Adelaide peeked into the room. Isabella’s heart squeezed painfully at the sight of her fourteen-year-old sister, thin as a reed, her wispy, sable hair in a careless braid down her back. She shuffled into the room and took a place beside Isabella, eyes on the floor.
“I’m glad you’re both here because this concerns both of you,” her mother said, looking between them. Isabella met her gaze steadily. She would not show weakness in front of this woman. “Lady Eleanor, in her infinite wisdom, has selected a husband for you, Isabella, and she has requested that Adelaide join her in Normandy, taking your place.”
Panic gripped Isabella. She was braced for the news about a prospective husband, but Adelaide’s summons to Normandy was a complete surprise. Isabella flicked her gaze toward her sister just in time to see Adelaide’s back go rigid. Her sister’s breathing rasped as she stared fixedly at the floor, eyes wide.
“What do you mean?” Isabella only barely managed to keep her voice even as she tried to match her mother’s cold nonchalance. The countess didn’t take kindly to displays of emotion.
“The man you overheard talking to your father last night? That was the Martin de Vere, Baron of Winchelsea. He arrived yesterday, bearing a signed and sealed letter from Lady Eleanor with her instructions. She wishes you to marry him.”
The news descended on Isabella with the force of a headsman’s axe. It was all she could do to remain standing, even though she was expecting such a blow. Adelaide’s eyes met hers for a split second, offering sympathy before she hurriedly looked back at the floor.
“Speechless with gratitude, I see.”
Truly, there were no words.
“Little Mouse, get out my brown wool gown with the gold-trimmed sleeves.” Adelaide hurried to the chest with her mother’s dresses and laid out the requested gown, then squeezed herself into a corner of the room as if trying to disappear.
“Little Bird, finish my hair then return to your chambers and put on your best gown. You marry at noon.”
Noon? Of this very day? She needed more time to undo this, but it seemed her mother and her monarch had already thought of that.
“I’m not marrying Lord Martin, and Adelaide is absolutely not going to Normandy.” Lady Eleanor and her mother had out-maneuvered her quite neatly, but they both underestimated her if they thought she would accept this unchallenged.
“Don’t be ridiculous, girl. Your future queen has asked you to do your duty. I know you know better than to risk Lady Eleanor’s wrath.”
It was true. Isabella had seen what happened to women who tried to cross the once and future queen. She still remembered when Lady Collette was caught spreading the rumor that Queen Eleanor had slept with her uncle. Her Majesty retaliated by producing a fabricated marriage certificate as proof that Lady Collette had secretly married a goatherd before she wedded Lord Etienne. The queen sent it to the Pope, and Lady Collette’s marriage was annulled, leaving the unlucky lady utterly humiliated and in poverty. Perhaps Isabella should count herself lucky that she was only being married off to a baron.
“There must be a way to undo this. What if I propose a better match that is more advantageous to Lady Eleanor and bring Adelaide with me?” It was worth a try. At least it would buy some time.
Her mother laughed. “You presume to know better than Her Grace? Her orders were quite clear. I have her letter right here. And frankly, you should be grateful. Men don’t like tall women. As for your sister, she’ll do as she’s told, just as she always has. She’ll travel with you as far as Winchelsea, and then you will put her on a ship to France.”
Adelaide turned a wide-eyed, panicked gaze on Isabella, who tried to convey as much silent reassurance as she could manage.
But Isabella herself was anything but calm. Adelaide would never survive the journey, let alone serving the Duchess of Normandy. There had to be a way to save her sister. But a mere baron would be of no help when it came to defying Lady Eleanor, especially if he came to Bamburgh Castle at the duchess’s bidding. Isabella needed to marry someone powerful who could stand his ground.
Her mother pulled a scroll of parchment from her desk drawer and handed it to Isabella. “See for yourself if you don’t believe me.”
Taking the document, Isabella fought the urge to throw it into the fire. But destroying it wouldn’t change its contents. Her and Adelaide’s futures were laid out in plain Latin, and there was no mistaking the signature at the end. Adelaide scurried to her side and peeked at it with her. What were they going to do now?
“Seethe all you like, but finish brushing my hair while you do it,” her mother ordered.
“No. I’m not your lady’s maid.” Isabella was altogether too angry to keep doing her mother’s bidding.
The countess grabbed her hand, digging in her nails. “You’ll do as you’re told, Little Bird.”
Lips pursed, Isabella relented, soothing the skin where her mother had left red marks. Her fingers went through the motions without any input from her mind, which spun frantically seeking a loophole. All the while, she kept casting glances at Adelaide, who had somehow grown even more pale than her natural state.
“I’m finished,” Isabella said as she jabbed the final hairpin in place with a little bit too much force.
“Ouch!” Her mother gave her a dirty look and adjusted the pin. “Impudent girl. I can see your temper is as fierce as it always was. I can only hope your husband knows how to tame you. Lord knows I’ve failed. You are dismissed. And you too, Little Mouse.”
With a perfunctory curtsy, Isabella turned to go, putting a protective arm around her sister and leading her out.
“Little Bird,” her mother said in a sing-song voice just as they reached the door, forcing them to pause. “Don’t think you can get out of this. I can practically see the wheels turning in that devious mind of yours. The duchess has declared you will marry, and you shall. She needs someone she can trust in Winchelsea.It’s an important port, only a stone’s throw from Hastings, and the baron has sway with the Cinque Ports.”
While the Cinque Ports were a critical link to the continent and had high strategic importance, marrying a complete stranger of low rank from a town she’d never heard of solved none of her problems and left Adelaide at Lady Eleanor’s mercy.
“It is wise of her to take steps to ensure her control over the Cinque Ports,” Isabella said in as even a voice as she could manage, knowing she’d gone too far by jabbing that pin. “And I am always happy to serve Her Grace in any way I can. But why now? Truly, she honors us too much with her thoughtfulness.”
