Chetwynd noticed that Isabel seemed reluctant to leave her friend, and he wondered if she would be a good traveler. He hoped giving her information would ease her mind. “We’ll stop at other monasteries and manors along the way. Hopefully, we won’t have to camp under the stars too often.”
“Camping out will be an adventure,” she replied, hoping to assure him that she would not be a problem.
Lord Chetwynd’s eyebrows rose as though he doubted she would find it pleasant; then he left her side to ride at the head of the caravan. He quickly moved out of sight, but Jerome, his cheerful squire, stayed in view and flashed Isabel a smile from time to time. She suspected he had been instructed to keep an eye on her. When she finally smiled back at him, he became bolder and moved to ride beside her as Chetwynd had done earlier.
“You sit a horse well, my lady,” he said, speaking with a boldness that was surely not appropriate for a squire.
Eager to fit into the group, Isabel couldn’t help but feel pleased at his praise. “Thank you. Your name is Jerome, is it not?”
The young squire eyes widened at her words. “Yes, my lady. How would you know that?”
“Lord Chetwynd told me your name at supper the first night you were at Narbonne.”
“There’s none the equal of Lord Chetwynd. I’m fortunate to serve him. He uses my given name.”
Isabel wasn’t sure how other squires were addressed, but Jerome clearly felt honored by Lord Chetwynd’s favor.
They hadn’t traveled far before Isabel was beyond familiar territory. The caravan moved quickly, and she didn’t have much time to enjoy the scenery. Although she was a skilled rider, she was not used to spending long hours in the saddle.
As Isabel began to feel the effects of bouncing about on her horse, she worried about Marianna. She glanced back to see how her maid was managing, and saw that she was conversing merrily with the other serving women. Marianna had clearly made friends quickly, and Isabel was envious. Her position as Lord Chetwynd’s wife placed her above the rest, and she knew it would take her longer to be accepted. They had no way of knowing that her best friend and companion for the past ten years had been the wife of a tenant farmer.
But Isabel did not ride alone. Jerome continued to stay close and acted as a self-appointed guide. The lad chattered away about the sights they would see on the journey and the abbey where they would spend the night. Isabel had become accustomed to his constant prattle, and she suddenly realized it had stopped abruptly. Chetwynd’s second-in-command, an older soldier she had been introduced to earlier, was approaching them.
Ingram’s face was deeply wrinkled, and he scowled at Jerome. The young lad was quick to take his leave, riding ahead to join his master.
“I hope Jerome hasn’t been a bother, Lady Isabel.”
“Not at all. He’s a good companion.”
“Lord Chetwynd wishes to know if you need a rest.” Ingram spoke in a manner that suggested he didn’t like the idea of a delay.
“Tell Lord Chetwynd I’m fine. There is no need to rest on my account.”
Isabel was eager to prove she would not be a burden. The last thing she wanted to do was slow the progress when she knew everyone was eager to reach home.
Her words had the desired effect, as Ingram’s face relaxed. “It’s not much further to the monastery, my lady.” A kindly smile deepened the lines around his eyes as he added, “You will find traveling easier as the week progresses.”
Isabel nodded, praying fervently that he spoke the truth. Her backside was sore, and only Ingram’s approval kept her from regretting the fact she had refused his offer of a rest. As the day stretched on, Isabel began to believe Ingram had been optimistic when he said it was not much further to the monastery. Even Jerome’s cheery company could not distract her from a growing number of aches and pains.
When the twin towers of the abbey chapel finally came into view, rising above the trees in the distance, Isabel could have wept with relief. Her backside was now numb, and she worried about her ability to stay on her horse. Only the realization that they were approaching their destination distracted her from the fear that she would disgrace herself by falling to the ground.
Lord Chetwynd had disappeared by the time Isabel’s horse carried her through the gates of the abbey. A porter helped her dismount and took her horse to be stabled with the others. When Marianna appeared by her side, Isabel was clinging to a post, testing to see if her tingling legs would support her. Her maid had obviously found the journey easier to bear.
“Why aren’t you as lame as I am?” Isabel asked in a peevish tone.
“I rode astride, my lady. It’s the advantage of being a servant.”
“Of course. It took all my energy trying to balance. I’ll ride astride tomorrow.”
Marianna looked doubtful but didn’t argue. “Let us go directly to the guest house and have a wash, my lady,” she suggested, indicating she had been given directions to the room where they would sleep. “You’re to have your own bedchamber, and I’m to be with the other serving women.”
“Oh Marianna, don’t leave me,” Isabel said, close to weeping. In her weakened state she couldn’t bear the thought of being alone on her first night away from home. “Please stay with me.”
“You won’t be alone, my lady.” Marianna spoke the words shyly, with a slight smile.
Isabel tried to conceal the discomfort she felt at Marianna’s assumption that she would spend the first night of her marriage with her husband. Since she hadn’t confided the circumstances of their union, her maid’s assumption was natural. Isabel was sure Lord Chetwynd would make some arrangement so they had separate sleeping chambers, and then she could explain the situation to Marianna.
