Siege Of the Heart (18 page)

Perhaps most alarming was the friendship of sorts that had formed seemingly overnight between Alexandre and Captain Thomas. They chatted about the training of men, discussed military strategies and laughed over remembered conquests. The only positive aspect about the situation was they spent the majority of meals talking to one another, allowing Isabel a brief reprieve from the Norman’s attentions. Plenty of time for her to reflect on all the ways Alexandre had encroached upon her life.

Time to be angered by her inability to stop it.

The food made no impact on her as she mentally reviewed the day’s events to determine what still needed to be done for the feast in two day’s time. Isabel left the hall as soon as she could politely excuse herself from the evening meal. For once, Alexandre gave her little argument.

Her thoughts weighed heavily as she moved past the diners and into the hallway. Soon she would be able to relax in her quarters. Her steps quickened.

“Isabel, a moment.”

She froze as Kendrick’s words cut through the darkened hall. She clutched her chest and willed her heart to slow to a normal pace. “You startled me.”

He emerged from the shadows. “Forgive me.” He must have been waiting for her to appear. “I would speak with you.” His golden brows were drawn tight over his eyes.

“Certainly,” she said, doing her best to regain her composure.

They walked in silence and stepped out into the bailey together. The chilly dark stole her breath after the warmth of the hall. The strikes of the blacksmith’s hammer echoed around them. She hoped Kendrick would be quick, as she had no desire to linger out-of-doors.

Kendrick turned toward her. “I will be leaving Ashdown.”

Isabel’s breath left her in a rush. “What? But why?”

“I cannot stay here any longer.” He gestured toward the hall. “Not while they are here.”

“Have Alexandre and his men offended you in some way? Or is their Norman blood the problem?” She hoped such prejudice beneath him. After all, she was half-Norman herself.

He shook his head. “Nay, it is not what they have done, only what they stand for.” He looked up at the night sky and then back at her, anger and something else simmering in his otherwise mild brown eyes. “I wish they had never come. They will ruin our land and our customs.”

“Come now, I agree our guests have been bothersome, but they have not been aggressive, and they have respected our traditions. We should be thankful. Others have not been treated so fairly. My father—”

“Is not coming home,” he finished for her.

She blinked back her surprise. “What do you mean?”

“He should have returned home by now.”

She shook her head. “The weather could have worsened, or—”

“Do not lie to me, Isabel. How long have you known?”

She closed her eyes at his accusing tone. Her fingers ached, clenched at her sides.

“The tidings the messenger brought the other day.” Kendrick said. “Were they tidings your father was dead?”

She finally opened her eyes. “Yes. Julien sent word of my father’s death and his intentions to join Harold in fighting the Normans. That day the safety of our lands became my responsibility.”

“So you ordered the scouting party.”

“Yes, what little good that did.” Her thoughts flew to Edgar, who had fallen in the first skirmish with the Welsh.

“When will you tell the others?”

Isabel sighed, her breath visible on the cold air. “Soon. I will make the announcement at the feast. It will matter not what Alexandre does then. I will make my excuses to William, and he will marry me off to one of his men. I can only hope I will be able to help our people adjust to a new Norman lord.”

Kendrick gave her a tight nod. “And I will not stand by and watch you sacrifice yourself for such a life.”

“I have no choice—” The flash of pain in his eyes had her cursing to herself. She had been so preoccupied with Alexandre’s presence, she had unintentionally hurt Kendrick in the process. She held out her hands. “Kendrick, you must understand. I cherish your feelings for me, but I cannot return them. I cannot afford to be selfish. There is too much at stake.”

“I know. Which is why I must go.”

“Do not be foolish. My father’s name will not protect you if you leave. Our Norman visitors have been understanding so far, but you know others will only see you as a conquered Englishman.”

“It is better than staying here and watching you destroy yourself and your family’s legacy out of a misplaced sense of duty.”

The words were a slap to the face. “Kendrick...”

“My mind is firm. I will leave tonight.” He glanced over his shoulder to ensure they were still alone. The next thing she knew, he pulled her into a hug, his beard pressing against her cheek. “Make sure Captain Thomas understands why I had to go. Be safe.”

He released her and vanished into the stables. In moments, he reappeared, mounted. Isabel realized he had already prepared his things and had only come to tell her of his decision. She would not have been able to persuade him to stay. He gave her a short wave before he passed through the gates and into the night.

Isabel shivered, but she did nothing to warm herself as she watched him fade into the night. Gone, like so many others.

* * * *

Alex battled back his dislike of the young Kendrick as the man-at-arms directed his mount away from the Dumont castle. He would say good riddance, if not for the forlorn look on Isabel’s face as she stood there, huddled in her cloak. Lovelorn or merely surprised? His fists clenched. He would learn the truth of her regard, once and for all.

“You will grow ill if you stay out here much longer.” Alex came up behind her as the main gate swung shut.

Isabel gasped and whirled toward him. “Alexandre.”

He peered into her face. “Where do your thoughts go?”

She stared up at him, mouth agape. His gaze fell to her lips as he waited for her to answer. She bristled and crossed her arms. “I was only thinking on how much I enjoy my solitude.”

Alex frowned. Solitude? “Then what of your father’s soldiers? You did not seem to mind Kendrick’s company.” The young man had been much too familiar with her.

Isabel gritted her teeth. “So now I cannot speak with my men without your permission?”

“
Non
, that is not what I meant,” he said as gently as he could. “But I would know what he said to you. You are trembling.”

Isabel shook her head. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with. I am merely cold.”

Alex bit back his irritation and gestured to the gate. “I assume he is leaving. I saw your tender goodbyes. I do not understand why you think you should hide such things from me. I am here to help, as you well know.”

Isabel scoffed. “Help? Is that what you call it?” She groaned and raised a hand to her temples. “You are right. He could not stay here any longer.”

“And why is that?” He was pushing her, but he had to know.

She looked away. “It is personal.”

“I may not know your language, but I know Kendrick did not leave here with your blessing.”

 
“He did not,” she said with a soft sigh. “I cannot protect him past these walls.”

Alex followed her gaze to the gates before returning his attention to her. “He is man enough to protect himself,” he said dismissively.

She shook her head. “He does not understand the position I am in. I thought because he accepted me and my father, he understood the reasons I must tolerate your presence here, why I must acknowledge William as my king.”

“Then it is better he move on.”

“You do not understand.”

“I understand that he is in love with you,” Alex bit out, ignoring her surprised gasp. “I understand that he hates me and my men for being here in Ashdown, for being here in England. And he hates that he is helpless to stop it. Do you deny it, Isabel?”

He said her name with a hint of possessiveness. Her face reddened. He stood close to her, very close. He could touch her if he wanted, feel her warmth and softness once again. He had been true to his word and not made any more advances toward her, but denying his attraction to her was a sore trial. Especially when he was certain she felt it too. If Kendrick was the reason she kept refusing him…

Alex took another step toward her. “Did he swear to protect you? Did he ask you to run away with him?”

“It was not like that.”

Alex glared at her. “Tell me, do you return his feelings?” he said, his voice tight with frustration.

Her head snapped back toward him. “
Non.
He is dear to me like a brother, but nothing more.”
 

He straightened his hunched shoulders. Her swift denial, the confusion in her eyes, set his mind at ease. The boy had Isabel’s affection, nothing more. So why was she still so resistant to him?

Alex stared down at her, and her breath caught. He could affect her with just a look. Something primal stirred inside him. He would make her acknowledge the pull between them. “You are trying very hard, are you not? To ignore it?”

“What are you talking about?”
 

Her feigned ignorance did not fool him. “The way you look at me when you think I am not looking, the way you try to act as though I do not affect you, the way—”

Her cheeks darkened. “Enough! I told you never to speak to me of such things.”

“
Non
, my lady, you did not. You said not to touch you, and I am not touching you, yet.”

Though he was sorely tempted. He advanced upon her. A few scant inches separated them. He flexed his fingers, wanting nothing more but to crush her against him and silence her objections with more kisses. Isabel stepped back until she found herself against the outer wall of the hall. Still afraid. He did not want that.

He leaned in and gazed down at her. “Isabel,” he said softly, “I cannot pretend I feel nothing for you.”

He reached out a hand to touch her cheek, but dropped it to his side when she flinched.
 

She breathed deeply and drew herself up to full height, facing him head on. “I will not be drawn into another discussion about this, sir. There can be nothing between us, and I would suggest you accustom yourself to the idea.”

She slipped past him.

“Isabel…” he called after her.

She turned, her face cloaked in shadow. “You of all people should know what awaits me in London,” she said slowly, taking care with each word. “Do not make the situation any more difficult.”

He straightened as her meaning washed over him. She was not denying her attraction to him. She only refused to see where it led, when, as far as she knew, William would marry her off to another.
 

Admirable. And infuriating. The truth clamored to be told, but something held Alex back. Perhaps it was the dark look on her face, her forbidding tone. Or perhaps it was that selfish part of him that still wanted to see if he could win her for himself. No decrees, no mandates. Just a man and a woman, stripped of both duty and obligation.

He had to hope she would still be his as he watched her retreat inside the castle.

* * * *

Matilde worked the spinning wheel while Isabel bent over her embroidery, berating herself whenever she made a mistake. Sewing was not a favorite task of hers, but she did enjoy the peacefulness it brought her.

“So this is where you have been hiding,” Alexandre said as he entered the solar.

Startled, Isabel stabbed her forefinger with the needle. She cursed and sucked on the injured digit as she glared up at him.

He stepped past her and stood near Matilde. “One of the serving girls from the kitchen needs assistance with some household matter, Matilde. I told her I would let you know.”

“You are so kind for telling me, sir.” She smiled at him and bobbed a curtsy.

Before leaving the room, Matilde gave Isabel a significant look she ignored by busying herself with her needlepoint. She highly doubted Matilde was needed in the kitchen or that any of the servants would dare approach Alexandre for such a trifle. They were too well trained. Matilde was blind when it came to the Norman knight, as if the man—