Borderland Bride (5 page)

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Authors: Samantha Holt

Tags: #Medieval Romance, #Historical Romance, #Romance, #Love Story, #Borders, #Scottish Borders, #Lowlanders

BOOK: Borderland Bride
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Isabel motioned anxiously to the chair at her bedside and he hurriedly sat down. They sat in silence for a moment and Jake fought the temptation to excuse himself, clenching his sweaty palms together. What had he expected from visiting her? That they would have a pleasant conversation? He should have just come to see she was well and then left. He doubted she wanted some awkward giant hovering around her.

He looked over at the half-empty bowl sat on the window ledge. “You have eaten?”

A little
, she indicated with her fingers.

He nodded, a slight breath escaping his lips.

Thank you
, she mouthed,
thank you for saving my life
.

“‘Twas my pleasure. I am only sorry I did not arrive in time to prevent you from experiencing such horror.”

She watched his mouth carefully. Was he was speaking slowly enough? She responded with a slight smile and he decided he was.

You have done enough
. She plucked at her silk robe.
Whose are these? I would thank the lady they came from.

“They belonged to my mother. She was taken by the plague.”

Isabel’s eyes dimmed. She was likely too young to remember the plague, being mayhap twenty at most. His stomach clenched as he recalled the devastation it had wrought. At the tender age of ten, he had been just able to comprehend the horror and it remained with him, even now. They would never forget the fear and uncertainty they had all suffered as entire families succumbed to it.

Not your wife?

A flash of anger surged through him at her words. His wife. Oh, how she had destroyed him. In spite of nearly nine summers passing, her lies and betrayal still lingered with him. If events had happened her way, he would now be lying next to his mother and stepfather. At times he suspected that might have been preferable to the numb existence that was his life at present.

“Nay, I have no wife.”

He observed her closely. Was there a flicker of relief? He could not imagine a woman like Isabel should care if he had a wife or not. Surely a beauty like her had a husband somewhere. If he were her husband, he would never let her out of his sight, let alone allow her to endanger herself by navigating the dangerous woods of the borderlands.

“Have you a husband?”

Her expression shuttered. Why should his question provoke such a response? Mayhap she had suffered hurt too. She shook her head vigorously.

“You must have someone who cares for you? Who would wish to know you are safe?”

Isabel shook her head again, her chin jutting forward as she clamped her mouth shut.

He sighed and realised he would get no more from her. Mayhap she too was widowed and had no family left. It was possible, he supposed, but he could not believe there was no one who cared for her. Hopefully she would regain her voice and they could learn where this mysterious woman had come from.

Isabel‘s eyes darted around the room.
Where…?
Jake could just make out.

He paused to take in the sight of her delicate frame propped up in his bed. “These are my chambers, lass.”

She shook her head and indicated out of the window.

“Thornewall. On the Scottish border. ‘Tis my brother’s demesne.”

Recognition sparked in Isabel’s expression as she nodded. It did not surprise Jake that she recognised the name. Thornewall was one of the most powerful demesnes in Northumbria.

Your brother is lord?

“Aye.” He smiled as he discerned her confusion. Jake was well used to people questioning their kinship, they were little alike. “Half-brother,” he added. “Twas my stepfather’s land.”

And your land?

“‘Tis to the west.” Jake pointed westwards. “Hard on the border.”

Isabel tilted her head and studied him. She could not hear the wistfulness in his voice but mayhap it revealed itself in his expression. His lands were dear to him. They were all he had left of his father.

Tell me.

Jake laughed inwardly. With less than a whisper, she was commanding him. Lord help him when her voice returned.
If
her voice returned.

Ack, he could not help himself. Isabel had an uncanny hold over him.

He settled on the wooden chair, shifting as the wood creaked under his weight. The first thing he would do on the morrow was burn this damn chair and have a new one installed in his chambers. Jake suspected he would come to spend much time in this room over the coming days.

“Greycroft is in the hills,” he told her slowly. “‘Tis no grand keep like this one, but ‘tis comfortable and the people are kind. We see naught of the border reivers, as it is of little import.”

Isabel nodded, though Jake doubted she understood his every word. A tantalising smile slid across her bruised face as she studied the movement of his lips and he wondered if she took pleasure in his company. He certainly took pleasure in hers. Mayhap a little too much.

“‘Tis rugged and wild, but beautiful,” Jake continued. “I’ve yet to see anywhere that can rival it.”

You wish to return?

“I do not mind aiding my brother in his duties. Dominic has many burdens to bear and I gladly help where I can, but, aye, I miss Greycroft.”

Greycroft
, she repeated.

“‘Tis the name of my lands.”

I like it
, Isabel told him as firmly as someone with no voice could.

Jake chuckled at her determined expression. Her eyes wrinkled in amusement but her levity quickly gave way to a yawn.

Ack, but he was tiring the poor lass.

Jake stood abruptly. “Forgive me, you should be resting. Winnie will have my head if I tire you out.”

Her slender hand stretched towards him and Jake remembered how she had looked the day before, vulnerable and fragile. The twinkle in Isabel’s eye lifted the tension from his muscles and he took her hand. Impulsively, he lifted her fingers to his mouth and touched his lips to her knuckles.

Even under her bruises, Jake could see her freckles darken as she flushed. He released her hand with a cough, drawing away from her bedside. What had possessed him to act with such impropriety?

On the morrow?

He released a breath. “Aye, I’ll return to you on the morrow.”

Jake’s legs weakened at Isabel’s answering grin. Lord, with a battered face she was still radiant. He turned quickly and hauled open the door. Mayhap she had not noticed his reaction to her. Closing the door behind him, Jake stared at the wood for a moment. The morrow seemed like a lifetime away.

 

Chapter Three

 

Vibrations reverberated in Isabel’s ears, drawing her from a restless slumber. In truth, it was her fault. She had refused to take any more of that vile poppy tonic. It was enough that she was next to useless; she didn’t need a groggy head too. However, she had not realised how much it eased her aches and she struggled to sleep without it.

Peeling open her eyes, she strained to focus on the stout creature busying herself in one corner. The room was bright and Isabel suspected it was closer to the midday meal than the morning one. She could just discern the bleary outline of Winnie folding some clothes. Isabel struggled to sitting as her side stabbed at her, reminding her of her broken rib. Lord, she couldn’t bear this much longer.

Isabel’s ears still buzzed, but were mercifully painless. If she could but hear. Remaining speechless didn’t seem as bad as being entirely ignorant to the world.

Ha, her father would never believe she would choose to lose her voice over her hearing! The sound that haunted her hearing threw her off balance and brought on occasional bouts of nausea. Isabel clenched her jaw as her head swam. Curse her weak body.

Winnie’s face came into focus as she neared the bed, proffering a damp cloth. The maid dabbed carefully over her brow, the cool linen serving to clear her head. Isabel snatched the cloth from her hand and her throat creaked in an attempt at a growl as she cleaned her face. Winnie showed no surprise, instead offering her a tender smile and a pat on the arm.

Feeling the heat rising in her face, she clamped her mouth shut. Isabel laughed inwardly. Much good it may do her, it was not as if she could shout at the maid anyway. If she stayed in this room long enough, mayhap her voice would return just so she could. She was caged, trapped by her feeble body and the administrations of the overly sympathetic maids. Even her mother would not have let her get away with such discourteous behaviour, God rest her soul.

The bed dipped significantly as Winnie placed her weight next to her and urged her to sit forward so she could fix her hair. Drawing out some gold ribbons, the woman looked at her expectantly, awaiting some sign of delight at the beautiful silk. Isabel snorted to herself. It would take more than ribbons to lure her out of her ill mood.

Isabel didn’t miss the slight shake of the maid’s head as she set about arranging her hair. Winnie twisted and coiled it around her head, plaiting it in a style befitting a noble woman, but Isabel preferred her hair down. Finally, Winnie aided her in slipping on a golden gown. Ridiculous! Why should she wear a fine gown when all she did was sit in her room all day? But Isabel did nothing to protest. It was likely Jake may visit her, and mayhap Dominic, so she knew she had to be presentable.

Jake had kept to his word and visited her every day that sennight. It was the one thing she looked forward to. He gradually relaxed around her, and she thought he drew pleasure from her company. Lord knows, she certainly enjoyed his.

A pungent smell pervaded the air and Isabel shuddered. Winnie brought over a cup and held it out to her. Isabel crossed her arms. She would not allow that loathsome tonic to weaken her again. The pain she could bear, but confusing thoughts she could not.

Winnie’s face took on a stern look, startling Isabel. Good. It was about time someone looked at her with something other than pity. She still refused to take the draught though.

Isabel turned her head, only to find the woman scurrying around the other side of her bead, beaker in hand. Isabel shook her head defiantly.

Come now, milady.

Nay.

Winnie pushed the cup towards her hand.
‘Tis for yer own good.

Nay
. Isabel could feel her face heating again and her jaw jutted forward.

Undeterred, Winnie pressed the edge of the cup to her lips.

An odd rumble strained from Isabel’s throat and she swiped at the cup with one swift movement. The door opened as the beaker flew past Winnie’s wide eyes and Jake ducked at it sailed over his head, crashing against the doorframe and spilling its contents on the wooden floor.

Jake jerked his head towards Isabel and raised his eyebrow as she flushed and gaped at him. Sweet Mary, what had she done? Curse her temper.

Winnie eased herself tentatively off the bed, giving Isabel a gentle pat and filling her with guilt. Did the woman have to be so forgiving?

The maid retreated through the door, her eyes darting between Isabel and Jake as she pushed carefully past him. Isabel could not meet his eyes. Tears burnt in the back of her throat and she rolled onto her side, curling herself up. He was still there. She could sense him, his huge frame looming over her. Mayhap he would be angry with her for abusing their hospitality. She wished he would be. It was no more than she deserved.

A silent sob welled in her throat and she couldn’t hold it back. Her shoulders shook gently as the tears escaped but still he stood there. Would he not just leave her? What an ungrateful fool she was.

His woodsy scent worked through her tears and she tensed as the bed ropes strained beneath her. Jake pushed his hand under the crook of her knees and her shoulders. Isabel opened her mouth to squeal as she found herself rolled into Jake’s arms. He lifted her with a gentleness that seemed so at odds with his broad chest.

Hanging across his arms, she found herself curling her hands around his neck and her heart jolted as her fingers connected with his soft curls and warm skin. Where was he taking her? Mayhap he would take her to Dominic to hold her accountable for her behaviour. As he angled her so they could fit through the narrow door, Isabel pressed her hand to his jaw, forcing him to look at her.

There was no anger in his warm eyes and Isabel released a breath.
Forgive my temper.

Jake’s lips stretched into a dry grin.
Lass, you’re not the only one with a temper.

You?

He nodded before beginning the precarious journey down the winding stairwell. It wound tightly, leaving little room for error but Jake’s hold never wavered, his steps never faltered, and Isabel’s trust never waned.

How fickle she was. Her body warmed as she luxuriated in wrapping herself around Jake’s chest. She could feel his muscles undulating as he moved, rubbing at her through the cloth of his tunic. One moment she was bemoaning her lack of independence and the next she was wishing she could spend the rest of her days carted around like this.

Isabel lowered her eyes as they crossed the courtyard. Eyes flicked towards them and she fought the urge to burrow deeper into Jake’s hold. This was not the first time she had passed through Thornewall Keep in Jake’s arms and she hoped it would not be the last. She brought her gaze up. She had nothing to be ashamed of and before long she would walk across this courtyard on her own two feet, head held high.

And, God willing, with all her senses.

Jake paused at the steps to the entrance of the hall and offered her a tentative smile. Her heart bloomed as it soothed her apprehension. Isabel enjoyed his proximity so much that it was only as she stared at the expansive length of the inner keep, did she perceive the flutter in her stomach.

The scent of roasted meats and heavily spiced foods lingered in the air as they entered the Great Hall. The room glowed with candlelight and the flicker of the fire offered instant comfort. Isabel could sense the chatter stop as she and Jake entered, and her skin prickled under the attention. Even her pride could not spare her embarrassment.

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