put me down at once. I am quite recovered!”
He grunted as she dug her elbow into his stomach. “Save your strength, you foolish wench. I am a brute for keeping you here for so long.”
He entered her solar and headed toward the adjoining bedroom.
“You are a brute! I command you to put me down!”
He grunted again as her fist connected with his breastbone. “You, my lady, can only make requests, not commands.” He growled the words into her ear. “And even then I do not have to heed them.”
He dropped her onto her bed, and she let out an involuntary squeal. He grinned down at her. For the second time that day, Isabel found herself lamenting the fact he had taken away her weapons. “I will have some food sent up so you can regain your strength.”
“That is unnecessary. I will—”
“Non. Rest is what you need. Do not make me post a guard at your door.”
Isabel glared at him for what seemed to be an eternity, with the knight’s sturdy frame towering over her. She felt weak and shaky inside like a newborn lamb, but it had nothing to do with fainting.
Alexandre’s lips curled into a smile. “Tomorrow, then.”
5
“So this is where you have been hiding.” Isabel found her father’s advisor staring out over the castle walls, a remoteness to his weary features.
Captain Thomas turned and smiled, and she impulsively threw her good arm around him. After a moment, he gently pushed her away. He studied her face and shook his head, clucking in disapproval. “It was a foolish thing to do, my lady, especially considering the messenger’s tidings.”
The messenger… She flushed under Captain Thomas’s gaze and stood by the wall. The newly risen sun glinted off the rolling countryside still blanketed in snow. She tried to concentrate on the scenery, but her thoughts would not heed her. Captain Thomas would not be put off any longer. They would have the conversation she had avoided by running away like a child, with more disastrous results than she thought possible.
“Your father bade me to stay in Ashdown to protect you, and by joining the scouting party against my wishes, you have undone that,” he said in a sharp voice. “Your brother is as good as dead if he is not already. And you already know your father’s fate.”
She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “To think he was brought down by a fever…” Julien’s message told her their father had been injured at Stamford Bridge and died of a fever two days outside of London during the army’s march south to the coast, where William’s forces waited. He had been so full of life when he left—he had patted her cheek and told her not to worry before he and his soldiers surged through the gates. “He deserved better. Now, I only wish Julien had decided to come home instead of going on to fight the Normans at Hastings.”
Captain Thomas closed his eyes for a moment. “You mustn’t let it trouble you. Your brother made his choice a long time ago.”
Isabel grimaced. “I know.” Julien had fully embraced his English ancestry. He spent much of his life at court, befriending many of the English thanes and housecarls. Julien had done everything he could to diminish his Norman background in the eyes of his fellow Englishmen to be accepted. Facing the Normans would be the ultimate test.
She shook her head. “Even if he lived, even if he could be pardoned, Julien would rather die than admit to his Norman blood.”
“The same that runs through you,” Captain Thomas said. “You will have to think of your future.”
“I know.”
“You should not have left the safety of the castle.”
She shivered, but it was not because of the biting winter wind scouring the upper walls. “I needed to feel useful.”
“Begging your pardon, my lady, that is no excuse. You should have known better.” Seeing her frown, he added more kindly, “I taught you better, child. But none of that matters now. Whether you had joined the scouting party or not, Alexandre would still be here.”
Her nails dug into her palms. “I know.”
“You will have to go with him.”
“I am needed here.”
“That matters not. William has summoned you.”
Isabel crossed her arms but stayed silent.
Captain Thomas sighed. “I will bid the sentries to watch for any suspicious activities. There have been no new sightings of the Welsh on our lands. That does not mean it will remain that way. No doubt they saw an opportunity to strike, with the Normans commanding everyone’s attention.”
“What else have I missed?”
“The son of Wilfred the candle maker has taken ill.”
Isabel nodded. “I will visit them today.” She looked up at Captain Thomas. “In the meantime, William’s men, this Alexandre… He must not know about my father.”
“I have not said anything to the Normans, nor will I until you grant me permission. But Isabel, you are a woman alone in this world. Any other girl would flock to this William the Bastard and throw themselves at his mercy.”
“I am not any other girl.”
“My lady, he could secure your future.”
“By selling me off like chattel? I am Lord Bernard Dumont’s daughter, and I have my rights.”
“I am not denying your heritage, my dear, but your father’s name will not protect you forever. You will have to face William soon enough.”
“Nay, you are right about that. But until I get rid of these Normans, my father’s death must remain a secret.”
“What of your people? They have a right to the truth as well.”
She breathed deep, her shoulder throbbing at the movement. “The loss of both their lord and their king would be too much right now. And I will not leave until I am certain the Welsh are no longer a threat.”
Captain Thomas did not reply, but his disapproval tinged the air around them.
“What do you make of Alexandre?” Isabel asked to break the silence.
For a moment, she thought he would not answer. “From what I can tell, he is a natural leader and is well-favored by William. His men will do anything he bids them.”
“That may be true, but the man I met last night was an arrogant, churlish—”
“You are being unfair, my dear.” Isabel snapped her head up. “Yes, you are,” Captain Thomas said as he stared back at her.
“No, I am not. He treated me like a child.” Even now, the overconfident curl of Alexandre’s mouth and the corresponding twinkle in his eyes
