Chapter 2
Amaury strode toward Denis as if he was not at any disadvantage. He halted a dozen steps away and surveyed Isabella’s half-brother, his expression wary. “You must be Denis de Marnis, by your colors. I would not have known you. You were but a boy when I rode east.”
“Yet fully knighted now, and proven on the battlefield.” There was a sharpness in Denis’ tone, as there often was when he felt he had fallen short of a measure. “And who are you? You trespass on my father’s lands…”
“Your father’s lands? It is my father who lies in the crypt of Montvieux, alongside his forebears.”
Denis stuttered for a moment. “You are Amaury de Montvieux?”
“And no other, returned home after eight years abroad to find this.” He gestured broadly in the direction of the former keep. “Are you responsible for this travesty?”
“Montvieux burned, through no influence of mine,” Denis huffed. His destrier stamped impatiently and tossed its head.
Amaury stepped forward and seized the beast’s bridle. Isabella almost smiled that the stallion gave one last stamp, then flicked his ears, ceding to Amaury’s aura of command.
Denis straightened like a viper about to strike. “I had naught to do with it, and neither did my father.”
“Though you claim my ancestral holding as your father’s own,” Amaury noted. Red rose on the back of Denis’ neck, making him look young in contrast to the knight. “Tell me now if you were the one to strike down my father.”
“He died in his sleep,” Denis said but Amaury’s glare compelled him to continue. “Though he and my father were at odds.”
“That, at least, did not change.” Amaury’s tone was wry and Isabella almost smiled.
The antagonism between their fathers had been long-standing and of common knowledge.
She knew her own father said a great deal in privacy about Lucien de Montvieux, particularly when the wine had been flowing, and wondered if Amaury’s father had done the same.
How sad it must be for Amaury to arrive home and not find his father awaiting him. Isabella had always suspected that Lucien de Montvieux had been close to his sons.
Her half-brother clearly felt no such compassion.
“My father insisted that Montvieux become a daughter house of Marnis and rightly so, though your father protested the wisdom of this scheme.” Disdain touched Denis’ voice and Amaury bristled visibly.
“You cannot know the truth of it, for you have been away, so I will tell you.” If Denis strove to sound gracious, he failed.
He sounded haughty. “Montvieux’s harvests have been meagre.
Your justice has been inadequate. Your forests are occupied by criminals and vermin who prey on passersby.
My father knew it would be safer for all for him to assume command of Montvieux. ”
“I wager my father did not agree.”
“Nay, he did not. The two were to meet and parlay at the bridge between our lands but your father never arrived. Fearing duplicity, my father sent me to these gates where I learned of your father’s demise.
The seneschal surrendered the seal immediately.
” Isabella could hear the smile in her brother’s voice.
“It was the most peaceful conquest I have ever known.”
“Where are my brothers?”
“Who can say? They fled like the cowards they are.”
There was a terse moment then, as if Amaury did not believe Denis, as if he feared his brothers shared the fate of his father. When he spoke, his question surprised her. “Why did your father fear duplicity?”
Denis grimaced. “It has become his habit in these times, and not without cause.”
That at least was the truth.
Isabella watched Amaury study her brother, and found herself unable to guess his thoughts. He seemed to be toying with a small object in one hand, but she had no notion what it was. Then he glanced up at her and her heart stopped cold. “Is this true, Lady Isabella?”
She was shocked to be acknowledged, and even more astonished that he remembered her name.
“It is the tale I have been told,” she admitted, then heard her brother’s muttered curse.
She raised her chin. “I cannot vow to it, Denis, as I was not here to see with my own eyes.” She looked at Amaury again.
“I did not see your father before he was laid to his final rest, sir. The recounting of events, however, has been consistent from the outset, and my father, you should know, was grieved by the passing of your father. They might have been often at odds, but I believe they admired each other.” She permitted herself a final comment.
“Life pales without a suitable opponent, they say.”
“Isabella,” Denis hissed. “Must you say so much?”
“My observations were invited, dear brother, and I would not be suspected of withholding any detail of import.”
Amaury’s eyes glinted as he surveyed her and she thought he might have smiled a little. God in Heaven, but his eyes were more blue than any she had ever seen.
Denis’s next words banished any hint of amusement from the knight’s countenance. “I suppose you dared not take such a risk, Isabella,” he said, sounding snide as he could. “Not with the man father intends for you to wed.”
“What is this?” Amaury asked with care. His gaze flicked between Isabella and her brother.
Isabella felt cold. Denis would not.
“It is my father’s plan for the future,” Denis said, his tone challenging. “He said that if you returned, you might regain command of your family holding by performing three tasks.”
“And you are his messenger now?”
“I am always at my father’s command,” Denis declared with pride. “You are welcome to journey to Chateau Marnis to hear his order yourself. My father has taken to his bed of late, and seldom rides abroad, even to indulge the son of his former foe.”
Amaury’s features might have been set in stone, a poor sign to Isabella’s thinking.
“What are these tasks?” he asked, no hint of emotion in his tone.
There was something in his manner that warned his fellows, however, for Isabella noted that the other knights had gathered behind him.
Each had his hand on the pommel of his sword and arrayed behind the knights were four squires, each looking as belligerent as the knights.
The other squires remained in the distance with the horses.
“You would know before arriving at Marnis?” Denis asked, his tone mocking.
“I would know now, unless you lack the authority to share these details with me.”
Denis bristled at the implication. Isabella sensed his mood and shook her head minutely. The man was insufferable in his pride and they were outnumbered – by men far more accustomed to warfare. She cleared her throat slightly and to her relief, Denis took a warning.
His next words were more temperate. “First, you will willingly wed my sister, a noblewoman worthy of the union, despite her age and her lack of beauty.”
Isabella blushed a little at her brother’s blunt speech and lowered her gaze in embarrassment. If she had seen the flash of Amaury’s eyes, that might have encouraged her greatly, but she did not.
“Lady Isabella is but a few years younger than me, if I recall correctly, and I do not consider myself to be so aged as that.”
“But she is ancient for a maiden,” Denis said sadly. “Nonetheless, you have little choice. You may get a son or two upon her, if you act swiftly.”
Had there ever been a man more vulgar than Denis? Isabella was certain there was not – until she recalled the man who had taught Denis all he knew.
“The other conditions?” Amaury demanded.
“Secondly, you must restore justice in Montvieux’s lands.”
“They are abandoned.”
“They are not. The woods abound with brigands and thieves. There can be no mercy for the fiends who have taken up residence here.”
“Yet you ride to hunt here, with your sister, in an undefended party.”
Denis’ color rose. “They are less bold in daylight, and I am accomplished with my weapons.”
“Ah,” Amaury said, a wealth of skepticism in that single utterance. “And you said there was a third edict.”
“The delivery of a healthy male heir, of course. Stability is what is needed in these lands.”
“And when I fulfill these tasks?”
“Then the seal of Montvieux will be returned to you, of course.”
“Such a list could take years to accomplish.”
“Indeed.”
Isabella bit her lip, fearing that her age and lack of fertility might mean that Amaury could never succeed. She felt his gaze upon her and kept her own fixed upon the ground, dreading his response, though she guessed what it must be.
“And in the interim?” Amaury asked.
“You will surrender two-thirds of your taxes and tithes to Marnis, and remain under my father’s authority.”
“Two-thirds!” Amaury sounded suitably outraged.
“In your absence, Montvieux has surrendered all to Marnis, but my father is certain that you will need some funds to restore justice as he commands.” Denis was well-pleased, and had to be sneering. How mortifying it was to call such a man ‘brother’.
“And if I decline this opportunity?”
“Then Montvieux will be mine, under somewhat more favorable terms, I must say, and Isabella will reconcile herself to a life in the cloister.” Denis cleared his throat. “If you fail, it should be noted, the result will be the same for both Montvieux and my sister.”
Amaury shook his head. “It is not truly a choice.”
“Nay, it is not. My father has a way of ensuring that he achieves his desire.”
Amaury once again turned his attention upon Isabella. She felt the weight of his attention as surely as a touch and her heart skipped when she looked up to meet that steady blue gaze. “What say you, Lady Isabella? Would you put your hand in mine, given such terms and the odds against me?”
He could not be serious.
“The question surely is whether you would take my hand in yours,” she could not keep herself from replying. “Any fool knows that you could wed better. Perhaps even my brother realizes as much.”