His hand clutched hers at her words. His throat convulsed.
"That is why you let him touch you this way..."
"Aye. That is why."
The music ended and she curtsied.
"Goodbye Geoffrey."
Then she turned and walked away.
Twelve
Geoffrey paced up and down the corridor. He was waiting for Richard to bring him the keys to the room above the King's. Then he would climb down through the window and save his bride.
"Here."
Richard and John appeared bearing a long rope and a key. They opened the door and went to the window. John stared at his friend as he wrapped the rope securely around his waist and wrists.
"You're sure about this Geoffrey?"
"Aye I'm sure. Once I'm down, you must leave. Go to the port as we arranged. If I am not there within the hour, set sail without us."
Richard and John exchanged worried glances but nodded, each grasping the rope.
Geoffrey leaned out over the window and looked down. Twas a long fall indeed, with naught to break his fall but the roses.
"Fare thee well."
Then he stepped into the darkness.
Slowly his friends lowered him down the sheer stone wall. He looked down, making sure his feet did not bump into the glass of the window. At last he felt the ledge below and leaned his face against the cool exterior wall.
Luck was with him. The window was unlocked and opened with ease. He slipped inside and looked about. Through another door was the King's sleeping chamber. Isabel was in there.
He crept forward, afraid of what he would see.
Isabel's eyes were tightly closed as she stood in Philip's embrace. The King was kissing his sweet bride. She wore naught but her bed clothes.
She looked terrified.
And then she opened her eyes and saw him.
<><><><><>
Isabel fought back tears. The King was not hurting her. On the contrary, he was being gentle and courteous. As if she was there willingly. As if he had not forced her to lay with him.
Perhaps if she closed her eyes and imagined it was her love... perhaps she could bear it. But the King's hands on her body felt foreign, his lips slimy and repulsive. She stood still, knowing that Geoffrey's life depended on it.
And hers as well.
The King's hands slid over her breasts and he moaned. She bit her tongue to hold back the whimper that threatened to escape her lips. Her eyes were tightly clamped shut as the King kissed her neck.
"Your beauty inflames me little Nun."
She knew what he would do next.
He would undress her.
And then he would take her.
What if she could not hide her disgust from him? Perhaps she should have told Geoffrey to run. Then she could have spurned the King's desire for her. Sacrificed her life instead.
A noise made her look up. She stood stock still, staring at her love. He was here, in the chamber. The King was too engrossed in kissing her to notice. He tugged her gown down over her breasts and started laving them with his long tongue. Geoffrey's hand gripped his sword and he stepped forward from the shadows.
What on earth was he about to do?
If he attacked the King his life was forfeit. Just being here in the King's chambers uninvited was enough to warrant his arrest. She must do something to stop him.
She must-
"Sire! I must- use the chamber pot."
He sighed deeply and gestured to the doorway behind him. Geoffrey's eyes widened and he stepped backwards and out of sight.
"If you must. But be quick about it."
Isabel nodded and curtsied. And then she scurried from the room. Geoffrey pulled her into his arms and embraced her.
"We must hurry."
She nodded her ascent as Geoffrey threw her old black cloak over her shoulders. He pulled her toward the window and wrapped a rope around her waist. Then he lowered her out into the night.
The moment her feet touched the ground she unwrapped the rope and stepped away. Then she watched in horror as Geoffrey attempted to climb down it unaided. Her heart was in her throat as he shimmied briskly down the rope.
At last he stood beside her. He kissed her soundly and grabbed her hand.
"We must make haste."
"Aye."
He kissed her again and tenderly stroked her cheek. Above them they heard the King call out. They looked at each other and ran into the night.
Thirteen
Geoffrey stared out at the undulating sea. They were already out in open water, with nary a ship in sight. They'd set sail only hours before, without telling the captain their destination. Now twas time to settle their plans.
Richard ran his hands through his hair.
"My sister in Wales can take us in. They always have work for able men. But tis no place for a lady."
Isabel joined them, her face clear from fear. He pulled her against his side. Twas too late for conventions. She was his.
"I care naught for that. Only that we be safe. You've all given up so much already."
"So Wales it is."
John and Richard looked to him for the final word. He nodded, finalizing their choice. He smiled at Isabel.
"How would you like to marry a farmer?"
"I would like that very much."
"Tis settled then."
"Aye."
"Aye."
Richard and John went to tell the captain.
"Tis too bad really. I had hoped to give you a fine home. Perhaps someday."
"I would be happy in a hut. So long as we are together."
"Aye, me as well."
He smiled and pulled her into his arms.
"Now all we need is a priest."
<><><><><>
Isabel smiled from her perch atop Geoffrey's new horse. They'd had just enough money to purchase three horses, pay for the ship's hire, and some food. Isabel was also bought a plain gown to wear that mercifully had fit her well enough.
Now their pockets were empty as they rode up the coast towards Richard's brother in law's estate.
Of course, she had a secret. One she planned to soon share.
The land was beautiful and rolling with green in all directions. Up ahead there were white tipped mountains with craggy peaks. Aye, twas a magnificent land. Richer and wilder than England.
She glanced over her shoulder at her husband to be. His blue eyes glinted in the sun. The land suited him. He too was wild and beautiful.
A cozy stone house on a hill overlooked lush fields. A pretty woman with a bairn on her hip came to the door. Her face lit up with joy.
"Richard! David, come, tis my brother!"
A handsome young man ran out of the house and out to greet them. His eyes twinkled as he took them all in.
"Well, you've come far for just a visit."
Richard dismounted, his fancy Knight's garb looking out of place in the wholesome country setting.
"Tis more than a visit. We come seeking refuge. And work, if you'll have us."
"Aye, of course. You and your friends are welcome."
Isabel smiled as Geoffrey helped her down from their mount.
"We thank you both."
David bowed and kissed her hand as prettily as any courtier.
"Come inside, you must be famished."
Geoffrey clasped hands with him as well.
"Actually, tis a Priest we are after. If there is one nearby."
"Aye, we can send word. Tis a wedding yer after?"
Geoffrey nodded and took her hand.
"There is land to be had as well if ye want your own. The earth here is rich and fertile."
"Mayhap in the future."
Isabel pulled him aside before they entered the house. Geoffrey looked at her questioningly. His eyes grew large as she held up a large gem stone.
"Will this do? I have more."
"Where did you get those? Not from the King I pray!"
"Nay. They were my mothers. It's a portion of my dowry. The mother superior must have secreted them in the hem of my cloak. I thought- mayhap we could share this with Richard and John. If it suits you."
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
"It seems my bride is dowered after all."
She smiled at him as he brushed his hand over her cheek.
"A rich, fat wife!"
"I'm not fat!"
"Aye, but ye will be! When you grow round with my child."
"Aye husband, I will."
Two Days Later
Isabel stood in her borrowed wedding gown, staring out at the sea of faces. They had been here but a short while and already the people had welcomed them with open arms. She knew in her heart that they were safe here.
They would be happy, at last.
The dress was green and matched her eyes. Richard's sister had kept it from her days at court. She had gifted it to Isabel, insisting that it no longer fit her. Geoffrey was similarly garbed in another man's clothes.
There was no church here, no lords and ladies. It was but a simple gathering of country folk sitting on low benches on a hill under a tree. Nearby there was a table piled high with plain but hearty fare for the celebration after.
A lone fiddler would serve for the dancing.
But it mattered not. These simple things only served to make the occasion more special. In Isabel's mind, everything about this day was perfect.
After the King's palace she was sick of false riches. Friends and love were the most valuable things in life. And those she had in abundance.