Chapter Seven #2
No one seemed quite sure what to do. Isabeth was panicked, with a poker as a weapon, two women were down, and Marian was simply screaming incoherently.
That was how Ronan found the group as he stood in the entry, trying to figure out what in the world was going on.
But his gaze immediately moved to Isabeth, who was the only one armed.
It looked to him as if she had attacked Marian’s women, but he sincerely couldn’t believe that. Not without provocation.
He called to her, forcing her to focus on him.
“My lady,” he said steadily. “Lady de Brito? What has happened here?”
Marian, seeing her husband, rushed towards him but that brought panic from Isabeth, who thought she was being attacked again. She began swinging the poker wildly, forcing Marian to retreat. Even Ronan retreated out of range of the waving poker.
“My lady?” he said again, louder this time. “What is amiss? What has happened?”
Isabeth looked at him and he could see that she was absolutely terrified.
“They… they attacked me,” she said, tears pooling in her eyes.
“I came to speak to Lady de Wolfe to tell her that slapping my servants was unacceptable but, instead, she challenged me. She grabbed me and would not let go. She threatened me and tried to hurt me, so I fought back. Then her women came in and they attacked me, so I was forced to defend myself.”
Ronan grunted unhappily at the tumultuous turn of events. “My lady, I told you that I would see to Lady de Wolfe,” he said. “I told you that I would deal with her. You did not have to come to her yourself.”
“I did,” Isabeth snapped. “When I left you, you headed in the opposite direction of where she was. I had no way of knowing when you would speak with her, so I came to do it myself.”
She was right. After speaking with her, he hadn’t gone off to find Marian immediately.
He fully admitted to himself that he’d gone to find Christian because he was so embarrassed to deal with his wife’s behavior that he simply had to take time to summon his energy to address the situation, but that delay had cost him.
His apathy when it came to Marian had cost him.
And Isabeth.
At the moment, he realized just how terrible this entire situation was and his focus shifted to Marian, who was back to cowering in the corner.
He felt like a fool for ignoring her when, clearly, she was creating such a horrific problem for Isabeth.
He’d been told that – and he acknowledged that – but still, he’d delayed dealing with it.
But no more.
The time had come to take a stand.
“It is my understanding that you are creating an intolerable situation, Marian,” he said, addressing her informally in front of everyone. “I am told that you are making demands and that your women are slapping Lady de Brito’s servants. Is this true?”
Marian’s hands came away from her head and her eyes widened as she looked between Isabeth and her husband, realizing that Isabeth had already complained about her before she ever saw her with the French knight. That brought indignance.
It brought rage.
“As your wife, my position is the greatest wherever I go,” she said, thrusting her chin up as if daring everyone to defy her.
“You are a de Wolfe. I am a de Grey. My wishes shall be met in my own household and in any other household, it is the host’s duty to ensure my needs and wants are fulfilled. I need not explain this to you.”
Ronan had heard that imperious tone too many times to count.
“It is also your duty to be a gracious guest,” he said steadily.
“You have not been that while at Ravenscar. You have shamed the de Wolfe and de Grey names with your behavior and the behavior of your women, and now you attack your hostess?”
Marian’s gaze flew to Isabeth. “She… she attacked me first!”
Ronan knew something about his wife – Marian was selfish and outrageous, but she was also cunning. It would be her word against Isabeth’s because no one had been present when the trouble started. Reluctantly, Ronan looked at Isabeth for clarification of the situation, but she simply shook her head.
“It is not true,” she said softly.
It was clear by Ronan’s expression that he believed her, but he was trying to get to the bottom of things. “What happened when you first arrived?” he said. “Did you exchange words?”
Isabeth looked at Marian. She knew that if she didn’t strike hard and strike fast that Marian might end up remaining at Ravenscar as long as Ronan did.
He’d made it clear he wasn’t leaving and Marian seemed to want to manipulate the situation.
And above all, Isabeth was tired of these people.
Not Ronan so much, but certainly Marian.
She’d told Marian that she wouldn’t tell Ronan what she saw, but her word of honor wasn’t going to hold up against a woman of Marian’s disrepute.
She could just tell that Marian was going to do anything and everything to discredit her in front of Ronan.
Isabeth wasn’t going to let her.
“We did not at first,” she said, her focus returning to Ronan.
“I was coming to speak with Lady de Wolfe when I heard strange sounds coming from her chamber. Her women were nowhere to be found, so I approached the door. I heard what I thought was a gasp, as if she might be ill, so I opened the door to find Lady de Wolfe on the bed and a man between her legs. You want to know the truth? Now you have it. She attacked me because I saw her fornicating with another man and if you do not remove her from my home, Sir Ronan, then I shall order my husband’s men to throw you both bodily from Ravenscar.
I am sick with grief over the death of my husband and you have brought this horrible woman into my midst, making the situation far worse. I will never forgive you for that.”
With that, she tossed the poker aside and stormed out of the chamber, tears in her eyes that quickly streamed down her cheeks.
Odo was behind her, rushing after her, having heard what she’d said.
He was heartbroken for his young mistress, following her until she reached the stairs before coming to a halt.
Isabeth raced up the stairs alone to the living chambers above, slamming the door and bolting it once she reached her rooms.
She lay on the bed and wept.