Isolde’s back.
“Is that him?” the woman behind Isolde asked.
Isolde leaned in her seat along with several other people to watch as he disappeared under the stands.
“Aye,” her companion replied. “No one has ever been able to defeat Edmund the Braw.”
Ice chilled Isolde’s veins. That massive beast of a man was Edmund the Braw?
Her breath came short. No one had told her he hadn’t been defeated. She wouldn’t last minutes fighting against a man such as him. Cormac would last longer, but…
Undefeated.
Isolde pressed her hand to her chest as though she could return the panicked beat of her heart to its normal pace.
Moments later, Matilda arrived with a goblet of wine in her hand. “Forgive me, my lady, for it took some time to find the particular wine I know you prefer.”
Isolde accepted the goblet and gave her maid a knowing look. “Please tell me you were able to get exactly what I asked for?”
Matilda nodded solemnly. “Indeed, I did, my lady.”
Isolde’s pulse tripped over itself with relief. Matilda had found something.
Mayhap the information could prove Brodie was up to something nefarious. If Isolde could expose him to Lord Yves, it might be so bad that he would be placed under arrest and she wouldn’t have to fight his champion. She wouldn’t have to ensure Cormac did not take her place. With trembling fingers, she brought the wine to her numb lips and took a sip.
She wanted to leave the joust and seek privacy to find out exactly what Matilda had learned. If it was something that would spare her the fight, they would need to begin planning immediately.
After several sips of wine that she could not taste, Isolde handed the goblet back to Matilda. “I’m afraid all this rain has given me quite a headache. I should like to retire.”
Matilda immediately stood. “Of course, my lady.”
Together, they left the stands and began the slow walk toward the castle. This time, both women were armed with daggers. The Rosses would not catch them off guard again.
The journey back to the castle was uneventful. Thanks be to God.
“The news I bear is not as you think,” Matilda said in a low tone meant only for Isolde.
Isolde held out a hand to stop her maid from speaking further. “Say nothing until we return to our chambers.”
She knew all too well exactly who could be listening. She didn’t want the Ross clan to have any knowledge of what she had gleaned lest they try to thwart her plans. She couldn’t afford any opportunity to be ruined.
As soon as the door to Isolde’s rooms were closed, she looked to her maid. “What is it? What did you find?”
Matilda’s expression crumpled. “I’m afraid ’tis not good news.”
Isolde’s heart squeezed. “Tell me.”
“The Ross clan is involved in a plot to overthrow King Richard.”
Isolde had been right. The Rosses were involved in something terrible. Her mind immediately raced with what she could do with such information. Surely, Lord Yves would have the Ross clan arrested.
“This is excellent news,” she exclaimed.
Matilda appeared chagrined. “They are involved due to an agreement with an English noble.” She looked down at her feet and spoke the most awful words. “The Earl of Easton.”
The air sucked out of Isolde’s chest. “My brother? Gilbert?”
Matilda gave a slow nod. “It is why he allowed Brodie time alone with you and how he was in the area to find you together…” She swallowed. “…As he did.”
Isolde shook her head, aghast.
Gilbert was involved in the plot. He was committing high treason. He would be ruined. They would lose everything.
Her emotions reeled through so many layers of heartbreak and disappointment. This might have been her one opportunity to escape from the challenge Brodie had issued. But she could not go to Lord Yves to report Brodie’s nefarious deeds. For her brother—and she—would also be implicated.
The back of her throat ached with the threat of tears. “This can’t be.”
Matilda approached Isolde and took her hand as she continued. “The land in your dowry once belonged to the Ross clan. They’ve been trying to reclaim it for decades. Lord Easton knew this and realized what an advantage they could be when he proposed the idea.”
Humiliation washed over Isolde. “Servants know far too much.” And it made Isolde suddenly feel like the greatest fool.
“’Tis why you sent me,” Matilda replied gently.
A hot tear trailed down Isolde’s cheek, and she nodded. Matilda was correct. It was why Isolde had sent her. Servants were silent observers to all that went on around them. It did not mean they never spoke of what had been witnessed. Especially when given proper motivation. Like a lovely lady’s maid who gave them her full attention.
Isolde nodded. “Please go on.” When Matilda did not immediately continue, Isolde glanced up at her maid. “There is more, is there not?”
Matilda pressed her lips together and nodded. “My lord knew you would decline any offer of marriage to Brodie, and intentionally put you in a position where you had no choice but to accept.”
“By tarnishing my honor.” An angry sob erupted from deep within Isolde. “My own brother betrayed me to get the support he needed to engage in treason. He sacrificed me intentionally for his own gain. Not just me, but my integrity.”
The news shattered her heart. She had known her brother did not hold much love for her. But what he’d done had been cruel. Beyond cruel. It had been wholly self-serving and hateful.
The worst part of all was that there was no solution now to avoid the challenge Brodie had laid at her feet. She would still need to fight Edmund the Braw. And she would certainly lose.
Cormac was no longer plagued by guilt regarding Isolde. Not since he made up his mind about his intentions.