“If you will not take a husband, you must have an income,” the king said. “So I’m granting you the Hume property, as well.”
She blinked at him. “But the Hume lands belong to Bartholomew Graham now.”
“Graham was caught consorting with Scottish rebels,” the king said. “So the bishop confiscated the lands for the crown.”
She stared at him. Was it possible?
“I intended to give the property to your new husband as a wedding gift,” the king said, frowning.
Isobel felt dizzy. The Hume lands were hers, at long last. It was what she’d waited for all these years. Never again would she suffer the humiliation of being sold like cattle for land or political need. She could run her own household, dependent on no man.
Quite suddenly, she was struck by the loneliness of the life before her. The life she had prayed for since she was a girl of thirteen.
“Surely this is the best of news,” Geoffrey said as he led her out of the hall.
“Aye, the best,” she murmured.
She could not remember if she thanked the king. Or made the proper curtsy before leaving his presence.
“You look pale,” Robert said on her other side. “Are you unwell?”
She turned to look at him. “Do you think the twins would go to England with me?”
Robert made a face and shook his head. “ ’Tis best they stay here. Sooner or later, a relative is bound to turn up and claim them. Until then, I’ll look after them.”
She was unaware they had left the castle grounds until they stood before the door to FitzAlan’s house.
“I would like to be alone now,” she said.
“But the FitzAlans are waiting to hear your news,” Robert said.
“They have been so kind,” Geoffrey added, “surely you can visit with them for a little while?”
She nodded, knowing her brother was right.
“The family is expecting you,” the servant at the door told them. “They are in the solar.”
“Thank you,” Robert said. “We can find our own way.”
“The king has released me to escort you home to Northumberland,” Geoffrey said as they went up the stairs. “You will need to say your good-byes to the Fitz-Alans soon.”
Isobel felt the prick of tears at the back of her eyes. She’d become fond of the FitzAlans, especially Jamie.
“You’ve visitors!” Robert called out as they reached the top of the stairs. He stepped aside to let Isobel enter the solar first.
She stopped dead at the threshold. Leaning against the wall opposite, arms folded across his chest, was Stephen Carleton. Long and lean and perfect. When he turned and met her eyes, the breath went out of her.
The sad, sweet smile he gave her as he came to greet her made her insides go soft. When he touched his lips to the back of her hand, she had to close her eyes against the wave of emotion that washed through her.
“We must let Robert and Geoffrey come in,” he said in a soft voice.
She moved on stiff legs as he drew her away from the doorway. The warmth of his hand on her arm was so comforting, she longed to rest her head against his shoulder.
She stood mute as Robert and Geoffrey told the others of her good fortune. No one showed surprise at the news.
“So, you shall be a wealthy landowner in your own right,” Lord FitzAlan said with false heartiness. Despite his words of congratulation, the look he gave her was full of sympathy.
“You will return to England soon?” Lady Catherine’s voice, unlike her husband’s, was cold, and her eyes were angry.