The words had slipped from Jerome’s mouth. While Ingram looked puzzled, Chetwynd’s face tightened noticeably. Jerome must have known he had said more than he should have. He rushed on, “Neither one of us could sleep, and we talked to pass the time. Lady Isabel told me the story.”
“What else did you talk about?” Chetwynd snapped, fearful of the confidences that might have been shared.
“Just my own story, my lord. About how I joined your troop. Lady Isabel asked how I became your squire. It was after that she told me how you rescued her when she was just about my age.”
Chetwynd relaxed. It was foolish to think Isabel would give Jerome intimate details or that he would spread tales. He knew he owed the young squire a huge debt of gratitude.
“You did well, Jerome. Your observations may help us discover the outlaws. And I’ll never be able to thank you enough for what you did to help Lady Isabel.”
Although Ingram must have been puzzled by the exchange between Chetwynd and Jerome, he didn’t inquire about it. Instead he asked, “Do you have any idea which way the outlaws went?”
“No, I believe they left in the night. If I had been on my own, I would have tried to pick up some clues at their cave, but I didn’t want to delay moving Lady Isabel to safety. It took us a long time to travel, as she was hurt and we were both tired.”
“You acted wisely,” Chetwynd assured him. “They will be long gone by now, Ingram. From what Jerome has told us, I think we can assume the kidnappers were not common bandits stealing to feed their families.
“Marianna recognized the merchant, and he left here in a suspicious manner. If the outlaws were soldiers hired by my enemies, we do have someone to watch for. He may not suspect we are on to him.”
Chetwynd moved restlessly in his seat, eager now to look in on Isabel. “In the meantime, I think we should delay our departure for a day to make sure Lady Isabel is rested and healing properly. Then I will persuade her to stay here while we go on to the palace.”
When both Jerome and Ingram looked surprised at his words, Chetwynd defended his decision. “The convent is the safest place for Lady Isabel until we know more about the kidnappers. After her experience, I’m sure she will want to rest in a safe place.”
“Lady Isabel does not frighten easily,” Jerome commented. Then when he saw the frown Chetwynd directed at him, he added, “I’m sure you know best, my lord.”
Chetwynd ignored his words and turned toward Ingram. “Perhaps we should send the rest of the men on to their homes. If Lady Isabel stays here, we don’t need them for protection. After resting a day, the three of us can travel to the palace on our own.”
Ingram delayed his answer until Jerome had left for his bed. Then he spoke up. “I think you should wait until you speak with Lady Isabel before you make a final decision about leaving her behind, my lord. You promised to take her to her brother.”
Although Chetwynd resented being reminded of his promise to Isabel, he knew Ingram was right. If there was one thing they had all learned about Isabel, it was that she had a strong will and a mind of her own. He would have to be careful how he approached the subject of leaving her behind. He nodded to acknowledge Ingram’s warning, but didn’t comment further.
“I’m curious, Chetwynd. What’s the story Jerome was talking about? You never mentioned that you knew Lady Isabel before we arrived at Narbonne.”
“I didn’t know her. Not really. Eight years ago, I kept four soldiers from attacking a young maiden in a meadow. It turned out to be Lady Isabel. When we arrived at Narbonne, she remembered me.”
“And you, did you remember her?”
Chetwynd raised his eyebrows. “I remembered a feisty little maid who fought off one of the soldiers, giving him a vicious bite on the hand when he dared to touch her.”
“She hasn’t changed much,” Ingram said.
Chetwynd nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”
After wishing Ingram a good rest, Chetwynd went directly to Isabel’s bedchamber. Marianna and Gilda were dozing in front of the fire, but they awoke when he entered the room.
“Thank you for watching over Lady Isabel. Go to your beds now. I’ll stay with her,” he said, pointing to a bench along the wall. “I can sleep there.”
The two women looked at each other, and Chetwynd was afraid they might insist on staying. He wanted to have Isabel to himself for a while. But neither woman objected, and Marianna was indiscreet enough to smile her approval.
Alone at last with Isabel, Chetwynd knelt beside her bed. She lay on her back with the blanket pulled up to her chin. In spite of the discolored cheek, her face, surrounded by a mass of curly hair, looked peaceful. He breathed in the lemon scent of her hair and closed his eyes at the pleasure it gave him. He had planned to rest on the bench, but he couldn’t move away. Settling into a more comfortable position kneeling at the edge of her bed, he rested his head on his arms. With his face close to hers, he listened to her breathing and couldn’t imagine a more reassuring sound.
WHEN ISABEL TRIED TO MOVE IN HER SLEEP, SHE felt something holding her head in place. She opened her eyes and discovered Chetwynd had his arm on her hair. He was asleep, slumped beside her bed. She thought about how tired he must have been to fall asleep in such an awkward position. She held her head still so as not to wake him.
His head was buried in his arms, his golden hair mingled with her own dark curls. Although she did not wish to disturb him, Isabel could not resist touching his hair with
