A Knight In Her Arms(4)
A tremor went through her and she dropped the cloth into the water, sloshing it onto her skirt. Isabella knew her face was white when she met his eyes again. “Freemantle is my husband Hamon’s cousin.”
Alric nodded and his mouth was tight and grim. “Matilda has agreed to him marrying you, lady, and ruling Godestone in his own right.”
Her first thought was that this was a lie. Hamon had left her everything, probably because he’d believed himself invincible and not thought to leave it elsewhere. But before now there had never been an issue with her rule, and Matilda had seemed happy enough. Why the change of heart? And why inflict such a man as Freemantle on her? If her memory was correct he was as cruel as Hamon.
“No,” she said furiously. “I will not let him through my gates. I will not let him in my bed!”
“You may have no choice, he comes with quite an army and Matilda’s blessing. If you do not let him in then he will take Godestone by force.”
Isabella’s green eyes blazed. “We will fight him!”
Something about her seemed to rivet his attention. “You will need help, lady. My men are here to stand by your side.”
His offer was surprising and she hesitated, suspicious. Perhaps he was Freemantle’s man; perhaps this was all an elaborate trick? Slowly she opened the carved box that had belonged to her mother and now to her, its little drawers and crevices full of healing lotions and potions, and found the ointment she had always found helpful for cuts and scrapes among her garrison. She held out her hand for his, and after a momentary hesitation he gave it to her.
His hand was warm and heavy in hers, the calluses on his palm and fingers rough against her softer skin. Normally such contact meant little to her. She wished her men to remain healthy because their health was important to the safety of her castle, that was her reasoning, but she had never gazed upon a man’s hand with such intensity, nor longed to feel it caressing her skin.
Hastily she began to apply the ointment.
“I will not refuse your offer, Alric, but it puzzles me why you have come here to warn me. In fact why you are here at all? You are from Wenton, you say? Where is that? I would guess it is a long way from Godestone.”
“I am here because I heard word of what Matilda was planning and went to King Stephen. He told me to ride to you to help you, but in return he wants you to bring Godestone to him, lady. He believes you will prefer his rule to Matilda’s, especially when hers comes with the face of Freemantle.”
Isabella looked at him with a frown. “You heard word?” she repeated. “So you are here at Stephen’s behest, Alric?”
He hesitated then shrugged and admitted, “I would have come anyway, lady.”
But why? she wanted to ask. What am I to you?
He was speaking again. “You would be wise to agree to support Stephen. He is sending some of his army to you, although they will probably not reach us before Freemantle. Godestone is rich and you are a good ruler, and Stephen needs such people on his side. And he would not ask you to marry anyone you do not wish to marry.”
“While Matilda would have me wed Freemantle,” she added grimly.
She could not help but feel betrayed by Matilda, a woman she had been loyal to all these years, and one she had thought would understand her predicament, would support her. But to Isabella sides were not as important as saving Godestone. And herself.
“We have time to prepare,” Alric said, and suddenly his fingers closed around hers, holding her hand in a firm grip.
Surprised she looked up into his face. His smile gave her courage. Her immediate thought was that Alric would stand by her and together they would see Freemantle off.
Freemantle, sitting at the table at her wedding to Hamon, his face full of lust and greed. The idea of marrying another man like that . . . she shuddered, suddenly awash with memories of those days, the misery and pain, the sense of despair when she saw her life stretching on and on. When Hamon died it had been the hardest thing she had ever done, pretending to mourn when she wanted to dance and clap with joy.
Abruptly she stood up.
“When will Freemantle and his men reach us?”
“Tomorrow or the following day. We rode fast to outpace them.”
Alric tried to stand up too, but his knee made him stagger and almost fall. She caught his arm to steady him, but he was big and heavy, and for a moment they were both in danger of falling over. Breathlessly, she heaved her shoulder under his arm, aware of his bulk and weight against her own slenderness.
She was intensely aware of his body touching hers as if her skin had become super sensitive. A tingle of excitement shimmered across her breasts, tightening the tips, and suddenly the soft skin between her legs began to moisten and swell. Isabella was shocked that such feelings should be upon her now, when she least needed the distraction. She was the Ice Queen; she did not feel lust or desire. She needed no man.