The knight was very polite, however, and well spoken. He called forth servants to help with the animals and the wagon before moving to Fraser and introducing himself.
“I am Christian Hage,” he said. “Tor told me to expect guests from Featherstone, although I did not think it would be so soon. Welcome to Blackpool.”
Fraser dismounted his expensive warmblood. “I am Fraser le Kerque,” he said, turning to Gilbert as the man dismounted and came around his horse. “This is Gilbert de Featherstone, Lord de Featherstone.”
Christian dipped his head politely. “My lord,” he said. “Welcome to Blackpool. We are honored by your visit.”
Gilbert was dressed in his finest – fine silks, a heavy robe with a fur lining, and gilded chains around his neck and waist. A heavy silk purse hung from his belt. He was looking around Blackpool as if inspecting it, as impressed by the sight as his daughter was. Behind him, a soldier helped Isalyn from her palfrey and she came to stand silently next to Fraser. When he caught a glimpse of her from the corners of his eyes, he indicated her.
“This is Lord de Featherstone’s daughter, Lady Isalyn.”
Isalyn smiled politely for the handsome, young knight. “My lord.”
Christian bobbed his head in greeting. “My lady,” he said. “Tor has been told of your arrival. In fact, I…”
He was cut off when Gilbert and Isalyn caught sight of something behind him. He turned in time to see Tor as the man emerged from the keep, heading in their direction. But he evidently didn’t seem to think he was moving fast enough because he picked up the pace and jogged the rest of the way.
“My lord,” he said as he came near, addressing Gilbert. “I see that your daughter told you of my invitation to feast. How good of you to come.”
Gilbert greeted him pleasantly. “It was Fraser who told me, in fact,” he said. “I was told you wished for us to come visit very soon, so here we are. I hope it is not too soon.”
Tor shook his head, his gaze moving to Isalyn. “Nay,” he said, smiling at her. “The timing is perfect. You are welcome whenever you choose to visit. I do not have many visitors, in fact, so your company is a pleasure.”
Isalyn had to bite her lip to keep from smiling too broadly. He didn’t sound like a man who had entertained second thoughts about extending the invitation to visit.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said since he was looking at her. “We are honored to dine with such an esteemed ally.”
Tor hadn’t taken his eyes off of her. “I do hope you’ll stay long enough to enjoy other diversions and not simply my food,” he said. “I have some very fine horses and a falconry. My birds are some of the best in the north. Only my Uncle Blayth has birds as fine as mine; well, almost as fine as mine. Truthfully, mine are much better. In fact, my Uncle Blayth is also here at Blackpool with his daughter and son.”
“Ah,” Gilbert said, retaking the conversation from his daughter. “Another de Wolfe. I look forward to meeting him.”
Tor looked at the man, his smile fading. “It is his daughter who was betrothed to Steffan,” he said. “I have not yet told them of your arrival, but I thought you should be aware of who he is.”
Gilbert lost some of his pleasant expression. “I see,” he said. “Then mayhap this is not an opportune time. We can return home and come another day.”
Tor shook his head, reaching out to boldly take Isalyn’s hand and tuck it into the crook of his elbow. “Not at all,” he said. “Come into the hall with me. I am looking forward to coming to know a new ally under more pleasant circumstances than the one we experienced two days ago. And let my uncle come to know the father of the knight who deserted his daughter. You want him to think favorably of your family, do you not? Then show him you are an honorable man. Please stay.”
Gilbert had little choice because Tor was leading Isalyn away, but Fraser remained behind because of the extreme value of the contents of the wagon as he and Christian began to work on the logistics of where those treasures would reside when removed from the wagon.
With Fraser off with Christian and Gilbert trailing behind, Tor took a moment to study Isalyn. To say her appearance had been a surprise was an understatement. Tor had told her to visit soon, but he hadn’t expected her to come the very next day. Even so, he was happier to see her than he realized he would be. She sparked something within him, something he thought was long gone. A fire that had once burned in his heart, something passionate and deep and longing for a woman’s touch.
Something he thought had died with Jane.
But it hadn’t died. It was only waiting to be reborn. Isalyn was clad in a dark green damask gown with long strands of pearls around her neck and a cap made from tiny pearls and gold thread upon her head. Her hair was long, down her back to her buttocks, and she had tiny braids woven into it, catching the sunlight with the golden threads woven into them. It brought him pleasure simply to look at her.
He was becoming smitten even if he didn’t have the courage to admit it.
Yet.
“I told you to come soon,” he said after a moment. “You took me at my word, I see.”
Isalyn looked up at him, her dark blue eyes glittering like sapphires. “It was my father’s decision,” she said. “He was the one who wanted to come today.”
“And you are opposed to this?”
She smiled, looking away modestly. “Nay,” she said. “I agreed with him.”
Tor could see the faint mottle of a blush in her cheeks and he was enchanted. “Good,” he said. “You have just made my day a little brighter.”
She looked at him again. “Have I?”
“My hall has never been graced with a more beautiful woman.”
She blinked, surprised. “That is a kind thing to say.
“It is the truth.”
He smiled at her, a warm glimmer in his eyes, as they reached the entry to the hall. Since their arrival had only been announced within the hour, servants were scrambling to light the hearth and bring food and drink to the table. Lenore was there, but not Barbara, as Tor took Isalyn and her father to the dais, making sure they had the most comfortable chairs.
“Please, sit,” he told them. “You must have left Featherstone early. Surely you did not have the opportunity to break your fast yet.”
Isalyn shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “We left before dawn.”
Tor emitted a piercing whistle between his teeth and Lenore, at the end of the dais, came running.
“Aye, Tor?”
The warmth in Tor’s eyes faded as he looked at the woman, but he was polite when he introduced her.
“This is Lenore,” he said to Isalyn and Gilbert. “She is a de Wolfe ward. If you need anything, she will be honored to be of service. Lenore, this is Lord de Featherstone and his daughter, Lady Isalyn. Make sure they have chambers prepared immediately in the apartments. They will want to rest after their morning’s journey.”
Isalyn nodded politely at the flame-haired young woman. But the moment their eyes met, she sensed something more than curiosity.
She sensed scrutiny.
But Lenore lowered her gaze before Isalyn could figure out what, exactly, the woman was thinking. She dipped her head in greeting, as it was the polite and expected thing to do.