If Ingram was correct, Isabel now believed he left her bed for that of another. In fact, there was no chance he could be tempted by another woman after caressing Isabel’s soft, shapely limbs and tasting her delicious mouth.
When he returned to camp and saw Isabel sitting by the fire, she looked like she’d been sitting on logs all her life. He wasn’t sure why that surprised him, since he knew she could sleep on the ground and swim like a water nymph. Perhaps he expected her to behave as the women at court did, expecting people to wait upon them and doing little for themselves.
Isabel stole a glance at the silent man at her side and caught him grinning to himself. “Your humor seems much improved, my lord,” she couldn’t help remarking.
Aware they were being watched by others around the fire, Chetwynd stood up and offered Isabel his hand. “Let’s go for a walk, my lady.”
Isabel nodded agreement. Because her muscles were still tender, she came slowly to her feet. Chetwynd moved his hand to her arm to give her support and led her away from camp. The ground was uneven and she bumped against him, then quickly found her footing without making a complaint.
“I notice you’re walking a little stiffly today, Isabel,” Chetwynd said with a trace of amusement in his tone. He remembered that she had boasted that she would have no trouble keeping up with the caravan. “Did riding astride help at all?”
Surprised that he noticed, she answered brusquely, “I’m fine.”
Chetwynd didn’t reply, but he recalled the remarks Ingram had made about Isabel as they were scouting the area. His usually reticent comrade had a lot to say. When he related the incident at the fortress, he praised the quickness with which Lady Isabel followed his lead. He also commented on her ability to ride and withstand hardship, as he too had noticed the stiffness in her movements. He even spoke of her appreciation of her surroundings and her sense of adventure. All this from a man who by his facial expression, rather than his words, had made it clear he disapproved of the match when it was announced.
It was dark once they were away from the campfire. When they stopped at the edge of the river, Isabel had the fleeting thought that it was the perfect place to bring someone you planned to toss into the water.
“I hope you didn’t bring me here to drown me, my lord.”
His sudden burst of laughter startled Isabel. “You have an active imagination, my lady. It’s no wonder you and Jerome get along so well.”
Thinking about how seldom people surprised him, Chetwynd leaned his shoulder against a tree before adding, “No, I have no intention of drowning you. Although you’re fortunate we weren’t on the edge of the river this morning.”
It was Isabel’s turn to smile. “Yes, that was fortunate.”
“Come to think of it, drowning is not a method I would consider. I remember all too well how skillfully you move in the water.”
Isabel bit her lip at his reference to the first time he had seen her and pretended to be interested in the weeds that grew along the bank. She knelt down to pick a few of the white flowers that she could see in the dark.
Chetwynd stared at the top of her head. “I’m sorry about this morning. I should have handled things better. The only excuse I have is that I did not have a restful night.”
Isabel stood up to face him. “You need not be concerned about tonight, my lord. Marianna has set my bedroll in a tent with her and the other women. You can sleep where you wish tonight.”
Her tone was haughty, and he suspected she was thinking of seeing him with another woman. “Thank you for seeing to the sleeping arrangement,” he said.
Isabel did not want to talk about sleeping arrangements. The subject brought back unnerving memories of the few hours they had shared a bed. That he left to satisfy his desire with another woman still hurt. According to their agreement, he had every right to do as he pleased, but that didn’t make her feel any better about it. She sought to return to a less painful subject.
“Traveling through this area reminds me of the tales Father Ivo told me about the Greeks and Romans. Jerome says there are other sights to see along the way. I look forward to seeing more evidence of the building talents of the ancients.”
As she spoke, all Chetwynd could think about was his desire to reach out, pull her against him, and seek to discover if her mouth was as intoxicating as he remembered.
Ignoring the impulse, he said, “There is an aqueduct ahead you might find interesting. The Romans built it to carry water from the river to one of their settlements. It’s an impressive structure and is often mentioned by people who write about the period.”
“I think I know the one you mean. Father Ivo showed me some drawings he made of an aqueduct. I understand the Romans built baths. Will there be a Roman bath on our route?”
Engrossed in the topic, Isabel unconsciously hugged herself. Away from the comfort of the fire, the cool air from the river started her shivering.
“You’re cold.” Chetwynd was glad for an excuse to wrap his arms around her and rub her back with his hands. Pretending he was doing nothing unusual, he rested his chin on her head and answered her question.
“There are a few Roman baths along the way. An especially grand one is located near Aachen. According to legend, Charlemagne was fond of taking the waters there. I think there may also be a bath near Mainz, which is on our route. I will ask Ingram. He shares your enthusiasm for Roman architecture.”
“It would be
