Although the routine itself became familiar, the countryside they traveled through was always changing, and it continued to delight Isabel. In one lush meadow, blanketed with late-blooming flowers, she observed small green birds flitting from bloom to bloom. When she declared her pleasure at the sight, she discovered Ingram shared her interest in spotting birds. From that day on, he began pointing them out to her and identifying ones she didn’t recognize.
Before long, Jerome noticed their pastime and joined in. Although his sharp young eyes were effective in spotting birds, his loud enthusiasm often scared them away before Isabel or Ingram could spot them. After it had happened a few times, Ingram accused him of making up the sightings, and Jerome’s guilty expression led Isabel to believe it might be true.
While Isabel was forging friendships with the two men, Chetwynd remained a distant figure. At first the evenings were awkward, as she waited for some sign that Chetwynd might approach her. He was always polite to her, and even attentive when others were watching. But since he never spoke to her in private, Isabel suspected he intended to keep his distance and ignore the scene that had taken place the last time they were alone together.
Although Isabel considered approaching him, each time she thought about it, she found an excuse to back down. She still felt embarrassed about her outburst that had ended their confrontation. But she also remembered his harsh response and couldn’t bring herself to apologize. She was still struggling with the fact that he had assumed she’d had a lover. If he hadn’t happened upon her at the pond, matters might have progressed differently. Instead they started off badly, and she wasn’t sure things would ever improve between them.
Marianna was clearly puzzled by the situation, but she was protective of her mistress, and tried her best to shield Isabel from the gossip that continued about their marriage.
There was one incident during this time that strained the uneasy truce between Isabel and Chetwynd, and it revealed just how close to the surface their feelings toward each other lay. The caravan had been crossing a rugged mountain when it occurred. The trail was steep, and the terrain posed a challenge for Isabel. Ingram and Jerome stayed close, giving advice and watching to see that she navigated the climb safely.
When the danger of the steep climb was past, the two men relaxed their vigil. The caravan had started downhill, and Isabel was absorbed in the view of the valley below when her horse stumbled. Surprised by the sudden shift, Isabel tried to grab hold of her saddle, but she was too late to avoid falling. The path was narrow and before she knew what was happening, Isabel was rolling downhill, bouncing over rough ground. Instinctively she protected her head with her arms and cape, and her rolling came to a sudden stop when she collided with a tree in her path.
Aware that the downgrade was deceptively easier than the ascent, Chetwynd had been looking back at the long line behind him when it happened. He was horrified at the sight of Isabel losing her balance. Her fall brought her closer to where he was, and he jumped from his horse. Scrambling down the steep grade, Chetwynd reached her seconds after the tree stopped her from rolling farther.
Isabel was dazed by how quickly the accident had happened, but her heavy clothing had protected her from serious harm. Before she could untangle herself from the cape wrapped tightly around her, Chetwynd was kneeling over her.
“Stay still,” he ordered, pushing her onto her back when she tried to sit up. He loosened her clothing and gently ran his hands down each arm. By the time he started to do the same to her legs, Isabel had recovered enough to be affected by his intimate probing. Her face had warmed and her limbs were tingling. From her position on her back, she could see that there were many curious eyes trained upon them from above.
“I’m fine,” she said, wiggling to avoid the hands that had the power to do surprising things to her body.
Since the night in Arles, Isabel had done her best to forget how her body responded to his touch. Now she was afraid that he might perceive the effect he was having on her. No doubt her reaction would confirm his conviction that she was a wanton woman.
“Stay still,” Chetwynd said as she tried to move away from his hands. He knew his voice sounded cold, but he was too worried to care. “I need to make sure nothing is broken. You could be unaware of a serious injury.”
Isabel lay back, holding her body rigid and staring at the sky. She did her best to ignore his hands as they traveled over her ribs and up under her breasts. They were playing havoc with her nerves as they kneaded each new area.
“Does that hurt?” he asked as he gently pushed on her stomach.
“No, I’m fine, truly,” she said, trying not to weep. Although her heartbeat was racing and she felt dizzy, she suspected these symptoms had little to do with her fall.
“Is my horse injured?” she asked between clenched teeth, afraid to move until he gave her permission.
Relieved when he found no broken bones, Chetwynd relaxed. “Your horse is fine. He’s standing where you fell and is waiting patiently for you.”
Chetwynd extended a hand to help her to her feet. Isabel wished she could avoid his hand, but she recognized that she needed his help on the uneven ground. Before she could thank him for his help, Ingram had reached them and Chetwynd turned away from her.
“She’s uninjured,” he said sharply to Ingram. “Help her back to her horse, and this time keep a better watch on her.” Chetwynd moved
