THE evening meal began as a somber affair. Apparently all were worried about the health of their queen. But Arthur stood tall and announced she was quite on the way to recovery, and the mood lightened. Even Lancelot had arrived, which sort of stunned Isabel. She thought for certain the poor little puppy would be attempting to sneak into Gwen’s heavily guarded quarters or be off plotting revenge against mushrooms worldwide.
As her platter was placed before her, she realized that she’d been served a ton of vegetables and duck and not one ounce of eel.
She looked over at Arthur, and his plate was piled high with the vile stuff. He grinned and winked at her, then whispered to a server. That platter of eel was replaced with a bowl of what looked to be some kind of stew.
She ducked her head and smiled, digging in to her veggies. Oh, yes, like it or not, she had fallen fast and hard. She was so in love with Arthur it almost hurt.
Arthur spoke into James’s ear, who then spoke into Tom’s ear, who then spoke into Isabel’s ear. “He says that the bet did not include actually having to eat the eel. Does this make sense?”
She nearly had wine flying out of her nose and mouth. She caught herself and tried to pull it all together. Then she whispered into Tom’s ear, “Relay to King Arthur that this is a thing called a loophole. And he is lucky to be given reprieve this time.”
Tom relayed the message to James, who said, loudly, “A goose pole?”
“A loophole,” Tom said to James. “A loophole! You know, when a person attempts to get away with something. By using sneaky tactics! Jeesh. And the countess has decided to give the king reprieve on this one.”
Again, Isabel and Arthur’s eyes met, and neither were able to contain it. They both fell into gales of laughter. Isabel covered her face with her napkin, hoping when she lowered it, everyone would have magically disappeared. No such luck.
But, instead, Arthur stood. “Sirs, the Countess Isabel and I must needs discuss possible goose poles in our potential treaties at the meeting. Please stay and enjoy the sweets.”
He came around to her chair. “My apologies, Countess, I did not discuss whether you would prefer to stay for the sweets.”
“Oh, no, King Arthur,” she said, standing. “I am quite anxious to explore the possible repercussions of these goose poles.”
ALL decorum they attempted to maintain dropped the moment they entered the solarium, two rooms away. And then Arthur took her hand and led her back out to the gardens, both finally allowing their laughter to let loose.
Isabel had to hold her tummy. “Oh, Arthur, we were so bad.”
He grinned, the light from the lanterns making his eyes gleam. “Yes, but it felt so wonderful.”
“We should return to the table, having resolved our disagreement over goose poles.”
He laughed again. “We shall announce our mutual understanding when we break fast in the morn.”
“Are we for it or against it?” she asked.
“I assume we must define what ‘it’ is.”
Isabel almost lost it. “I guess we must.”
Arthur stopped grinning, then pulled her close. “I am so happy when I am with you, Isabel. You make me feel like I can soar. From the moment we parted this afternoon, I felt lacking, your presence so missing from me.”
Isabel sucked in a breath because she couldn’t have said it better. It was a busy afternoon, yet empty. Without Arthur there, it just wasn’t the same.
She nodded. “Yes, Arthur, I miss you when you aren’t there as well.”
“You fill a need inside me. I cannot describe it. I know not what our solution is that will make us all happy, I only know this: I do not believe happiness is available to me without you in my life.”
“We will figure it all out, Arthur. Somehow, someway, I believe that Gwen and Lance, and you and I will end up happy. Let us trust fate again on this one.”
There was a knock from inside the solarium, and they quickly stepped apart. James stood there, his eyes lowered, shuffling his humongous feet.
Arthur picked up a pebble from the rock garden and tossed it at the door. When James looked up, startled, Arthur motioned him out.
“What is it, James?”
“I have a message for the countess,” he said, with a small bow in her direction.
“What is it, James?” Isabel asked.
“Mary, miss Mary, the one who—”
Isabel smiled. “I know who she is, James. She is my trusted friend.”
“She, well, she asked me to tell you that she has come down with a bit of a headache, and that she will be unavailable for the rest of the evening. She sends her sincere apologies and hopes that you”—he coughed—“are able to turn down your own bed furs this night. She is most sorry, Countess.”
Right. Isabel would bet that Mary had never taken a sick day or night in her life. But it was so sweet that she almost cried. “Please, James, convey my sincere hope that her head feels better in the morning.”
He looked up and nodded. “Oh, yes, she will be . . . I mean, she hopes to be better by morning light.”
“If there’s anything I can do? Shall I visit her?”
“No, no, I believe she is already abed.”
“Well, then, James, I suggest that if she is still awake that she sips a bit of tea, with a dollop of honey and perhaps just a drop or two of sweet mead.”
“I will most certainly offer such.” He went almost as red as Mary’s hair. “I mean, I will have her mate bring it to her, should she wish.”
“Thank you. Please give her my best.”
“I will.”
“And James?”
“Yes, mum?”
“Tell her thank you.”
“I will. And I believe she will already know you would say such, Countess.”
“Of course she will. She and I are pinky-finger friends.”
James’s chuckles followed him back into the castle. “Pinky-finger friends,” he said. “I have had a good laugh over that one.”
Arthur looked at her, his puzzlement all over his face.
“Want an interpretation?” Isabel asked.
“If that means that you will explain what just occurred, then indeed, I most definitely need an interpretation.”
“Quick or detailed version?”
“The one that I will understand.”
“Okay, here’s my take. James left the dinner table and went to see Mary. Mary assessed the situation and created an excuse she could give me, wanting me to know that she would not be breezing into my chamber this evening to assist me in preparing for bed.”
“Because?”
“To give me complete privacy.”
“To what purpose? Did she expect a man to visit you, Isabel? Are you expecting a visitor? Who is he?”
Viviane was right. Isabel knew that all of the emotional scars could not possibly have completely healed by
