“Not you!” Isabella’s father cried, suddenly raising a hand before Amaury. “No spawn of Montvieux will cross my threshold, not before the killer of my own son is named and brought to justice.”
“Do you accuse me, sir?” Amaury asked coldly. “We encountered your son fallen on the road just moments ago. He was already cold, and no more could be done to aid him.”
Isabella shivered at the bluntness of such detail.
The palfrey, meanwhile, walked slowly into the bailey, reins trailing. The white destrier followed the mare, the scent of blood making him step high and flare his nostrils.
When they both were clear of the gates, Isabella’s father flicked his hand and the portcullis was dropped into place so heavily that the ground shook.
Amaury’s destrier snorted, as if insulted, but Amaury remained impassive. He did not turn from the gates, but remained watching through the portcullis. In the bailey, two men lifted Denis from the saddle and carried his corpse to Isabella’s father, who fell on his knees and clasped his dead son to his chest. He wept like a child, shaking Denis as if he could bring him back to life by will, and Isabella had to avert her gaze from the sight.
Faydide gave a high cry of anguish, proof she would not be overlooked, and appeared to collapse. Mallory caught her, his expression stern as he surveyed the scene. He then glared at Isabella as if the situation was her fault.
“You must have killed him!” the distraught lord bellowed at Amaury. “You took my son in vengeance for my rightful possession of Montvieux, and I will not let the matter pass!”
“I did no such deed, sir.”
“You lie!”
“Never,” Amaury said with heat.
Isabella’s father staggered to his feet, pointing at Amaury. “It was you or those allied with you. No other could have desired the death of my son! You think you can simply take Marnis from me. You think you can destroy everything and everyone I love, just to see your own vengeance. You think that because you are young, your desire will conquer butyou are wrong.By God’s own will, I claimed Montvieux and I owe you naught in return.” His voicerose to a roar. “Get yourself from my gates, fiend, that I might mourn my son’s loss in peace!”
There was silence then in the bailey, a silence broken only by an old man’s sobs.
“My lady?” Amaury said, his tone moderate, and Isabella felt the weight of his gaze upon her.
“Spurn him, Isabella!” her father ordered. “Do what is right by your kin. There can be no alliance between our houses, not now, not ever. Do as I command or I will ensure you regret your defiance.”
Fear flicked in Isabella’s heart. She knew well enough that her father should not be denied. Did he know some detail she did not? Amaury could not have attacked Denis the night before or even this morning. He had been with her both times. His brothers insisted they had taken only the deer and the destrier the night before, but what about this morning? Where had Sebastian gone? Had he returned to Marnis, awaiting an opportunity to attack Denis for the sake of vengeance?
If Sebastian were responsible for Denis’ death, would Amaury condemn his brother for this act of vengeance? Isabella feared he would not.
Once again, she felt caught between the demands of two families long at odds. She did not believe she could unmake a marriage. She could not deny that she had sworn a vow to Amaury de Montvieux and she could not pretend that she had not lain with him. Her maidenhead was gone.
Nor could she insist that she had been forced to surrender to Amaury, or that he had been unchivalrous to her, for that was untrue.
Indeed, he had been a marvel.
She almost took a step toward Amaury before the realization struck her. Her father’s denial of her marriage meant he would not keep his offer of returning Montvieux to Amaury once histhree earlier conditions were met. Amaury had wed her solely to regain his legacy and there was no longer any chance of its recovery through her. Doubtless, he would cast her aside when she could bring him no advantage.
He would never abandon Montvieux.
Their match was doomed on every side, as doomed as the daisy coronet that had wilted overnight. Better to stay within these despised walls, both fed and safe, rather than abandoned alone to forage in the wild.
With that prospect before her, Isabella chose.
“My father declares our match to have never been made,” she informed Amaury, keeping her voice cool with an indifference she did not feel.
“And Edmund, of course, remembers only what he is told to remember,” Amaury said. This time, there was bitterness in his tone, and Isabella was surprised by it.
“Sir! I was loyal to your family for decades…”
“And now you may be loyal to Marnis. I wish you good fortune with that choice, Edmund.” Amaury’s gaze was unswerving and vividly blue when it locked upon her. Isabella felt she had failed a test. “In my experience, those whose loyalty shifts with the wind never find themselves secure.”
Isabella felt a hot flush rise over her flesh.
“Go!” Isabella’s father shouted at Amaury. “Leave my gates!”