“I have been thinking about it, my lady. I brought in the parcel with a few of your mother’s gowns.”
Marianna opened the case she referred to and shook out a forest-green garment, holding it up for Isabel’s inspection. “What do you think? Dark green suits you. I can hang it for a spell to get the wrinkles out.”
Examining the velvet dress, Isabel frowned, wishing she had more knowledge of fashion. Their home at Narbonne was isolated, and her father entertained few visitors of any importance. She wondered if things had been different when her mother was alive.
“Are you sure the velvet fabric is not too elegant? I’d hate to be overdressed.”
Marianna hesitated. “Do you want me to try and find out what others are wearing?”
The gown had a fitted bodice, high waist, and roomy sleeves that were split at the elbow to allow air to circulate.
“No, that’s not necessary, Marianna. I like the dress. It will be warm enough to banish the chill of the wet evening. Let’s pretend we know what we’re doing.”
Marianna giggled. “The dress will be beautiful on you, my lady. Now let me do something special with your hair.”
Entering the great hall an hour later, Isabel was gratified to notice approving glances aimed in her direction. Her elegant gown was not at all out of place, and Marianna had done wonders with her headdress. She had skillfully braided a creamy silk scarf into Isabel’s dark hair, and lifted it above her head. While the scarf held her abundant curls in place, it allowed a few strands to trail down the back of her neck. A thin veil covered her hair without obstructing the view of Marianna’s handiwork.
Receiving admiring glances was a new experience for Isabel, and she said a silent thank-you to Marianna. As a finishing touch, her maid had suggested she wear a piece of jewelry from her mother’s collection. An ornate pewter cross with a delicate chain hung just above her breasts.
Lord Chetwynd, who hadn’t seen Isabel all day, had been watching for her arrival. But even if he hadn’t been keeping an eye on the entrance, the commotion she caused would have alerted him to her presence. The evening before, it had seemed as though sitting on a log in front of a fire was her natural habitat. This evening she was a fashionable vision as she entered the great hall. Even her slightly nervous smile was charming. There was little trace of the frightened creature he had first seen entering the dining hall at Narbonne.
Isabel smiled more widely when she spotted Chetwynd, and he strode toward her. Although he had no wish to be married, he was becoming more and more interested in bedding his imaginary wife. Since she had already had a lover, it shouldn’t make a difference in obtaining an annulment when the time was right. He placed his hand on her elbow, and it slid through the slit in her sleeve to settle on her soft skin. He felt her shiver at his touch and his mouth went dry, as he knew his hand wasn’t cold.
“You look lovely,” he whispered.
Chetwynd found it difficult to keep his eyes from the cross around her neck. It sat just above sweetly rounded breasts displayed to great advantage by the low-cut gown.
Distracted by his rough hand on her sensitive underarm, Isabel found it difficult to breathe. She fought to control the shivers his touch sent through her body.
“Thank you, my lord.” Her voice sounded husky to her own ears, and she tried clearing her throat. “Marianna was feeling particularly creative.”
“She had excellent material to work with.” Remembering how her hair had looked spread out around her when she slept on the ground near the pond, he had to clear his own throat. “Come. I’ll introduce you to our hosts.”
Originally Chetwynd had hoped to avoid stopping at the elegant manor, wishing to avoid a repeat of the scene with Lady Pacilla at the monastery. But they had needed a dry place to spend the night, and he knew their hosts to be kind people. Chetwynd ignored the murmurs of the other guests as he steered Isabel toward Lord Herbert and Lady Evaline. He could depend upon them to contain their curiosity, but he wasn’t sure about the others in the hall. Chetwynd feared some of those present might be eager to test Isabel’s reaction to palace gossip. He vowed to stay at her side.
Carried along by Chetwynd’s guiding hand, Isabel stared in awe at her surroundings. The high ceilings stretched into the distance, and there were so many people she couldn’t see the end of the hall. The tables were set with gold and silver that glittered in the bright light from the torches mounted on the walls.
As Isabel observed the gowns of silk and brocade worn by the women present, she knew Marianna had chosen wisely. Even the men were attired in lavish tunics decorated with jewelry. In contrast, Chetwynd’s long-sleeved black tunic, although of fine material, was plain and unadorned. But his golden hair and well-shaped form were all he needed to set him apart from other men.
Lady Evaline, tall and elegant in a bright-red gown, welcomed Isabel warmly. “I’m happy to meet you, my dear. Lord Chetwynd has been a favorite of mine since his days in the household of Count Jonas. We used to visit there often. Chetwynd and your brother, Justin, were young pages then. I never knew a livelier pair. You look a little like your brother.”
“Thank you, my lady. I’m most eager to see Justin again.”
“It pleases me to see Lord Chetwynd finally wed. You are lovely, Lady Isabel, and I’m sure you make him proud.”
Warmed by her words, Isabel tried to ignore the unease she felt at the deception she was perpetuating. She couldn’t help but wonder what Lady Evaline would think of her if she discovered theirs was not a true marriage. All Isabel could do was smile and
