That only made Tor grin.
A pleasant trip into town that morning turned into a long and expensive day, and Tor couldn’t have been happier about it, for one very good reason –
I choose thee.
He had chosen her, indeed.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Her father wanted to leave today.
That was the entire reason that Isabella was not allowed to go into Carlisle with Tor and Isalyn. Blayth wanted to return home today, or at least start home, and he didn’t want to have to wait for Isabella to return from Carlisle.
It was a two-day ride back to Roxburgh Castle and at least another day to Castle Questing, so Blayth wanted to get started. His business here was finished, but he was thrilled at his nephew’s betrothal and had spent most of the night sitting up with Tor, celebrating the event and trying to keep the man from reflecting too much on Jane.
Isabella had gone to bed long before her father and Ronan had. Ronan had told Isabella this morning that Tor had become drunk enough to the point where he was starting to lament Jane’s passing again, nearly seventeen years after the woman had died.
Although he had not expressed his lament to Gilbert, he had expressed it to Blayth and Ronan. It wasn’t that the man had any regrets, nor was he sorry that he was moving on with his life, but it was more a gentle reflection on what could have been. Since Tor’s father wasn’t there to help his son, Blayth was more than happy to fill that role with his gentle, firm guidance.
This morning, her father and brother were still in bed even as Tor and the rest of the party rode out for Carlisle. Isabella was awake because she had slept all night long, but given that she had seen Barbara and Lenore moving about freely last night, she was not particularly eager to leave her chamber.
She had stayed to her room.
Tor had assured her that Barbara and Lenore were on their best behavior and that they would be of no threat to her, but Isabella was sorry to say that she did not believe him. She had known the pair for far too long and knew what they were capable of, and she knew that they would not forgive her for bearing witness against them. Therefore, she thought it wise to stay out of their way until she left Blackpool.
But that meant a very lonely morning. Fraser had gone into Carlisle with Tor and Isalyn but, in his case, it was because he was Gilbert’s knight and he was paid to protect his lord and to go wherever Gilbert did. Isabella understood that, but she wished she had been able to go along simply to be near him.
She was becoming quite enamored with the man.
Fraser was kind and intelligent and wildly handsome, and she had spent a good deal of the feast the previous night speaking to him. He was very proper with her, which was quite a change from her last suitor, who went out of his way to steal kisses or pat her on the bottom. Steffan’s behavior had been quite scandalous and she was certain her father did not know the extent of it, but that was for the best. Steffan’s actions were hollow and she realized that now. At the time, however, she had felt flattered by his interest.
But Fraser was showing her how an honorable knight really behaved.
He didn’t try to steal kisses and he did not try to get her alone. Everything he did was in full view of her father who, somewhere during feast, began to realize that Fraser and Isabella were engaged in a rather long and somewhat flirtatious conversation. At least, Isabella was flirting.
Fraser was simply smiling.
Isabella had a feeling she was going to have to do some explaining to her father once he awoke, but his chamber was next to hers and she could still hear his heavy snoring. Her father was usually a night owl, even at home, so it wasn’t unusual for him to be up all night and then sleep until midday.
Ronan was still in his chamber as well, but she could hear nothing coming from his room. Ronan was like their father and had been known to sleep quite a long time if given the opportunity. Isabella could remember the times when her mother would take a bowl of water and throw it on him simply to wake him up. It was something of a running joke with the family, how much Ronan liked his sleep. The older knights were convinced that would end on his first battle march.
There was no sleeping on the battle march.
Therefore, Isabella had no one to talk to and no one to entertain her as she waited for her father and brother to rise. The windows of her chamber faced the inner wall and part of the yew tree, so she didn’t even have a good view. By late morning, she was becoming quite restless, restless enough to dare to leave her chamber just so she could walk around and stretch her legs. She had to do something to stave off the bone-numbing boredom. She figured if she saw Barbara and Lenore, she could simply walk the other way.
Quickly.
Boredom was forcing her to take the risk.
Slipping from the chamber, she made her way outside into the cloudy morning. It had rained the night before so the ground was muddy in parts, but she avoided the puddles as she made her way to the great hall. She had a servant bring her some food early that morning, but she was hungry now and she wanted to see if there was food available in the hall.
There was a fairly good chance that she would see Barbara and Lenore there but, somehow, she just wasn’t worried about it any longer. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she wasn’t going to let those two women make her a prisoner in her cousin’s home.
As she walked, she looked around the bailey and could see Christian over by the inner gatehouse. He hadn’t gone to Carlisle that morning, but had remained behind in command. He waved to her and she waved back. She was starting to feel better, more confident and happy. She was about to step into the hall when she heard a voice from behind.
“Good morn to you, Isabella.”
Unfortunately, she knew the voice. Startled, she turned to see Barbara standing behind her. What upset her the most was that she never saw or heard the woman coming and, suddenly, she was there.
Isabella’s happy mood plummeted.
“Good morn,” she said shortly. “I was told you were tending a sick man.”
“I am,” Barbara said steadily, but her dark eyes were glittering. “He will recover.”
“That is good,” Isabella said. “I… I was just going to get something to eat. Please excuse me.”
She turned around to leave but a word from Barbara stopped her.
“Wait,” she said. “Please. I wanted to speak with you.”
Isabella stiffened. “Barbara, there is nothing we have to say to one another,” she said. “I do not need to hear anything you wish to say to me.”
She tried to turn away again but Barbara followed her. “Isabella, we have known each other a very long time,” she said. “I thought we were friends. I do not know what Lenore and I ever did that should make you hate us so.”
Isabella was becoming impatient. “I do not hate you, but you know that everything I said was true,” she said. “You did put the oil on the floor of Heather d’Umfraville’s chamber and you did push Violet le Marr down the stairs. Now that I think on it, there was that lass from Helmsley Castle who awoke one morning with her hair tangled up in the bedframe. Half of her hair had to be cut off and, somehow, I do not think that was an accident because I know you and Lenore were around her that night. You tried to befriend her.”
Barbara sighed faintly, averting her gaze when she realized that Isabella had known far more than she had let on. There was no use in denying it.