“I plan to burn them, sir.”
“Good thinking. Just be sure to keep the fire contained, Lance. We would not want it to get out of control and burn down the cottage.”
Isabel hid a grin, as it was nearly the same warning she had given Arthur during their stroll here.
“I would, with your permission, Lance, take one of those back to the castle with me, to show to the cooks as warning. Preferably one still relatively intact, as the ones you have mangled look not like much of anything except crushed grayish vegetation.”
Lance quickly bent and pulled another savagely from the pungent earth. Then he stepped forward and, with a quick bow, said, “Will this do for your purposes, my king?”
“It will indeed, Lance,” Arthur said, taking it and placing it into the pouch at his hip. “Well, then, carry on. And I thank you for your concern for the safety of the people of Camelot.”
“At your service, sir. Always.”
That was, when he wasn’t busy servicing Gwen, Isabel thought, then mentally kicked herself for the nasty nature of that observation. As she, herself, was lusting after a married man, she had very little wiggle room to judge.
And Lance’s passionate proclamation that he would always be at Arthur’s service held a wealth of meaning, well beyond just being a good little soldier. It was obvious to Isabel that behind his boyish sincerity lay a boatload of guilt.
Isabel was dying to explore the inside of that cottage but knew that would be too cruel to Arthur, so she suppressed the request.
“Shall we return to the castle then?” she suggested. “I have need to check on Samara before the evening feast.”
“Certainly.” They turned to go, but then Arthur swung back. “And Lance?”
“Sir?”
“Please do not allow your anger and grief to cloud your judgment. If I managed to approach without you being aware, another might be able to do the same.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“You have the keenest senses I e’er have witnessed. Use them. I would not want to lose one of my very best.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“And do be careful about that fire.”
“Yes, my lord.”
He swiveled back around and held out his arm. “Shall we?”
“Let’s do it,” Isabel said, gladly laying a hand on his bicep.
THEY had walked for several moments afore Isabel whispered. “You are an amazing man, Arthur.”
He glanced at her in surprise. “I am very happy you think so. But what provoked that observation?”
“Any other would want to throttle that boy senseless.”
“Other than a short-lived sense of satisfaction and some sore knuckles, what would that accomplish?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe teach him the error of his ways?”
“That moat has been crossed, Isabel. There is no taking back what has already occurred, and it most certainly would not change his feelings for Gwen. I cannot beat the love for her out of him.”
“That is true.”
“I believe at one time, when I first began to suspect, that I had hopes that this thing betwixt the two would fizzle, as a fire doused with water. I no longer believe or hold hopes for any such thing. Truth be told, were I able to voice my feelings to Lance, I believe I would wish him well and ask him to forever treat Gwen as she deserves.”
“You have an amazing capacity for forgiveness, Arthur.”
He pondered that. “Perhaps not so much that as a newfound understanding of how they are feeling. It must be a heavy burden to love that deeply and not be able to express it and proclaim it to the world.”
“Why can you not privately allow Lance to know how you feel? It might well lift some of that burden.”
“The moment I voice or acknowledge, Isabel, no matter how kindly or understanding that discussion might be, the moment I lay voice to it, I am accusing him of treason.”
“You’ve voiced it to Gwen. So in effect, haven’t you accused her?”
“I have let her know that I’m very aware of her infidelity. She understands the implications. She also understands that at any moment I could proclaim it to all who will listen, and she will pay that steepest of prices. She will pay with her life.”
“Well, that would be a ton of fun to have hanging over your head.”
“She also knows that I would ne’er do such a thing to her.”
“She trusts that you love her that much.”
“Yea, I guess she does. She does not overestimate how much I care for her welfare. What she perhaps overestimates is that love and caring are not necessarily the same thing. No longer.”
“May I ask you something?”
Arthur chuckled. “Since when have you ever asked permission?”
“Now. Because your honest answer is important to me.”
The castle came into view as they rounded a bend. The scents of sweat and work animals nearly overwhelmed her. She almost wished to run back to the scent of the forest, even though it also held odors she would just as soon avoid.
“I do not believe I have ever been less than honest with you, Isabel,” he said, just a little offended that she had to qualify the question. “But you have my word that my response will be an honest one.”
“Why did you confide in me? Who is to say that I would not turn around and blab this to someone who would use it against you or Gwen or Lancelot?”
“I believe we have been over this.”
“We have?”
“Yes, but perhaps I was too circumspect. Allow me to elaborate, with all of the candor at my disposal.” He stopped her and turned her to face him, so that she might see the truth in his eyes. “From the moment I laid eyes upon you, I was taken with you. As we traveled to the castle, you were the most enjoyable companion I had e’er spoken with.
“I knew before we had reached the bailey that you . . . moved something inside me that I had ne’er before felt, not even while courting Gwen.”
“Okay, we have been over this before,” she said, blushing a bit. Her blue eyes shied from his own. She attempted to free herself of his grip. “Never mind.”
“No, please allow me to finish.” He released her and held up his hands. “I hold you not against your wishes.”
She looked up at him. “You do not have to worry. In that I trust you completely.”
“Yes, I must worry.” He shrugged. “I wanted you. But I just felt that if you believed that I was simply some randy bastard who had no morals, who had no problems with betraying my vows, you would lose all respect for me and would reject me. I could not allow you to believe such a thing. Call it self-serving, but I not only wanted you, I wanted you to believe in me. Perhaps so that any relationship we had would be true. To each other. To accomplish that, I had to be honest about what was happening around me. So that you would not dismiss me out of hand as a cad and adulterer. I did not want you to believe it was pure lust that drove my attraction.”
“You took a huge risk, Arthur.”
“Perhaps. But you . . . I cannot explain it . . . You were that important. And I saw in your beautiful blue eyes that you felt at least a portion of what I was feeling. Perhaps misplaced, but I had to trust in that and take the chance. Or risk the possibility that I would ne’er have a chance at all. And I firmly believe in wanting to look back at my life at the end of my days with no regrets. Not forging ahead with my feelings for you would have been a regret I would have lived with all of my days.”
Her eyes went moist, but she blinked back any tears. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I am so glad for your honesty. And your hopes and desires are not just one-way, Arthur. You are so right. Had I not known about the
