“I do not know that he did,” Isabella said.
“What if I could prove it? Would you believe me?”
She retreated a step. “If the evidence were credible.”
“Even against your own father?”
Isabella shook her head, and this time, she was the one who averted her gaze. “Aye, I should believe it,” she said quietly. “And perhaps more readily than any other, given all I know of his nature.” Before Amaury could ask, her gaze collided with his again, her manner intent, as if she sought to persuade him. “But you cannot ride there to make such an assertion without proof of any kind. Your beliefs will not suffice.”
Amaury felt his eyes narrow. “What do you know of the destruction of Montvieux?”
She took a breath. “That it happened, no more and no less. Those in command at Marnis do not confide in daughters. I would ask Denis, in your place.”
“And would he answer me?’
She lifted a brow. “I doubt as much. Perhaps Edmund might be more inclined to share.”
Amaury knew he looked skeptical at this. “I would not put much credit any claim made by Edmund. His convictions change with the wind, and his alliances.”
“I thought as much. I never liked him.” She spoke with vehemence and Amaury dared to be encouraged that they agreed in this matter, at least.
“Nor I.” He claimed her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, holding her gaze. “Then we must build our trust of each other upon our shared view of Edmund. It is precious little in terms of common ground, but it is a start.”
“You would lay a cornerstone upon our mutual dislike of your father’s minion?”
“I will begin where I must.”
Isabella, surprised, laughed, then put her hand over her mouth to hide her smile. Her eyes danced though in a most alluring way.
“Edmund told Roland that the seal and signet ring were gone when he found Father dead,” Amaury said, watching her expression become wary. “But if your father offered Montvieux to me, he must have both in his possession.”
“If he does, I have not seen them,” she said. “But then, I would not. Such items would be in my father’s treasury, if he holds them, and I am not permitted to gaze upon his riches.” A crease formed between her brows. “If they were lost, could they not be remade?”
“I do not think them lost,” Amaury said with resolve. “I do not think any man would suggest such a bargain as your father did, unless he held the offered reward in his hand. If they were lost and could be remade with the permission of the king, then I would have no need of his wager.”
Isabella nodded slowly, as if she considered some path.
“What are you thinking?”
Her smile was fleeting. “I dare not confess it to you, sir, for you might think me a rebellious daughter.” She pivoted then and walked toward the fire, leaving Amaury to wonder what she meant to do.
How could she not guess that he would welcome the prospect of her rebellion against her father, Gaultier de Marnis?
CHAPTER 8
Iwill avenge you.
It was not the most reassuring claim to have overheard from her new husband. Even though Amaury was a knight, returned from years of crusade in Outremer, Isabella did not like the implication that he would choose bloodshed over peace. His father had died, it was true, but that did not mean any person was guilty of causing that man’s demise. Old men died as God’s will.
How could Amaury be certain that his father had been poisoned?
He could only mean to blame her family for his father’s death. Without proof, though, he would be accused of slander and the king’s wrath might be invoked. That could not end well for the son of Montvieux.
What game did Amaury play?
And why?
The simple truth was that Isabella wanted to help him. She wanted to locate the seal and signet ring of Montvieux, to verify that her father had the ability to fulfill his wager. She wanted to be by Amaury’s side as he rebuilt his family holding in stone –and she wished to ensure that the resulting structure would notbe stolen from him by some sleight of hand. She knew her father to be capable of such treachery.