The Bride Thief. Susan Paul Spencer
in his arms—not with the value of a person, but only as a prize to be fought for—she was filled with pain. She knew what she must look like, naked beneath the covers, marked and reddened from Sir Justin’s kisses, with that deceitful stain on the bed. Mortified at what all who saw her would think, shamed by her foolishness, she wished she could crawl into a hole and hide. But there wasn’t a hole anywhere nearby, and so Isabelle took the only refuge she had at hand, closing her eyes and burying her face against her husband’s hard shoulder.
Justin’s arms tightened about her. “You’ve had your answer, my lord. Now go.”
“Think, Isabelle!” Sir Myles persisted desperately. “Only think. You’re no better with him than you were with me. Do you think he’ll make anything but a slave of you? Evelyn and I offer you the ties of blood, of family. And matters will change, I vow it! I’ll give you a house, and servants of your own. Senet will live with you, as it pleases you. I’ll hire tutors for the lad, and buy his knighthood when the time comes. Isabelle,” he pleaded. “Please come back with me!”
It was true, she thought, pressing a fist against her eyes to keep the tears from spilling out. She was only exchanging one master for another, going from one place of labor to another. But Sir Justin, at least, had shown her kindnesses that had not been necessary. He’d done everything he could not to distress her. And he had told Sir Myles that Senet would come to them at Talwar—if he had lied about other things, at least he’d not lied about that.
“I’ll not go back,” she managed, weeping. “I will go with Sir Justin.”
“Isabelle!”
“Nay!” Justin cut him off. “No more. You will not torment her further. Leave now. I do not merely ask it of you. Go.”
An angry silence filled the room.
“Very well,” Sir Myles said at last. “I will take my men and leave. But heed me, Sir Justin Baldwin. I’ll have Isabelle back. I swear it by all that is holy. And you’ll come to regret this night and your vile deeds. You will, sir. You will.”
When he had left, Justin sat on the bed, cradling a silent Isabelle in his arms.
“A dangerous man,” Father Hugo commented. “Beware him, Justin, and keep control of your temper. As God’s holy word tells us, ‘Be slow to wrath, for the wrath of man does not produce the righteousness of God.”’
“But it does get rid of Sir Myles,” Justin replied wearily.
“What do we do now?” Christian asked. “Would it not be wise to make for Siere?”
“Aye.” Justin turned his gaze upon Isabelle, who still had her eyes closed against his shoulder, although he knew she did not sleep. “Would that we could rest longer,” he murmured. “But we cannot.” To Christian he said, “We will clothe ourselves and make the horses ready, and then we will ride full haste for Siere, where I will have much to say to my brother the earl.”
Siere was, for Isabelle, a daunting place. Everything about it was grand, as well as on a grand scale. The castle was enormous, with so many stairs and hallways and chambers that Isabelle commonly got lost. The land surrounding the castle was vast, stretching so far that, even when Justin took her to the castle’s highest tower and pointed out the direction of the borders, she’d not been able to see the end of it. The town of Siere was really a bustling city and, from the personal wealth of the earl and his lady, Isabelle realized that local commerce must be quite healthy.
Isabelle knew the signs of prosperity when she saw them, just as she knew and understood bankers, moneylenders, traders and businessmen. It took a calm, sure hand to manipulate all of those involved to bring about a city’s financial success, and Isabelle was filled with admiration for the one who’d guided Siere along just such a path. Sir Hugh, the earl of Siere, had smiled at Isabelle’s shy compliments on the matter and revealed that it was his wife, Lady Rosaleen, who managed Siere and made every major decision. “I’m only here to make speeches,” he told her, “and to keep the children occupied when their mother wants some rest. Otherwise, I’m nothing more than the official bedfellow.” This he accompanied with a smile so meaningful that even the memory made Isabelle’s cheeks burn. Of course, it wasn’t all true. Lady Rosaleen might be the one who actually had the managing of Siere, and did it very capably, but it was Sir Hugh who ruled. He was an estimable lord, seeming to know everything without being told, heading off trouble before it occurred, always saying the right word at the right moment. Isabelle had only been at Siere for a week, but in that time she’d seen Sir Hugh deftly handle a number of his citizen’s complaints with the ease and wisdom of a Solomon, and she had yet to see one person leave the castle whose anger hadn’t been transposed into calm.
The earl had a gift for putting people at ease, which Isabelle had experienced firsthand when she arrived at Siere and Justin introduced her to Sir Hugh and his wife. Exhausted from the long ride, and weary from the rapid experiences of being kidnapped and married in only a matter of hours, Isabelle had only stared when the earl of Siere sauntered toward her with a welcoming smile on his lips. It had taken several long moments before she was able to mumble some kind of reply, and then, as he stood holding her cold fingers in his engulfing hand, he’d chuckled with warm amusement and said, to Justin, “I gather that you’ve not yet explained about Hugo and me being twins. The poor girl probably thinks that her wits have wandered away.” Which was exactly what Isabelle had thought, at least until Justin explained why it was that the priest who had married them and the earl of Siere looked to be the same man.
Sir Hugh had seemingly received the news of Justin’s bringing a different bride to Siere from the one that had been chosen for him with ease, giving no more evidence of surprise than the slight lifting of one eyebrow, and yet Isabelle was wary. He had been all that was kind this past week, but she had seen him contemplating her often, with a silent, seeking regard, and it was clear that very little escaped those piercing green eyes. A silent tension existed between himself and Justin, as well, and if the earl wondered why his brother and his brother’s new wife didn’t share a bedchamber, he never voiced the question aloud. At least, not in Isabelle’s hearing.
Lady Rosaleen, fortunately, was a much less bewildering presence. Beautiful, forthright and kind, she had immediately accepted Isabelle as her sister-by-marriage, and had done everything possible to make her comfortable.
“Don’t let Hugh rattle you, my dear,” she’d said when she took Isabelle to her chamber. “Baldwins tend to be rather intense, and my husband has the added difficulty of being a dreadful meddler. If there’s any trouble to be gotten into, Hugh will be the first to get into it. He’s not quite as serious-minded as Sir Alexander and Justin are, however, so perhaps that makes up for some of it. Not,” she’d added quickly, glancing at Isabelle with a smile, “that there’s anything wrong with being serious-minded. Justin is a marvelous man in every way, including his sober nature. But I don’t need to tell you that, do I, my dear? Do you love him very much?”
She did, and, sitting before her chamber fire, she’d admitted it, and everything else, to a sympathetic Lady Rosaleen.
“I don’t know how it came to be,” she said miserably, setting her weary head into her hands. “All the time he was courting Evelyn I loved him, and even now, when I know he only wed me to save his lands and to…to further his own gains, I love him. Evelyn spoke truly when she said that he would be horrified to know of my regard. I am a fool.”
“Oh, nay, never,” Lady Rosaleen assured her gently, setting a comforting hand on Isabelle’s shoulder. “You are weary and distressed, and upset at being taken forcibly from your home and married so shortly after, just as any woman should be, but you are not a fool. I cannot say why Justin has done what he has, but you may believe that he would not have taken you unless he held you in some regard. It may be, my dear, that he cares for you more than you think.”
But Isabelle found that hard