Her. She had been taught her entire life that she had no merit at all.
She was many things, but not witless.
Amaury was watching her closely, fairly bending his will upon her, but Isabella shook her head and averted her gaze.
“I fear our match is doomed,” she said with quiet surety. “I fear that there can be no accord between our families, not so long as either of us have kin.”
“And I believe otherwise.”
His conviction irked her into speaking her mind. “Do you? Why? All began well, then your brothers arrived. Your loyalties are with them, just as mine must be with Marnis. It will happen again and again.”
Amaury looked so startled that her resolve melted a little. “It need not do so.”
“I fear it will. What if I bear a daughter instead of a son? What if I bear no children at all?” Isabella knew she revealed too many of her doubts, but she could not help herself.
Amaury studied her for a long moment, then set her in the saddle and graciously handed her the reins. “I will win your agreement, Isabella. I will persuade you to believe.” He spoke with thrilling resolve then turned away from her, moving with purpose toward his own steed.
Isabella shook her head, then gathered the reins, shivering at the prospect of returning to Marnis, even for a short interval.
“You are cold, my lady,” Amaury said.
It was startling that he was so perceptive, and so fixed upon her. “It is of no import.” She shrugged, expecting naught, but Amaury lifted his own cloak from his belongings.
In daylight, she saw that it was a full wool cloak of deepest blue, trimmed with silver fur, like that from a wolf. He returned to her and cast it over her shoulders, smiling that his first two attempts fell short, given the height of her in the saddle. His companions teased him when the cloak tumbled back into his arms and Amaury grinned, then was successful on the third attempt. Isabella realized she had never seen a knight laugh at himself and she marvelled again at this man.
The garment was heavy and as before, she could smell his skin snared within it. She found herself taking a deep breath. It was too easy to recall the satisfaction of sleeping in his bed and once again, Isabella felt her color rise that she had been so wanton.
Amaury watched her, his eyes glowing, and she could have sworn their thoughts were as one.
“I thank you for your courtesy, my lord.”
“And to who else should I show courtesy but my lady wife?” he asked with a surprising measure of annoyance. He clearly did not anticipate a reply. He swung into his own saddle and gestured to the boys, his mood one of resolve and optimism both. The company moved as one, taking to the road as quickly and silently as the wind.
Their company was small, comprising Amaury and herself, his companion knight Thierry, and three squires: Philip and Fraser, and Thierry’s lanky boy, Baird. Roland, Luc and Amaury’s third squire, Guillaume, remained at Montvieux, along with the rest of Roland’s ragged company.
Amaury clicked his tongue, accustomed to being in command, his focus on the task at hand. The reins of Denis’ horse were firmly in his grip. All of his steeds quickened their pace as one, clearly attuned to his leadership. Even her own mare matched their speed without encouragement.
In moments, they crossed the bridge where their fathers should have met to parlay, the horses’ hooves clattering on the stone. The river was low, as was oft the case at midsummer, but still it sparkled in the sunlight. Isabella was keenly aware that they had left Montvieux and now rode in Marnis.
Again, she felt the urge to shiver. She could see the shadow of forest ahead that closed over the road. She thought it a desolate section of the road, for the darkness was complete even at midday and the air uncommonly cool. It seemed to Isabella that menace could be felt in the very air on that stretch of road and she always wished to avoid it, if possible.
Denis liked to tease her when she asked if they might take another route home.
“What is amiss?” Amaury asked, urging his destrier to canter beside Caprice.
Again, he watched her closely and she was surprised that he was attentive.
But he had invited her to confide in him. In this moment, she would.
“There,” she said, pointing to the forest that shadowed the road ahead. “It is there, where the road passes into the darkness of the forest, that the brigands have been inclined to attack. It always concerns me to pass this way, though from Montvieux, there is no other route.”
“And yet my brothers and their followers are otherwise occupied on this day. Surely you may be assured of our safety?”
“It is possible that there is more than one company of brigands.” She hoped there were, given the savagery of some of the attacks. If Amaury’s brothers were responsible for all of them, she might never sleep at Montvieux.
She felt Amaury’s gaze land upon her but did not look his way. “Tell me,” he invited once again.
“Not all of the attacks were simple thefts. There were injuries.” She shuddered, knowing his gaze was fixed upon her.