Chapter 7
Isabella could not sleep. She was fuming, more disappointed in Amaury than she had any right to be.
Of course, he was disinterested in her views.
Of course, he made choices without any regard for her advice.
She was a fool to expect aught different from her new husband.
Such disregard was the tale of her life.
Aye, the truth of it was that she was annoyed with herself. Why did she expect more from him? Why did she hope he was different from her father and brother?
Because he was handsome? Because he had been courteous to her when it suited him to win her approval?
Because she still felt a curious glow of warmth when she recalled what they had done together – and she wished to do as much again?
He had awakened something in her with his touch, a love of sensation that she had not known she possessed.
True enough, her pride was pricked that he chose his brothers’ company over their nuptial bed, but it had been years since he had seen them. If there had been fondness between herself and her brother, would she not have wished to talk to Denis after years abroad?
Aye, if all went awry in her new marriage, Isabella had a measure of responsibility in that.
Denis always said she talked too much. She, of all people, should have known to hold her tongue, rather than express her view in full detail – knowing full well it was not what her new husband wished most to hear.
Wed less than a day, and already she tainted the future with her choices.
Perhaps she was as doomed to unhappiness as her father insisted.
Isabella sighed and rolled over, telling herself to sleep, then froze when the tent flap opened. There was a stillness, as if whoever had entered the tent was watching her, then she heard a tinder struck.
“You breathe too quickly to be asleep, my lady,” Amaury said quietly. “I would not disturb you but I wish we might talk.”
Isabella rolled over to face him, bracing herself on her elbows to survey him. The lantern flickered, casting a golden light over his features. He was solemn, his gaze fixed upon her. “About your surety that I am mistaken?” she asked and he almost smiled.
“About my error in failing to immediately heed your advice,” he said softly and she almost gasped aloud in her surprise.
“I am sorry, Isabella. I have not conferred with many people in recent years and never with women, but in matters of Marnis and perhaps even of Montvieux, you are more informed than I.” His gaze clung to hers with such intensity that her heart skipped.
“I erred and I entreat your forgiveness.”
Goodness. When he made an appeal thus, Isabella felt her very breath stolen away. She tried to make a jest to cover how affected she was. “No doubt you merely wish for aid with your hauberk,” she said, her tone grumpy, and Amaury laughed.
The merriment transformed his features, making him look young and carefree, and once again she was snared by the sight of him.
“You expect me to scheme more readily than I do, my lady,” he said. “Though again, you speak aright. I have slept in my hauberk more than once out of necessity and do not recommend it. I would welcome your aid that I might join you abed again.”
Isabella found herself flushing at the import of that, but Amaury raised a hand. “It must be too soon for another union, but I would speak with you, and do as much quietly that none could overhear.”
Isabella nodded understanding and agreement. “I am sorry, too,” she said quietly. “I should not have insisted on sharing my view.”
“On the contrary,” Amaury replied. “When you share the knowledge only you possess for the good of the company, you might speak, even if others do not wish to hear.” He inclined his head slightly.
“I thank you for telling me what to expect. I know little of Denis’ nature, while you know him best of all of us. ”
Isabella could scarce believe his words, but he was clearly sincere.
She rose then and he shrugged out of his tabard, leaving his hair tousled after the garment was removed.
He turned his back to her and she admired his powerful build again, and the ease with which he bore the weight of the heavy hauberk.
She unlaced the back, secretly thrilled that she stood only in her chemise with her hair unbound, nearly naked, and so close behind him that she could feel the warmth of him.
Her skin was alive as it had not been before he caressed her and she suspected that would never change.
The hauberk was removed and then the aketon, and once again, she watched the muscles in Amaury’s back flex as he stretched in relief that the weight was gone. She swallowed, denying this newfound urge to touch him, to explore the contours of his body, to find pleasure together once again.
“It is a heavy burden to bear every day,” she managed to say.
“And yet one that has saved my life many times.” He bent over the mailed garment, his hand falling unerringly to an area where the rings were bent.
It would be on his shoulder when he wore the armor, though she had not noticed it.
“This was a blow from a Saracen’s sword.
Without the hauberk, his blade would have sliced me open and you should not have had to endure me as your spouse. ”
Isabella swallowed even though he spoke lightly, watching as he ran his fingertips over the damage. “What was it like?” she asked quietly and Amaury looked up, snaring her gaze with his own.
He did not ask what she meant, merely replied.
“Thrilling, terrifying, uncertain and unfamiliar.” He sobered and frowned a little. “Beautiful, on occasion. We were in Nazareth on Christmas Eve one year.”
“Following a star?”
She was relieved by the twinkle that lit his eyes at that.
“It was overcast, alas.” He sighed. “Mostly, it was dusty and hot, and the battles were savage. Treachery was legion, and yet, there was such valor.” He shook his head, marvelling at some memory.
“Every town, every river, every well, is connected with a tale from the Bible, it seems. You cannot forget that you walk the same place that Christ and his fellows lived and knew.” Amaury sighed again.
“And yet, and yet, there is war and strife, hardship and such cruelty. I am glad that I went, but gladder yet to be home again.”
“You looked forward to telling your father of it all,” she guessed.
“I did. He had a lively curiosity and would have been intrigued. He would have asked me questions that compelled me to see more in my memories, perhaps to find some conviction that my contribution was of merit.”
“You cannot doubt as much.”
His smile was rueful. “It all seems an exercise in futility, and an expensive one.” He turned to set his armor aside, folding it with all the care a squire would show it.
“You could tell me,” Isabella offered on impulse and Amaury glanced over his shoulder with surprise.
“Would such tales interest you?”
“Montvieux is as far as I have been from Marnis in all my days. I should like to hear more of the greater world.” That was not the half of it. She wanted to know where he had gone, what he had experienced, and see all that he had seen. Even this tent was a marvel to her.
His smile was quick and bright. “Then I will tell you of it.”
“All of it,” Isabella insisted. “Even those details you think unsuitable for a lady’s ears.”
Amaury’s gaze warmed. “All of it,” he agreed, his voice low. “For my bold wife would know more than the pretty tales told to ladies.”
“I would know the truth.”
“And I have already vowed to share it with you.” Amaury took the step between them and claimed her hand, lifting it to his lips. His voice dropped low. “I did not think earlier to consult you and I should have done so. Please do not cease to grant me advice, Isabella.”
“I thought you meant to disregard my counsel in favor of that of your brothers.” She winced. “I was offended.”
Amaury winced and nodded. “Only reasonably so, for you all know different elements of the puzzle,” he said.
She admired that he acknowledged his mistakes and strove to learn from them.
There was a frown between his brows and she had the urge to smooth it away with her fingertip.
“Somehow I must create stability and prosperity at Montvieux, without my father’s counsel.
Be my ally in this quest, Isabella, as well as my wife. ”
“I should like that,” she said, for it was the truth.
“As would I.” He led her then toward the bed, bending to snuff the lantern.
The tent was plunged into darkness again, until her eyes adjusted and she could discern the shadows created by the light of the moon through the silk.
Amaury’s voice seemed lower and more seductive when he spoke again.
“Come to bed, my lady, and let me apologize in another way.”
Isabella shivered with delight, glad he could not see her. “By conferring with me?” she teased.
Amaury chuckled. “I would please you first.”
“But…” Isabella began to protest, only to find the warmth of his lips across her own.
She surrendered readily, his deepening kiss sending a wave of pleasure to her toes.
Every fiber of her being seemed to rise in welcome to his touch, but she still ached a little.
She might have protested, but Amaury guided her down to the bed, his hand sliding beneath the hem of her chemise.
“We cannot repeat what we have done, not so soon as this,” he murmured against her cheek.
“But let me show you another path to pleasure between man and wife.” His lips trailed down her throat even as his hand swept up her thigh.
She lay back when he opened her chemise and kissed her nipple, his caress drawing it to such a taut peak that she gasped aloud.
His other hand meanwhile eased between her thighs, his fingertip landing upon that very sensitive spot with complete surety.