Chetwynd berated himself for his clumsiness. The first night of their journey, and he was doing what he had promised himself, and her, not to do.
“I’m sorry, Isabel. I should have known better. It’s hard for a man and woman to sleep together without something happening. It’s a natural thing. I should never have entered your bed.”
When Chetwynd started to get up, Isabel turned quickly toward him. “Are you going elsewhere to sleep?”
Chetwynd heard the plea in her voice. It was her first night away from home, and he knew she didn’t want to be alone. He waited for her to ask him to stay, but she didn’t. Instead she moved even further to her side of the bed as though to prove she would keep her distance.
If she had asked him to stay, he might have been able to refuse. But her silent plea was much more effective.
“Go to sleep, Isabel,” he said, settling back on his side of the bed.
Rolling away from him, she was comforted at hearing him address her informally. He was not going to leave her bed. Lulled by that thought, she relaxed and thought about what he had said. It was hard for a man and woman to sleep together without something happening. It wasn’t her fault, or his. Just something that was natural for any man and woman.
Chetwynd could hear Isabel’s breathing relax as she drifted into sleep. He envied her, as he was still vividly aware of her body so close to his. He blamed his wakefulness on the long period he had been without a woman. But it wasn’t just any woman who occupied his thoughts and kept him hard. It was the nymph who moved erotically through the water, who slept on the ground with her hair spread around her, who had laid her hand on his bare chest.
Chetwynd finally had to acknowledge that he wasn’t going to be able to sleep in Isabel’s bed, or even her room. After he was sure she was asleep, he quietly left the bedchamber.
CHAPTER SIX
WHEN ISABEL AWOKE, HER HANDS INstinctively reached to massage her stiff calf muscle. As she kneaded it, she remembered the gentleness of Lord Chetwynd’s hands, first on her calf and then on other parts of her leg. The thought of his touch on her inner thigh brought warmth to her cheeks and a flutter to her stomach. She turned her head cautiously, but the warmth disappeared when she found herself alone in bed.
Thinking that Chetwynd had arisen early, she rolled to his side of the bed and found the smell of his hair still on the pillow. Even as she breathed in his scent, her sore back and thigh muscles were complaining at the movement. She wondered how she would face mounting a horse again. Although tempted to wait for Marianna to come help her get ready for the day, Isabel wasn’t sure how long it would be before her servant arrived.
Cautiously she dropped her legs over the side of the bed and pushed herself into a standing position. It was an effort to straighten up, but she finally managed. Washing and dressing slowly to minimize motion, she felt better the longer she was upright. Hoping to find other members of her party on their way to worship, Isabel opened the door and squinted at the sunlight. She cautiously moved one leg in front of the other.
As she rounded a corner, Isabel caught sight of Chetwynd emerging from another room. She was about to say something to him when he turned back to speak to a woman just inside the door. Chetwynd was pulling on his doublet as he walked away.
Realizing what she was seeing, Isabel raised a clenched fist to her mouth to keep from shouting her anger. Instead of spending the night in her bed as he promised, Chetwynd had sought out another woman to be “natural” with. He must have left after she fell asleep.
Unwilling to face Chetwynd until she had gotten her feelings under control, Isabel pulled back to wait until he disappeared. When she rounded the corner again, Ingram stood in her path as though waiting for her.
“Good morning, my lady,” he said. “May I escort you to chapel?”
Wondering if Chetwynd sent him to find her, she murmured, “I forgot something in my chamber. I’ll find my own way.”
Ingram scowled, seemed about to say something, then changed his mind and departed.
Although she hadn’t even been aware of his absence, Isabel felt betrayed that Chetwynd had left her bed in the middle of the night. He had promised to stay, but in fact the brute couldn’t constrain himself from seeking another’s bed on their wedding night.
Instead of following the rest of the guests into the church, Isabel headed in the opposite direction. Desperate for a place to be alone, she kept walking until she found an orchard beyond the stables.
It was a peaceful spot. There were a few late apples left on the dew-covered ground. Isabel picked out one that wasn’t too bruised. Sitting with her back against a tree, she bit into the apple and wondered how she was going to deal with Chetwynd.
Isabel knew she was in trouble. She desired a man who was not available. Although he was not the fantasy champion she had dreamt about, in some ways he was much more. He was flesh and blood, and last night she had wanted nothing more than to have him continue to touch her and make her his wife. He must never know how she felt. Clearly, he had just wanted a woman, and since he didn’t want a wife, he had found someone else to fulfill his need.
Throwing the apple core into the air as hard as
