“I will go with you,” she said, looping her arm through Isalyn’s companionably. “I would like to hear more about London. Will you tell me?”
Isalyn nodded, feeling some comfort that Isabella was going with her. She was feeling uneasy with Tor’s two wards for reasons she couldn’t explain.
Perhaps it was only nerves.
The four women headed out of the hall, out into the bright day. Now that the fog had burned off, the view was limitless and Isalyn found herself looking at the inner bailey with interest. There was a massive, square keep nearly dead center in the middle of it and several large outbuildings.
“This is such a large place,” she said, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looked up at the keep. “I had no idea that it would be so big.”
Isabella looked to see what had her attention, squinting in the sunlight. “It is a very big keep, but each floor only has one large chamber,” she said. “That is why guests stay in the apartments.”
She was gesturing towards a two-story stone building built close to the wall. There were a few outbuildings near it, but Isalyn noticed that the apartment block butted up next to the kitchen yard.
“Do you come here often, my lady?” she asked Isabella.
Isabella shook her head. “Not too often,” she said. “My father divides his time between Castle Questing and Roxburgh Castle.”
“And you travel with him?”
“Sometimes,” Isabella said. “I like Roxburgh a great deal, but it is a dangerous place. The Scots are always trying to gain control of it, so my father prefers that I stay at Castle Questing with my mother.”
“And the Scots are not always trying to gain control of that one?”
Isabella grinned. “Not that one,” she said. “Castle Questing is impossible for them to get close to. It is the safest castle in the north, you know. It has never known a serious siege, mostly because the Scots would have to climb a mountain to get to it and, by that time, they would be too exhausted to fight.”
Isalyn’s eyes twinkled. “Given that I was born in Northumberland, one would think I would know a little something about these big border castles and military tactics, but alas, I know nothing.”
“Do not worry,” Isabella reassured her. “While you are here, I will teach you. The first rule is to never go outside of these walls without an escort. This far north, the Scots linger everywhere. They would be thrilled to pluck a ripe English lass and take her home.”
Isalyn remembered what Tor had said to her; do not leave Blackpool unescorted. Now she was coming to see what he meant. A lass like Isabella, who spent all of her time in the north, knew not to wander away alone. Isalyn had done it from Featherstone, but Featherstone wasn’t quite as far north as Blackpool was. Here, they were very close to the border.
Isalyn would have to remember not to wander alone and resist her natural instinct.
She didn’t want to be plucked like a ripe berry.
“You are kind to take the time to teach me,” she said. “You can teach me about the north and I can teach you about London.”
Isabella liked that idea a great deal. “An excellent suggestion,” she said. “Teach me everything so that when I visit London the next time, I will look as if I belong there.”
They grinned at each other, quickly becoming fast friends, when a shout came from behind. They paused, turning to see a big knight with black hair on the approach.
Isabella’s eyes widened.
“Who is that?” she asked.
Isalyn lifted her hand again to shield her eyes from the sunlight. It was a very bright day. “That is my father’s knight, Fraser,” she said. The same hand at her eyes waved at him. “Here, Fraser!”
Fraser was carrying a satchel with him. Clad in a mail coat, tunic, and with his elaborate broadsword affixed at his side, he was moving swiftly. When Isalyn saw that he was carrying her bag, she went to him to collect it.
“Thank you,” she said. “My father is still in the hall, but he will be staying in this building as well. Those two women ahead of us are the chatelaines. They can tell you which chamber is his.”
Fraser nodded, catching sight of the dark-haired lass a few feet behind Isalyn. When their eyes met, he nodded his head in her direction.
“My lady,” he greeted politely.
Isalyn made the introductions. “This is Lady Isabella de Wolfe,” she said. Then, she lowered her voice as she turned away from Isabella. “This is the woman who was betrothed to Steffan.”
Fraser’s dark eyebrows lifted. “It is?” he muttered. “God’s Bones… he ran out on that?”
There was something in his tone that made Isalyn take a second look at him. He was focused on Isabella as if he’d never seen a woman in his life and Isalyn fought off a smile, realizing there was some manner of instant attraction there. She’d never seen anything spontaneous from Fraser for as long as she had known the man, so this was an event.
She wouldn’t waste it.
“Come with us, Fraser,” she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him along. “Lady Isabella, you do not mind, do you? Fraser can see where my father is to sleep so that he can have his baggage brought there.”
Isabella was looking at Fraser much the same way he was looking at her. “I do not mind at all,” she said, her cheeks tinged pink. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord.”
Fraser dipped his head at her again. “For me, also,” he said. “Do you live here, my lady?”
Isabella, on the other side of Isalyn, shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “I was telling Lady Isalyn only a few minutes ago that I spend my time between Castle Questing and Roxburgh Castle. My father is Blayth de Wolfe, brother to the Earls of Warenton, Berwick, and Northumbria. He is the fourth son of William de Wolfe, the great Wolfe of the Border. Have you heard of him?”
Fraser nodded. “Everyone north of Leeds has heard of William de Wolfe,” he said. “Young lads are raised on tales of his valor. You are his granddaughter?”
Isabella nodded. “I am,” she said. “Did you ever met him?”
“Alas, no,” Fraser said. “I wish I had been given the opportunity. I am sorry to hear that he passed away only a few short years ago, but he has left a great legacy.”
Isabella was smiling at Fraser’s gracious compliment of her grandfather. He had a deep, silky voice, one that was quite pleasant to listen to, in her opinion.
“Thank you,” she said. “I quite agree with you.”
Fraser smiled at her, one that was bit more flirtatious and a little less polite, but there was nothing more to say at that point so he looked away, only to catch Isalyn grinning openly at him.
Realizing she was aware that he thought Isabella was quite pretty, his smile vanished unnaturally fast and he cleared his throat, looking on ahead to the apartment block. Anything but Isalyn’s smirking smile. As they arrived at the apartments, the two red-haired chatelaines were waiting at the door.
“This is my father’s knight, Sir Fraser le Kerque,” Isalyn said as they arrived at the entry. “He is to be shown where my father will sleep. Fraser, this is Lady Barbara and Lady Lenore, wards of Tor de Wolfe. They are his chatelaines.”