Isabel nodded, and Chetwynd leaned toward her again to whisper, “I pledge all my loyalty to you, my love.”
When he saw the tears leaking from her eyes and rolling down toward her pillow, he hugged her to him without another word. It was a while before he could release her; then he put his finger up to her lips to silence her and moved away from the bed.
Still too filled with happiness at his pledge to complain about being left alone, Isabel watched him go. She lay awake for a long time, thinking about his words. All the years she’d spent waiting for her champion to return, he had also remembered her.
It was only much later, in rethinking the exchange, that Isabel considered Justin. Her brother could be very stubborn when he thought he had reason. Isabel wondered what Chetwynd would do if Justin, who knew of Chetwynd’s involvement with the queen, refused to sanction their marriage. It was a thought that robbed her of her contented mood.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, THE LONG TABLES in the great hall were filled with men and women consuming a hearty breakfast to prepare them for the day’s work. The weather was fair, as Gertrude had predicted, and the mood of the workers was jolly. They chatted excitedly about the evening fete and shared stories of past harvest celebrations.
Isabel and Chetwynd, lord and lady of the manor, sat at the head table. When Isabel arrived in the hall, Chetwynd stood to greet her and announced his marriage to those assembled. The announcement was met with robust cheers and rowdy remarks that brought color to Isabel’s cheeks.
Although at first almost everyone sent curious glances in their direction, they were soon forgotten in anticipation of the harvest. Isabel enjoyed her position beside Chetwynd as she watched the crowd devouring some of the food that Gertrude and Irma, with her help, had prepared the previous day.
Being at the head of a household was something new to Isabel, a role she had never sought at Narbonne. The welcome extended by Gertrude and Bosco made her feel immediately at home. As she looked around, she enjoyed the atmosphere of the hall with its high ceiling and scarred wooden tables. The morning sun filtered in through windows set high on the eastern wall. It warmed the dark areas with light. Although not as elegant as her father’s great hall, she preferred its comfort to refinement.
Chetwynd watched his wife as she took the measure of the hall and its inhabitants. When her face settled into a contented smile, he asked, “Do you like what you see, my lady?”
“Oh yes, my lord. It’s a comfortable place. And you’re fortunate in your chief steward. Both Bosco and Gertrude enjoy the respect of your tenants. I can tell by the easy atmosphere.”
Her words made Chetwynd realize he had taken the couple’s competence for granted. “You’re right, of course. They both took to you right away. You seem comfortable in the role of lady of the manor.”
“I do like it here. I’m still eager to visit Aachen, but it’s comforting to know we can return to Aquis.”
Chetwynd’s eyes looked away for a minute, and Isabel realized she had assumed too much. His next words brought her back to earth. “There are still some matters to settle, Isabel.” After a pause he added, “But I’m happy that Aquis pleases you.”
Isabel nodded, wondering if he was afraid to raise his own hopes too high, perhaps because he feared Justin’s objection to their match. Unwilling to dwell on that possibility, she changed the subject. “How can I help with the harvest, Chetwynd?”
“Would you like to try your hand at picking grapes? It’s such a beautiful day, I suspect you’ll enjoy being outside, at least this morning. In the afternoon, Gertrude would be happy to have your help in the kitchen, I’m sure.”
Pleased by his suggestion, Isabel smiled in reply. Justin wasn’t due to arrive until tomorrow, and she planned to make the most of the day. She wanted to forget the fact that the future of her marriage depended upon her brother’s approval. Justin loved her, but she couldn’t predict how his displeasure at Chetwynd’s past actions would color his perspective. It bothered her that Chetwynd set such store upon obtaining Justin’s permission.
In the valley, Isabel watched the women cutting the full and fragrant cones of grapes from the vines. Irma had taken on the responsibility of introducing her to the craft. There had been no vineyards at Narbonne, so everything was new to Isabel. But she liked the smell of the grapes and the feel of the warm sun on her back. After watching Irma for a few minutes, she was eager to try her hand at harvesting the delicate orbs.
The first bunch she tried cutting turned into a mangled crush that stained her hands. She held out her hands for Irma to see, laughing at her first clumsy attempt. When she heard a few women nearby join in her laughter, she realized she was being watched. She determined to do better.
“Support each bunch gently, my lady, until you’ve cut the stalk completely. The grapes are very ripe. Don’t try and pull them away until the cut is made.”
Isabel nodded. On her next try, she held out the perfect, fat cone of grapes and declared with satisfaction, “That’s better.” When a cheer went up from the other women, Isabel’s face eased into a satisfied grin.
Soon Isabel was cutting quickly and steadily. She knew she had been accepted when the women turned their attention from her to gossip about romances that had blossomed during the harvest. There was talk of the evening fete and jokes about the possibilities for what they referred to as adventures. It was clear the fete was much anticipated because of its opportunity to behave with more freedom than usual.
In spite
