The focus shifted to Isabella’s recent troubles and Isabella knew she had to be on her guard with Barbara especially. Lenore was a little less devious, but Barbara had a dark streak in her. She was pretty and red-haired, just like her younger sister, and she looked quite innocent and angelic.
But that was where people made a grave mistake with her.
Isabella, however, wasn’t so naïve.
She knew better.
“I suppose I was at the time,” she said, trying not to sound emotional. The truth was that she had been more embarrassed than anything. “But I realize now that Steffan is not a man I wish to be married to. He was not a good man, though it took me some time to realize that.”
Lenore had stopped fussing with the food and was looking at her sadly.
“But… but I heard he compromised you, Bella,” she said, distressed. “What a terrible man to do such a thing and then not marry you!”
Isabella frowned. “He did not compromise me,” she said flatly. “Some servants saw us kiss in the garden of Castle Questing and, suddenly, everyone has me with child and the fact that I must marry. But it is not true, I say. I have sworn this to my father and mother and brother. I am not certain Ronan believes me, though. Men always think the worst.”
Barbara stopped working, too. Both she and Lenore sat down near Isabella, enthralled with a shocking tale of a jilted bride.
“But your uncles and cousins and brother went after him,” Lenore said, excitement in her tone. “I heard rumor that they killed him!”
Isabella looked at her, careful in her reply. “They went to force him to either marry me or demand compensation,” she said evenly. “Ronan was there. He told me that Steffan put up a terrific fight rather than capitulate. When he tried to kill Alexander, Tor killed him. But he was only defending Alexander and had Steffan not fought them, it would not have been necessary.”
While Lenore looked scandalized at the tale, Barbara wasn’t so shocked. “You do not seem very upset about it,” she said. “Why are you not more upset?”
Isabella turned her attention to Barbara. The woman was watching her very closely. Even suspiciously. She shrugged.
“I was at first,” she said. “I was upset that he had fled on our wedding day, but I spent the day speaking to my grandmother and she helped me to see that Steffan was no great loss. In fact, now I am quite happy he fled. He would have made a terrible husband. While I am not happy for the man’s death, he should not have tried to kill Alexander. It is his own fault.”
Barbara was looking at her as if she expected something more – more emotion, more drama – but Isabella gave her nothing more. Lenore, however, sighed sadly.
“Were you not in love with him, Bella?” she asked.
Isabella thought on that. “I thought I was,” she said. “But when he ran away, I realized that he was not worthy of my love. He told me that he loved me and if that was true, he would have never left. I cannot waste any tears over a man so unworthy, Lenore. It was a harsh lesson to learn, I suppose, but I am better for it.”
She sounded firm, resolute. Lenore nodded as if in complete support while Barbara stood up to resume her tasks.
“You are so right,” she said. “He did not deserve you, Bella. You are being very brave about this.”
Isabella watched Lenore rise to resume her tasks, also. “There will be more suitors,” she said. “I will simply be smarter the next time.”
Barbara glanced at her. “Do you have any in mind?”
Isabella grinned. “I do not,” she said. “But the north is full of eligible men. And speaking of eligible men, we must find you two suitors as well. You do not want to stay at Blackpool for the rest of your life as Tor orders you around, do you?”
She said it lightly, but given what she knew about the pair, it was anything but a light subject. She watched Barbara’s face as the woman smiled thinly.
“It is a good life here,” she said. “I do not think I shall ever marry.”
“But why not? Don’t you want children and a home of your own?”
Barbara shook her head. “I am content,” she said simply. Then, she looked over at Lenore as the woman arranged the last of the bread that had been brought out. “Take care and put a cloth over that bread, Lenore. It will get cold before Tor eats it.”
She was making it clear that she had no desire to discuss marriage and Isabella let the subject drop. There wasn’t much more she could say on it, anyway, and she didn’t want to be pummeled with more questions about Steffan. She was more damaged about it than she let on, but she didn’t want Barbara and Lenore to know that.
She didn’t want The Vipers to know her weakness.
Just as Lenore was covering up the bread with a cloth, Ronan entered the hall. He had deposited his sister in the great hall before making a quick run to the stables to check on his horse, which had come up lame on the ride from Newcastle. But he was back now, making haste towards the crystal wine decanters. Like a good hunter, he had them in his sights.
Her brother was a wine connoisseur.
Barbara didn’t seem too thrilled that Ronan commandeered an entire decanter for himself, but she didn’t protest. She simply stood there and frowned at him as he drank it and smacked his lips. Perhaps she was thinking about berating him, but he was saved from a lashing when Tor and Blayth appeared.
Then, Barbara forgot all about Ronan and Lenore forgot all about the covered bread.
After that, no one else, and nothing else, in the hall existed to them but Tor.
“Welcome home, Tor,” Barbara said, indicating the fine wine on the tables. “Please sit. Surely you must rest and relax after your harrowing adventure. We heard all about it.”
Tor barely glanced at her, but that was usual. The women were fixtures in his home but that was all. He didn’t even really consider them family members. Simply Jane’s sisters, his obligations. Never let it be said that Tor de Wolfe hadn’t fulfilled his wife’s dying wish.
He sat at the table and Blayth with him.
“It was simply a task,” he said with disinterest. “What food do you have for us?”
Barbara was pouring the wine into fine pewter cups. “We butchered the old sow,” she said. “I have pork with beans cooking, boiled carrots, peas, stewed apples, and bread. I will have the servants bring it out.”
She waved at Lenore, who promptly called to the servants. Guests had arrived and the food was to be presented, so the sisters went into full chatelaine mode. As Blayth commented on the delicious wine, Barbara interrupted the conversation.
“We heard what happened to Steffan de Featherstone,” she said as if there were no one else in the room. “What you did was a brave and noble thing, Tor. We are very proud of you.”
Tor looked at her. “You will not speak of that here,” he said. “In fact, you will not speak of it at all. It is none of your affair, Barbara. Please keep silent on it.”
Barbara lowered her head, properly rebuked, but coming from Tor, it didn’t even sound like he was scolding her because he said it in such a way that it sounded more like a request. The man didn’t get worked up over anything, not even a statement that rudely interrupted his conversation with his uncle.
“Of course,” she said. “My apologies.”