Adelaide nodded and sniffed. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You are honest and innocent, and I pray that never changes.” Isabella dropped her hands from the loom and reached out to squeeze her sister’s arm.
“Have you met your husband yet?” Adelaide asked, blinking back a new round of tears.
“Yes,” Isabella answered with a frown. “I met Lord Martin this morning.”
Adelaide put down the lute, leaning it against the wall, and pulled a high-backed chair over beside her sister, putting a gentle hand on Isabella’s that almost broke her. “What’s he like?”
Isabella closed her eyes and pulled away, willing herself to stay calm. It was too much that her sister was worrying about her when she should be worrying about herself. And what could she possibly reveal about Lord Martin without offending her sister’s ears?
The man was a coxcomb and not to be trusted. She didn’t like the mischievous twinkle in his chestnut eyes or the way his dark brows arched in amusement. But when his red lips curved into that arrogant smile of his, something within her seized up. It must have been from revulsion. That was the only reasonable explanation.
Why did Lady Eleanor pair her with someone so unsuitable? This eager popinjay was not someone Isabella could tolerate, regardless of his sharp wit or his generous offer. It must be a punishment of some sort from Her Grace.
“He’s an ass,” she blurted, then covered her mouth.
And he didn’t care a whit when she insulted him, which was strangely alluring.No, no.It wouldn’t do to start thinking of Lord Martin as alluring in any way.
Adelaide cracked a smile at her slip. “That’s all you have to say about him? That’s rather uncreative, coming from you.”
No, she could say a great deal more, but it was easier to fixate on that than on his enervating appeal, which she had no desire to acknowledge aloud.
“He’s an irritatingly optimistic baron from a town of no importance with an exasperating sense of humor. And if Lady Eleanor sent him, he is not to be trusted. My bridegroom is merely the final insult in this steaming heap of humiliation.”
Her sister’s smile broadened. “You protest too much. I’m starting to think you like him.”
“What? No. Impossible. How could I like a man whose attentions are intended to mortify me? If there was any justice in the world, Lady Eleanor would have recognized my worth and matched me with a husband suitable to my rank and years of loyal service. But no. She’s discarding me like yesterday’s table scraps, despite my efforts in her name.”
Unable to sit still, Isabella stood and started pacing. “Didn’t I help her collect the dirty details she needed to persuade King Louis to annul their marriage? Didn’t I risk life and limb fleeing with her to Aquitaine as kidnappers pursued her? Didn’t I braid flowers into her hair the day she married the Duke of Normandy in secret? In what way have I failed her to deserve such a fate?”
Adelaide shrugged in sympathy. “Have you considered the possibility that this isn’t a punishment? Perhaps Lady Eleanorthought you and he would suit. And maybe she thinks you’ll be safer in the days to come if you’re with a backwater baron than with one of her prominent vassals. There is a war on, after all.”
Isabella squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fists. “Have you ever known Lady Eleanor to do something kind and considerate? You know the woman has no heart. If only I were more like her.”
If only Isabella could quash all her inconvenient emotions and follow Lady Eleanor’s example! With her cold, calculating mind, she’d find a way out of this fix in no time.
“I only know what you tell me about her,” Adelaide answered. “You make her sound just like Mother.” She picked up her lute and started tuning it.
Isabella shook her head. “Mother is merely mean. Lady Eleanor is diabolical. And why shouldn’t she be? Look where it’s gotten her. She was queen of France, and any day now, she’s going to be queen of England.”
“Yes, but she doesn’t sound like a very happy person.” Adelaide plucked a few tentative chords.
“Nobody’s happy in this world. The best we can hope for is to marry a man of position who protects us and our loved ones from harm.”
Adelaide gave her a level look. “Nowyousound like Mother.”
That stung, but she could hardly tell Adelaide her true motivation. It wouldn’t do to burden her narrow shoulders with the weight of it. “I’m sorry. It seems I’ve grown cynical over the years. You shouldn’t listen to a word I say, sweeting. You’re far too good for this world.”
Her sister put down her lute and came over to Isabella, opening her arms for a hug.
It was embarrassing how badly Isabella needed that hug. Surrendering her dignity, she stood up and embraced her sister.Adelaide felt so small and fragile in her arms. Isabella was almost afraid she was going to break her.
“I’m so sorry this is happening,” Adelaide murmured in her ear.
Something inside Isabella broke at those words, and she began sobbing uncontrollably against her sister’s boney shoulder.
“There, there,” Adelaide said in a soothing singsong. “It’s going to be all right. You are strong and clever, and underneath all your prickliness and sharp wit, I know you have a loving heart. Together, we’ll find a way through this.”
