wcEND.rtf (32 page)

Or if she ever would.

How could she live like that?

And yet, how could she accept Hunter could never be hers an
d
pretend she could survive without him? Isabel couldn't deny her feelings for Hunter, couldn't turn her back on him when he needed her. And damn it, if Hunter wanted her forgiveness, she would give it to him.

Give it to him even knowing it was Détra's forgiveness he sought, and not hers. That she could keep his hurt at bay only temporarily. That his pain and shock would be devastating when Détra returned and he learned he had lost the love he had found with her.

But even knowing all of that, she couldn't deny him her love. Isabel squeezed his hands, and instead of speaking, sought his mouth hungrily, desperately, trying to dispel the world surrounding them, to banish the ghosts haunting her, the myriad of problems they would still have to face.

But not now, not this very instant, not while Hunter held her in his arms and kissed her back with no less
desperation or passion. He drove her against the wall, rubbing his growing arousal against her. His hands caressed her breasts, pinching the nipples between his fingers. He lifted her legs and she wrapped them around his hips, her heart tightening in her chest.

Burrowing her hands underneath his sh
i
rt, Isabel trailed her fingernails up and down his back. She bit his chin, and licked the underside of his throat. Nibbled on his ear-lobes, then darted her tongue inside his ear.

Hunter shuddered and made a motion to move back to the cot.

"No, Hunter," she said
,
"
P
lease, right here, right now." She couldn't wait, wouldn't wait a moment longer to be one with him again.

Hunter fumbled with the ties of his pants, then poised at her entrance, he whispered against her mouth, "I love you," and thrust deep inside of her.

The world swirle
d
around Isabel and her thoughts scattered as he plunged deeper and faster. Her body became a mass of sensations and emotions too overwhelming to bear until, in an explosion of release, her c
ri
es joined his in the echoing walls of his private room.

Slowly Isabel floated back, but before reality intruded, she whispered against his ear, "I love you too, Hunter."

A thrill of joy skittered down Hunter's spine at
Détra
's longed-for words of love, the first time Détra professed her love for him made even sweeter coming in the wake of his confession of deceit to her.

Emotion clogged Hunter's throat. Naught he could say could surpass this magical moment and thus he tightened his hold of her in silent joy.

When he thought he had enough strength back, he withdrew from her and to his delight she moaned in disappointment. He carried her to the cot and brought her down with him. She lay on top of him, her head resting
on his chest and her beautiful curls in wild disarray over their bodies as their breathing attained a more tranquil rhythm.

The distant, cold woman he had wedded was a far cry from this passionate, vibrant, loving woman he held in his arms and in his heart. But even more unimaginable, she had surpassed his idealized dream of her. Hunter now realized that the love he held for Détra of his youth paled in comparison
to
the love he felt for her now.

It was almost as if she was three very distinct women. The one of his youth, the one he wedded, and the one he loved. He was fortunate enough to finally have found the true Détra.

Hunter's only regret was that she could not have the memories of her past. And yet, mayhap leaving her memories behind was what had allowed her to become the new Détra she was now.

Hunter shrugged aside his convenient reasoning. He could not be more pleased with her change or with the fact she had finally accepted the chalice was no longer available to her. He loved her too much to even consider risking her getting hold of the chalice that could transform his lady wife into her old self. He knew it was selfish of him, but he would do naught to jeopardize
Détra
's acceptance of him.

He sent a silent prayer of thanksgiving to Heaven that he had looked over his shoulders this morning when he was leaving the castle walls. Had he not done that, he would not have seen
Détra
dashing across the bailey to the garrison's quarters. He would not have followed her and confronted her. He would not have unburdened his conscience of the truth. And he would not have heard her declaration of love.

Oh, how glad he was that he did!

* * *

MAKING LOVE TO HUNTER HADN'T IN THE LEAST quenched her thirst for him. Isabel had a feeling she would never have enough of him. But now she wanted to be alone, wanted to think what she would do next. She told Hunter she didn't feel wel
l
and wanted to return to her room. Despite her protests he insisted on accompanying her back to the castle. As they crossed the bailey, her half lie gave rise to a fu
l
l truth when her insides began to churn with pain and her lower back to ache.

Isabel realized immediately what ailed her
.

Life wasn't miserable enough for her at this moment; she was also about to have her period, if she wasn't missing the telltale signs. She didn't even want to think what women used for sanitary pads in the medieval age, though she would soon
fi
nd out.

The great hall was filled with people eating. Isabel hadn't realized the morning had wilted away. She saw Maude and Godfrey seated together, and felt bad that Maude left her place at the table and rushed in her direction immediately upon sighting her.

Such devotion intrigued and bothered Isabel. A particularly bad cramp tore at her at that moment, and she grimaced, wondering whether Maude would have a potion for PMS along with a ready supply of sanitary napkins.

"My lady, are you unwell?" Maude asked.

"I think I might be in need of your assistance," Isabel answered, "but you must finish your meal first."

"I am finished, my lady."

Isabel wasn't sure of that but she did need Maude's help. She turned to Hunter. "I will be fine with Maude."

He reluctantly nodded. "I shall be here or outside training with the men if you need me."

"You are no longer going on your trip?" she asked.

"It is too late to join my men. Not that I regret having remained behind." He smiled wickedly and kissed her, then turned and strode to the lord's table, as Isabel had heard the long table on a platform in the great hall was called.

What had made him change his mind in the first place?
Isabel wondered as she followed his progress with her gaze. Had he seen her sneaking into the garrison's quarters? Isabel wanted to kick herself silly for being so careless, though she'd been sure he'd left already. Not that it would
'
ve mattered, anyway. The chalice wasn't in his private room, but at the bottom of a lake.

Isabel suppressed the despair threatening her again. She'd been single-minded about finding the chalice and reversing her wish, but now that it was lost to her, she wondered if the chalice might have held another answer to her problem. She didn't understand its powers, didn't know what it was capable of. She shook her head, dispersing the thought. No use in reaching for stars while she was securely chained to the earth.

She turned to Maude, who patiently waited for her, and together they took the stairs. As soon as they entered the bedroom, Maude asked, "What ails you, my lady?"

Not sure how modern words would translate, Isabel simply said, "It seems it is that time of the month for me." She almost rolled her eyes at her choice of words, feeling like an extinct dodo in some fantasyland.

"Are you in pain?"

Isabel nodded.

"I have a remedy for that."

It seemed Maude had a remedy for just about anything. Would that she had one to conjure up lost magic chalices.

"You are very efficient," Isabel said, watching Maude prepare her a potion. "I am very appreciative of your efforts."

Maude smiled and handed her a cup. "You taught me all I know about the healing herbs, my lady."

Isabel gulped down the contents of the cup without hesitation while Maude fussed inside the big leather trunk, then returned with several strips of cloth.

"I made some new ones for you," she said as she handed Isabel what looked suspiciously similar to modern sanitary pads. They were longer and wider at the ends, and of course, made of several layers of linen or some other soft fabric. Lacking the adhesive strips of their modern counterparts, the pads had strings attached to their four ends, which Isabel assumed would be for tying around the hips to keep the pad in place. It amused her that even after centuries would pass sanitary pads would not evolve much. At least not in principle.

"Mayhap soon you shall have no more need for these," Maude said.

For a moment Isabel didn't understand what Maude was trying to say, but when it became clear, she gasped. Isabel and Hunter had made love several times during the past days without using any birth control. Obviously pregnancy had not happened, considering her current need for the sanitary pads. But had it happened, how would
Détra
react to the news? She'd probably be furious.
Détra
wouldn't want to carry a child from a man she didn't love, a child conceived without her knowledge or participation, a child who would forever seal her fate with Hunter.

Isabel's heart ached with the longing for such a child, especially one with Hunter. The irony of it all! She, who'd tried everything to conceive and failed, must now find ways to prevent conception. She couldn't make such an important decision for another woman, and she couldn't bear losing a child again. To
l
ose Hunter would be hard enough.

Appalled, Isabel realized what she must do.

"Maybe I am not ready to be a mother just yet," Isabel
l
ied, knowing she couldn't be more ready.

Surely women in the Middle Ages practiced some kind of birth control. Apart from the unreliable coitus interruptus and the rhythm methods, which would need Hunter's agreement, what other contraceptive was available to the women of the Middle Ages?

Isabel eyed Maude cautiously. If there were some kind of herb or potion to prevent pregnancy her maid would know about it. But how would she approach Maude with such a sensitive subject?

"I would like to have my memo
ri
es back before having a child."

"What if your memories never return?" Maude asked.

"I have a feeling they will, eventually. As a matter of fact, Hunter has opened the door to my past by telling me of my earlier feelings for him," Isabel said.

"He did?" Maude seemed surprised.

"Yes, he even told me why he had lied. It seems I did not care much for him then."

"But you care for him now, do you not?"

"Yes, but let us not forget about Rupert. He could ruin everything between Hunter and me."

"My
l
ady, you are not considering telling Lord Hunter, are you?"

"No, I have no intention of telling him about Rupert. That would serve no purpose at this point, but all the same, I would rather not conceive a child until I am certain this situation will not come back to haunt me later."

Maude was silent.

Too silent!

"Can I have children?" Isabel asked abruptly. If Détra was as barren as she was the matter would be moot, and she wouldn't have to approach Maude with a request for birth control potions.

Maude shrugged her shoulders. "Only God is privy to that knowledge."

Why was Maude being so reticent? Was she hiding something too? God, could anyone in this place tell the truth? Immediately Isabel realized how hypocritical that thought was.

"I have been married before," Isabel said. "And yet, no children. Is this an act of God, or have I manipulated the situation a little?"

"My
l
ady," Maude tried to reason, "do you conceive a child now with your husband there shall be no haunting ghosts in your future."

Maude couldn't be more wrong. And because Maude wouldn't give her a straight answer, Isabel knew
Détra
had not left anything to chance.

"If I wished to wait a while to conceive," Isabel insisted. "How would I go about doing that?"