"Isabel, this is Sir Geoffrey."
She curtsied dutifully, trying to avoid his hot blue stare.
"He will be taking you to meet the King."
"The King?"
"Yes child."
"I would go outside the gates?"
"Yes child."
"But Mother-"
"You will be protected."
Isabel glanced again at the Knight who was watching her with a strange look in his eyes. He looked fierce suddenly. Protective.
"But what of my Uncle and his sons? What if they-"
"Sir Geoffrey will protect you. He has given me his word."
The Mother Superior was trying to communicate something to Isabel with her probing gaze. But what it was exactly, she could not be sure. She knew she had no choice but to adhere to the Abbess's decision.
"You will go and pack for the journey. You will wear your secular clothing. Tis more practical."
"Yes Abbess."
She curtsied, knowing the Mother Superior had her best interests at heart.
And yet, as she went to her room to pack for the journey, she was filled with fear.
Three
"This is... the Lady Isabel."
His men stared at her utterly dumbfounded. He felt slightly vindicated that he wasn't the only man struck dumb by her appearance. Twas not just him that was rendered momentarily dumb by her beauty!
The woman next to him was dressed in a plain gray gown and dark cloak. It was hooded, modestly hiding her hair and part of her face from view. It was impossible to completely disguise her appearance however.
Geoffrey had been stealing glances at her from the moment she'd walked outside in her day clothes. As a novice who had yet to take her vows, it was permissible, preferable even, that she dress as an ordinary woman for this journey.
But there was nothing ordinary about Isabel Saint Claire.
Her hands were white as he helped her onto her horse. They'd barely exchanged more than a word or two but he was painfully aware of her discomfiture. Isabel was more than worried about this turn of events.
Nay, she was terrified.
He had noticed her fear at leaving the Nunnery. It had never occurred to him that a desirable, high born woman would go there for protection. He'd been imagining a legion of pinched mouth spinsters.
Isabel was so far from that it was laughable.
Even sitting on her horse, still and silent, she exuded an elegance that would make anyone take notice of her. For a moment he wondered what the King would think of her. She was far lovelier than any of the women at court, twas true. Philip would want her for himself, Geoffrey knew. She might be helpless to resist the King if he pressed her to be his mistress.
Geoffrey pushed the distasteful thought aside.
Isabel was under his protection and would remain so.
Twas his duty but twas more than that.
He already felt a connection to her, a desire for her, that trumped all else.
With a scowl he mounted his horse and signaled to John and Richard to ride on either side of the woman. He would ride ahead alone and clear his head. Twas no good to have a woman rule over him so.
No matter how fair and regal she may be.
<><><><><>
Isabel inhaled deeply, the sharp cold air biting her nostrils. As fearful as she was, it was glorious to ride a horse again after so long. She'd been an excellent rider in her day, though she loathed the side saddle they'd made her switch to after she turned twelve.
The Knight with the warm eyes had ridden ahead, leaving her to ride between two of his companions. Their names were John and Richard and were clearly friends from long ago. Although they were frankly curious about her, they made her feel at ease instead of peppering her with endless questions.
Nay instead they had gleaned as much as they could without making her even notice!
They hadn't even yet broken for lunch by the time they'd gotten the name of her family and her interests. They even had her telling funny stories about the Nunnery. In turn they regaled her with stories of their knightly prowess, mostly exaggerated.
Richard had a way of making John seem foolish. And John had a way of making Richard seem like a knave. Their back and forth was endlessly fascinating to her and she felt herself relaxing in their easy company.
"And then John followed the bar maid to the back room where she swatted him with an old fish. I swear you could smell him coming for a week."
"Aye, but your barmaid swatted you with an old boot."
Richard was smiling smugly.
"Aye she did. But she swatted me in the morning for leaving too soon!"
Isabel was laughing as Geoffrey rode up. The man wore a scowl, which she was starting to realize was nothing new. It wasn't anything about her, she reminded herself.
She mustn't take all his moods to heart.
She wasn't a little girl who had to fear a man anymore.
She was safe.
"Will we be stopping to eat soon Geoffrey?"
The man exuded disdain as he slanted his eyes at her before answering John's innocuous question.
"No unnecessary stops."
"But the Lady-"
Geoffrey looked her over cooly. The warmth she'd felt in his gaze before was gone. It was a relief.
Wasn't it?
"Are ye tired?"
"Nay."
"Ill?"
"I'm fine."
"Then we ride."
She lifted her chin and nodded her head at him cooly as he nudged John out of the way, taking his place at her side. Richard fell back as well, leaving her alone with the silent Knight.
Why he wanted to ride beside her was a mystery. Clearly he did not like her. She forced herself to ignore the dismay that she felt at the thought.
Twas not important that he like her. Twas only important that he protect her. Of that she had no doubt. The man's honor shone from him like a light.
She turned her head slightly to look at him. To her surprise, the Knight was watching her. He had an odd look on his face. He looked... hungry.
"What were you laughing about back there?"
"What?"
"You were laughing. Is it customary for Nuns to be so familiar with men?"
She stiffened up. A criticism. Her laughter annoyed him apparently. She glared at him, deciding that she would laugh as much as she liked for the duration of their journey.
Perhaps even more than she liked.
She would laugh excessively.
She shrugged, knowing that she would do nothing of the sort. Forced gaiety was not her style. And yet, if she could find further ways to irritate him, she might be inclined to explore them.
"Nay."
"What?"
Now he was the one who was confused by her statement.
"Nay tis not customary for Nuns to converse with men. Nor is there much opportunity for gaiety in the Nunnery. But I am not a Nun as yet. And we are not in a Nunnery."
His mouth opened slightly at the clear dismissal in her tone. Then he scowled at her again, more ferociously than before. Isabel pinned a serene expression to her face and stared straight ahead. Ignoring the handsome Knight was not easy, but it gave her a perverse satisfaction to do so.
Isabel refused to so much as glance at him as the day wore on. He was watching her closely, she knew. She didn't want him to know that his words has hurt her.
Nay, twas more of an irritation than hurt.
Aye, Sir Geoffrey was more like a fly to be swatted than the fearsome mastiff she'd imagined.
She rode without complaint though they rode for many hours, making her bone weary. It was nearly dark when he lifted his arm to signal the riders to halt.
As they rode into the woods in search of a place to camp she felt his eyes on her.
Just as she'd felt his attention for most of the day.
He'd said nothing, but he hadn't stopped staring at her.
Not for a moment.
She shivered and glanced around, looking for an easy way to dismount from her horse. She felt the world tip sideways as she lost her grip. She could not stop herself from crying out as she started to fall.
Four
Geoffrey saw the Lady Isabel begin to topple. He was tying his horse up when he saw the movement from the corner of his eye. In an instant he was by her side, grasping her around the waist and lowering her the ground.
Her lithe figure slid against his, giving him an intimate knowledge of her curves and just how bountiful they were.
And they were in truth bountiful.
He tightened his arm around her slender waist to steady her. He'd been wrong to make her ride so long. Twas his fault she was fatigued.
Hot lust sliced through his gut as he stared down into her surprised face.
"Are you alright?"
She swallowed, clearly nervous to be standing so close to him.
Against him.
He didn't step away though. Not yet. He couldn't.
His feet refused to move.
She took a deep breath and her breasts moved against him tantalizingly.
"I'm fine."
He stared down at her face for a moment longer and then stepped back.
Geoffrey forced himself to release her from his arms. It took more strength of will than he could have dreamed. Twas like pulling oneself from the sea with lead weights wrapped around one's ankles.
He turned abruptly, needing to put space between them before he did something foolish. Like kiss her. Only he would be filled with hunger for a Nun. A Nun! Twas absurd.