The pond was isolated and almost impossible for someone to stumble upon. That fact was the best reason to doubt a soldier had appeared. Isabel moved to the spot where she had seen the vision and searched the ground. Breathless, she fell to her knees. At the very edge of the pond where the earth was soft, there were two large footprints. Someone wearing boots had stood in this very spot.
CHAPTER TWO
WHEN LORD CHETWYND ENTERED THE manor’s great hall to join his men, he saw they had already made themselves comfortable at the lower tables. He was annoyed at missing his opportunity for a swim, and the warm air and boisterous noise in the hall did not improve his humor. He held back to observe the scene.
Chetwynd easily identified the solidly built man seated at the center of the high table as the lord of the manor. Theodoric, his full head of white hair shining in the light, was clad in an elaborate purple mantle trimmed with fur and silver ornaments. Chetwynd’s own unadorned black doublet was spartan in comparison.
An older woman sat beside Lord Theodoric, but a quick glance along the table revealed no sign of the water nymph who had kept him from his anticipated swim. He had followed Justin’s directions to the pond, only to find it occupied. At first he had hoped to join the swimmer, but when she looked up, her startled eyes had been exactly like those of her brother. Lady Isabel’s movements in the water made it clear she awaited a lover, and he suspected she wouldn’t appreciate being interrupted.
Chetwynd wasn’t sure what he expected, but discovering that Isabel had matured into a shapely, sensual woman had been a shock. He remembered an innocent slip of a girl who had called him an angel. There had been something unbearably sweet about young Isabel. Of course, he had never been an angel, but for some reason her mistake had touched him.
He remembered other things about the young Isabel. Though small of size, she had boldly stood up to the soldiers who were tormenting her. The bite she gave one of her pursuers had been deep. It caused the young soldier great pain when it later became infected. Chetwynd’s face softened at the memory of the struggle she had put up before being struck on the head. Her courage had given him time to reach her before the soldiers could overcome her.
According to Justin, Lady Isabel had not been untouched by her mishap. Chetwynd knew that she had not married as expected. He had assumed that leaving her with Emma’s mother would prevent the incident from becoming common knowledge. Surely a small scar that could be hidden by her hair would not be enough to discourage a suitor.
For all that, Lady Isabel had appeared happy enough as she moved sensually through the water. He frowned as he imagined the couple frolicking in the pond after he rushed away. Her involvement with a lover could very well hamper the hope Justin had of bringing her to court. Chetwynd regretted seeking out the pool Justin had described, upset that he had neglected to mention that Isabel also swam there.
Finally pulling away from the wall he had been leaning on, he made his way to the high table to greet the lord of the manor. Chetwynd wondered how much Lord Theodoric knew about his daughter’s activities. Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised at the change he found in Lady Isabel. He had grown up on a secluded farm manor himself, and knew that country life encouraged lusty appetites. Yet, he couldn’t help preferring his memories of an innocent, courageous girl to the reality of the sensual woman he had encountered at the pond.
When Chetwynd introduced himself by name, Lord Theodoric smiled and rose to indicate that Chetwynd join him at the table. Theodoric spoke loudly to be heard over the noise of the great hall. “Welcome, Lord Chetwynd,” he said as he indicated that others make room for his guest. “We meet at last.”
“Your hospitality is appreciated, my lord.”
“Sit, sit.” Theodoric motioned to the servants, indicating that food be passed to Chetwynd, and urged him to fill his trencher.
“Your reputation precedes you, Lord Chetwynd. My son Justin has often spoken of the time you spent training together with Count Jonas.”
“It seems a long time ago now. Although our training often pitted us against one another in mock battle, we still managed to become friends,” Chetwynd replied, remembering those carefree days.
“Justin says you are one of King Louis’s most favored warriors. I congratulate you on your success.”
Chetwynd tried not to grimace at his host’s words. Lord Theodoric had no way of knowing that his favor at court had plummeted of late, or that Justin no longer held him in high regard. Instead of answering, he took a bite of the joint of meat on his trencher.
“I hope you will enjoy your stay at Narbonne, Lord Chetwynd. Was this your first assignment on the Spanish March?”
“It was my first assignment in the region with my own soldiers. Many years ago I served Lord Malorvic when his troops guarded the border.”
Chetwynd wondered if, after all these years, Theodoric might connect him with the injury to Lady Isabel. Perhaps she had told her father what happened at the hands of Malorvic’s men.
“I heard about your campaigns against the Saxons, Lord Chetwynd. Your success at besting the heathens is legendary. You’re young to have had such an illustrious career. Perhaps after your meal you could entertain us with some tales.”
Chetwynd’s military prowess was well-known. Shortly after his first success against the Saxons, King Louis had rewarded his efforts by making him a knight and granting him a benefice. Aquis, located near the king’s palace in the north, was made up of rich farmlands and a thriving vineyard. The purpose of the grant was to provide Chetwynd with the means of raising enough funds to outfit his own troop.
“I’m
