Turning to leave, he spotted Isabel asleep under the tree. Although he and his men were used to sleeping on the ground, he was surprised that Lady Isabel would find it comfortable. But then, the woman had been surprising him ever since he’d met her.
Rather than wake Isabel, he sat beside her and stared ahead at the mirror-like surface of the water. The still pond had a calming effect, and his shoulders began to relax, releasing the tension that had built during his talk with Lord Theodoric.
Their interview had gone more smoothly than he had expected. Although a little taken aback at the suddenness of the proposal, Isabel’s father seemed pleased to discover his daughter had a suitor, and he offered a generous dowry. Chetwynd was able to accept the amount by telling himself he would turn it over to Justin as soon as they reached Aachen.
Isabel’s father had jumped to the conclusion that Chetwynd and Justin had discussed the possibility of such a match, and Chetwynd did not contradict him. Although Justin had talked of wanting Isabel near him, he was likely to be extremely displeased with the marriage. Chetwynd didn’t have his friend’s skill in dealing with people, but he told himself he had done the best he could, trying to ignore his own selfish reasons for the match.
His initial guilt at deceiving Isabel’s father disappeared when Lord Theodoric began praising him for his willingness to wed Lady Isabel. Chetwynd wasn’t sure whether Lord Theodoric believed Isabel’s reputation had been compromised because of the number of suitors she had discouraged, or whether he had some idea of her involvement with a local lover. Whichever the case, Chetwynd thought Theodoric displayed a definite lack of loyalty to his daughter.
After meeting Lady Winifred and Lord Theodoric, Chetwynd could understand Isabel’s desire to leave Narbonne. He turned to where she was still sleeping. She lay on her side with one arm tucked under her head, appearing both innocent and sensual. Chetwynd grinned, imagining her as a mythical water nymph that had floated ashore and was resting after a long swim.
Isabel’s bare feet poked out from the hem of her gown, and he saw they were a good size. As were her hips, he noticed as his eyes traveled up her body. Her long tresses spread out on the ground around her, and there were leaves and twigs caught in her dark curls. Although his fingers itched to untangle a few, he didn’t wish to wake her. Instead he slowly lay down facing her, making sure there was a good distance between them. He became aware of her breasts rising and falling with her breathing.
As he admired her natural beauty, he wondered if there was a chance this match could work as they had planned. It was clear there would be temptations, and he knew he would have to be careful. His plans, as well as her own, depended upon them remaining free of emotional entanglements, and his history in such matters was not promising.
WHEN ISABEL OPENED HER EYES SLIGHTLY, SQUINTING AT the light, she saw her future husband stretched out beside her. At first she thought he was asleep, but she quickly realized his eyes were focused on her breasts. Heat filled her body as she wondered what to do.
Suspecting that Lord Chetwynd would not want her to catch him staring at her breasts, Isabel closed her eyes and moved a little, as though she were just waking up. Even with her eyes closed, she could tell Chetwynd was quick to sit up. The light changed, and she was in his shadow. When she opened her eyes again, he was staring ahead at the water.
Isabel struggled to sit up. Feeling stiff from lying on the ground, she stretched her limbs to ease them. As casually as she could manage, she acknowledged Chetwynd’s presence. “Have you been here long, my lord?”
“No. I just arrived,” he said. “You must have been very tired to sleep on the hard ground. Perhaps you did not sleep well last night?”
Isabel laughed softly at his suggestion and was rewarded when a slight smile appeared on Chetwynd’s usually solemn face. It was pleasant to experience a simple exchange of understanding without the need for words.
“Did all go well in your meeting with my father?”
“Yes. Lord Theodoric thought the match must have been arranged, or at least suggested, by Justin. You should know I let him believe his assumption was true. It was easier than thinking up another reason for the sudden decision. He wants to talk to you, but he seemed well satisfied with the match.”
“Yes, I can imagine he would be.”
Her terse reply indicated that she knew her father’s feelings on the matter. Chetwynd couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to her previous suitors, especially as her many charms were obvious.
“Why is it you never married, Lady Isabel?” he asked. “From what I understand, you had opportunities.”
It was because none of her suitors had lived up to her memories of her champion. Her childish fantasies about being rescued were embarrassing, and she had no intention of telling him about them.
Remembering his reply when she inquired about his attachment, Isabel answered stiffly, “I don’t think that’s any of your concern.”
Recognizing his own words, Chetwynd accepted her abrupt reply. He thought of his earlier speculation that Lady Isabel had been awaiting a lover at the pond when he happened upon her. The memory dislodged the companionable feeling that had been developing between them.
“Are you sure there is not a reason why you would wish to remain in Narbonne?” he asked coldly while staring at
