Chapter 12 #2
As the sun rose, Faydide snored, her mouth open.
Isabella rose and dressed silently, choosing again the deep red dress, for she would not leave any item of value to be shared amongst the servants of the household.
She had packed her few treasures and took that bag with her now, along with Amaury’s cloak, meaning to entrust both to the driver who would take her and Faydide away.
Her father had ceded that they might remain for the midday meal, to be served after Denis’ funeral.
Isabella would be glad of the sustenance before they departed, though she guessed that was not his reason for making the offer.
Nay, he would have Faydide witness his betrayal; he would ensure that Faydide saw him put her aside and claim Marguerite as his intended.
It was not sufficient that he cast out his wife and the mother of his only son: he would see her heart broken as well.
It was enough to feed Isabella’s newfound sympathy for her step-mother – though that compassion was more easily maintained while Faydide was asleep.
She reached the stables and spoke to the driver, who was assisting the ostler in ensuring that all the arriving steeds were tended. She could not restrain herself from giving Amaury’s cloak one last admiring stroke before she turned away.
Would she ever see him again? Isabella suspected not. There was a lesson, to be sure, to never risk leaving a word unsaid or letting an opportunity escape. If only she had been bold enough to defy her father!
The bailey thronged with visitors, both nobles from neighboring estates and peasants from Marnis’ village.
All were garbed in dark clothing, but there was a ripple of excitement beneath their sombre appearances.
As Isabella crossed to the keep, a large cart loaded with casks of wine was coming through the gates.
Its appearance was greeted with a cheer and much enthusiastic commentary.
How curious that her father had never possessed the coin to buy so much wine as this at once. Was Marguerite’s dowry so rich as that? Or was it the treasury of Montvieux that funded his indulgences in these times? Isabella wagered she would never know.
As she stepped beneath the shadow of the portal, Mallory appeared suddenly beside her.
He might have been conjured by magic. He looked pleased with himself, like a cat that had stolen a bowl of cream, and Isabella felt her resentment of him rise anew.
There was little point in holding her tongue any longer.
“You appear well content to be rid of your sister,” she said.
“But not perhaps of you,” he replied with a smile.
Isabella sighed. “You have never wasted your charm upon me before, Mallory. Why do as much now?”
His eyes narrowed that she spoke so bluntly. “Is it so uncommon for one to realize the merit of a person before they vanish from view forever?”
“Aye,” Isabella said, wishing only to end the conversation. “I believe it is most uncommon.” She would have stepped past him, but he claimed her elbow with one hand, pulling her to a halt. She looked down at his hand pointedly.
“You might temper your response, Isabella. Your father did not wish you at the board this day, but I argued on your behalf.”
“Yet I will not thank you. It would have contented me to dine below the salt.” On the dais, Isabella knew every eye would be upon her, every tongue speculating upon her choices and her future. She would have been happier to disappear into the company.
He smirked, the wretch. “I suppose you think you must become accustomed to humbler circumstance.”
“I cannot imagine why my thoughts are of concern to you.”
“Because your situation could change, Isabella,” Mallory hissed. “Consider it while you can.”
“Consider what? That I should lie about my marriage? To what avail?”
“Your father is in a celebratory mood. You might take advantage of that while you can.”
“Why? He cannot be in such a fine mood that he will accept Amaury de Montvieux as my lord husband.”
Mallory winced and shook his head. “You cannot succeed in winning your way in that matter, so put it aside.” He nodded to the other end of the hall, where the two brothers from Haniers stood diligently on either side of their sister.
The older one was watching her openly. “You might make a different alliance on this day, one more appealing than being sent to a convent.”
Though certainly there was an allure to evading Faydide’s company for the years ahead, this brother was the one who had chastised her at the board the night before.
“I have a husband,” she informed Mallory. “I do not have need of a second one, at least not so long as the first draws breath.” She turned away, intent upon ending this consultation.
“Careful, Isabella,” Mallory said, his tone prompting her to glance back toward him with concern. “All matters can be arranged, if necessary.”
“Do you threaten me, or my husband?” she demanded, but Mallory merely waved her away. Her father had appeared at the bottom of the stairs, and Mallory hastened to the older man’s side, bowing low and clearly attempting to win that man’s favor.
Surely, Mallory had no means to see Amaury dead.
Surely, he had no cause to pursue such a path.
Isabella shivered, glad for the first time that she had sent Amaury away. It was a relief to know that he was safe from all this scheming. Marnis was filled with peril, and she would be glad when its shadow was behind her as well.
Amaury was relieved beyond measure when the cask was opened again.
The space had been cramped and the ride uncomfortable, all the more so because he could not see what transpired around him.
He stood and stretched, noting that the cart had halted outside the kitchens of Marnis.
The casks containing the men were in the middle of the cart, hidden by the stacked casks of wine on either side.
The driver opened the cask containing Roland and the brothers shook hands heartily after Roland emerged.
Edmund’s cask was not opened, though that man made a protest from within. The cask wobbled in place as he strove to rock it, undoubtedly to draw their attention.
“Do you have a confession for me, Edmund?” Roland whispered, his lips close to the wood.
“I dare not!” Edmund squeaked. “You must have mercy…”
“Nay, there is no cause for mercy in this circumstance,” Amaury said.
“But you have need of my aid to find your way….”
“I shall have to manage without it.” Amaury turned and jumped from the wagon, Roland fast behind him.
“Quickly then, lads,” the driver said gruffly to them, as if they had ridden along to assist him. “I did not promise you good coin to stand about. Each and every one of these casks must be rolled into the hall with haste. The Lord de Marnis himself awaits a sip.”
“Aye,” Roland said and rolled a cask toward the kitchen.
“Aye,” Amaury agreed and did the same.
The driver was lifting casks down to the ground and exclaimed in frustration when they were but a dozen steps away.
“I bade you leave this one behind!” he said, then kicked the cask where Edmund was hidden.
“This empty one took up space for no good cause.” He flung out his hands.
“When will I ever find a man willing to work who heeds instruction? Not in this sorry world, to be certain!”
Amaury bit back a smile as he delivered the cask, then followed Roland back to the wagon.
He noticed that the ostler had stepped out of the stables and was conferring with a lavishly dressed man. They were some steps away but within earshot. Amaury listened as well as he could, even as he tipped another cask for Roland to roll it away.
“But my lord Mallory, I have not seen him,” the ostler protested. “No one has.”
“Someone should,” the other man argued, his mood evidently poor.
So, this was Isabella’s uncle. Amaury stole another glance.
“I had understood that Edmund had left Marnis for good,” the ostler said. Aye, this would be the fulsome ostler who had told Philip so much. If there were tidings in Marnis, he would know of them.
“He left, to be sure,” Mallory said. “But on an errand for me. I expected him back by this time.”
There was a muted cry from the sealed cask and Amaury exchanged a glance with the driver.
“I should move this one out of your way then,” the driver said. He seized the supposedly empty cask and dropped it from the back of the wagon, then rolled it with enthusiasm across the courtyard. Amaury felt sorry for Edmund in that moment, though there was no sound when the cask was stood upright.
“Ah!” the driver said with annoyance, then rolled it to its side and stood it on the other end.
Meanwhile, Mallory scowled at those gathered in the bailey, unaware that the man he sought was so close at hand.
Amaury and Roland made quick work of the delivery, though the driver berated them all the while. When they were done, they retrieved Edmund’s cask and lashed it to the wagon alone.
“Would you not pay your respects to the son of the house?” Amaury asked the driver. “It is his funeral today.”
“Aye, we should do as much. I will not pay you for the time, though.”
“I would not ask it of you,” Amaury said, bowing low. Roland followed his gesture, and when he straightened, his breath was stolen away.
For Isabella walked toward the chapel, chin high. She wore a simple dress of dark red, one that favored her perfectly and Amaury found himself staring outright at her.
His heart leapt in a most erratic way and he almost strode after her.
“Fool!” Roland said, driving an elbow into Amaury’s ribs. “You will gain naught by gaping at your betters.”
Amaury recovered himself, bowed and apologized, then followed the great company into the chapel. He was keenly aware of the driver’s curious gaze upon him, but more interested in Isabella’s proximity.
How could he steal her away with so many in attendance?
And if he tried, would she deign to accompany him?