“Arthur, I cannot even imagine more lovemaking. I’ll be lucky if I can walk tomorrow.”
“No lovemaking. I swear. I will be lucky if I can hold up a sword. Just loving. I needed the feel of you.”
She heard the catch in his voice and wiggled her way around to face him. “What’s wrong?”
He pushed her hair from her face, then kissed her brow. “Who is to say that something is wrong? Can a man not just want to be with the woman he loves?”
She frowned, although she doubted he’d be able to see it. “Remember that conversation we had earlier about honesty? Truth?”
She felt his chest heave slightly. “Yea, I do. You would have to invoke that at this time.”
“I invoke it, King Arthur, every single time.”
“And should I, perhaps, invoke an ‘I care not to talk about it right now’?”
“It would be so unkingly.”
His chest rumbled with laughter. “How so, Countess?”
“Because kings face troubles head-on. They do not avoid them by slipping in bed with countesses, who are busy not doing countess things.”
“What were you busy doing?”
“Dreaming about kingly things.”
“Good dreams?”
“You are avoiding the question, and that is so very unkingly.”
“You are not naked enough, and that is so uncountessy.”
She pulled away from his embrace and sat up. “Arthur. What is it?”
He sat up as well, brushing his hands through his hair. Al least she thought so. The lighting was a little iffy.
“When I returned to my bedchamber, Gwen was waiting for me.”
“Oh, good! She’s feeling better.”
“I suppose that depends on your perspective.”
“Oh, bad. That sounds bad,” Isabel said, reaching over to the cup of mint by her bed and grabbing a fingerful.
“She believes I am having an affair.”
Isabel sighed. “Yo, Arthur, you are in my bed.”
“She wants us to reunite.”
Isabel didn’t know how a truly broken heart felt until that very moment. “Oh, I see.” She tried to gather her senses, which had scattered to the winds. “Well, then, I guess that’s that. I wish you well. Now get the hell out of my bed.”
Arthur leaned over and scratched something over something and suddenly the candle beside her bed came to life.
It wasn’t University of Oklahoma stadium-light illumination, but they were able to see each other.
“Please, Arthur, go back to your wife.”
“Do you honestly believe I would be here if that had been my choice?”
“I’m guessing that you came to tell me the news.”
“I climbed into your bed to say good-bye?”
“Well, that was kind of weird, but I can believe it. You have a sweet heart.”
“Oh, Isabel, do you truly think that of me?”
“Arthur, I no longer know what to think of anything. You have been in love with Gwen for so long.”
He stood up. “I came to tell you, nay,
“Arthur.”
He shook his head as he moved to the door. “No, Isabel. I came here for help and guidance and comfort. Instead you handed me judgment. I am so sick of this.” He turned and looked at her. “I was here because you were my choice. There was no question or doubt. Minutes ago I would have given my life for you. I am such a fool. Not very kingly, is it?”
“Arthur.”
“Sleep well, Countess.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“WE must do something,” Mary whispered to James. “There is something terribly wrong with my lady. She is teaching us this CPR thing and demanding we be allowed to have what she calls recess each day, but she is very much not herself.”
“And my lord,” James said. “He is working us harder than e’er, and his temper is short. We are mostly afraid to utter a word, when afore he asked us to speak up at all times. I have ne’er seen him slice through anything set before him as he does now.”
“We must formulate a plan,” Mary said.
“Yes. Yet I cannot think of one.”
“Leave it to me, James. But I will need your assistance to put it in play.”
James smiled at his bride-to-be. “I love you so much, Mary. I cannot wait to make you my bride.”
She grinned back at him. “And I cannot wait to call you husband. But if our vows are to be perfect, we must needs fix this rift between the king and the countess. They are standing up for us.”
“Yes.”
Mary suddenly jumped up and James caught her. “What?”
“Our vows! Our vows! The king is an honorable man and the countess is such a priceless lady. Our vows!”
“I am sorry if I am not quite following your logic, Mary.”
“No need. I will let you know what needs be done when I have it all in place.”
“I trust that you will.” He held her close, but not too hard. He had once hugged her so tightly that she had cried out. ’Twould never, ever happen again. “We will be happy together. This I do vow.”
She laid her head into his neck. “We have a very long lifetime for you to continue to prove it true.”
“I very much look forward to it.”
As the days passed, there was progress, although, it seemed, not with Gwen. She laid abed and had continuous complaints.
But her seamstresses had finished many breeches, and Isabel had coaxed the women into taking possession and actually wearing them. At least for that hour when they were set free to play.
This morning Isabel had decided to teach them how to play a primitive form of putt-putt golf. The women were happily whacking away when Mary came running to her, tears streaming down her face.
“What is it, Mary?” she asked.
“I am afraid my vows with James are off.”
“What? Why?”
Mary looked around. “May we go elsewhere? Some privacy?”
Jenny, Gwen’s chambermaid, walked over and asked, “May I help?”
As diplomatically as she could, Isabel said, “Yes, please. If you would oversee the rest of recess?”
Mary sniffled. “I need Countess Isabel.”
Jenny nodded. “Of course. I will be happy to take over for the rest of the hour, Countess.”
“Teach them to get the freakin’ stones in the holes. That’s the goal. Stones in the holes.”
“Yes, Countess.”
She turned and focused on Mary. “Now tell me, please, what happened.”
Mary swiped away the tears. “May we please go to your chambers to talk?”
“Of course.”
