The Baron's Bounty (15 page)

Chapter 16

Isobel had changed her shoes three times already that day, and still Conlin hadn’t even noticed. He’d commented on her gown, but yet he hadn’t said anything about her shoes. Of course, his eyes never left her face or went lower than her waist. She’d seen him watching her when she’d bent over earlier today, and even when she’d walked through the courtyard with Rose on their way to look at her flower garden.

The main meal was just finishing up, and Isobel felt relaxed and happy sitting at Conlin’s side. Rose sat next to her, chatting away about the babies and how much she already missed them since Muriel and Nicholas had taken them back to New Romney.

“Father, Muriel asked Isobel to come to New Romney,” said Rose, eating sweet meat as she spoke. “She also said she wants to make a gown for Isobel out of her Scottish plaid. When she goes to visit them, can we go with her? I want to play with the twins again.”

Conlin looked over in surprise, his mouth open as he had just been preparing to take a bite of his poached pears that were smothered in a red wine, cinnamon, ginger and saffron sauce. His eyes met Isobel’s in question, and she just smiled and nodded for him to answer his daughter.

“Of course, Rose. That would be fine.”

The mime came up to the table to entertain them during the meal by pretending to pull things out from behind their ears. He did it to Rose, showing her an egg he found behind her ear and she laughed. Then when she tried to take it, he pretended to put it in his mouth and swallow it, making a face. All this was done in silence. She squealed in laughter. Several of the children of the knights ran up, jumping in the air, laughing and trying to grab the dove he pulled out of thin air next.

“May I be excused, Father? I’d like to play with the other children.” Rose’s eyes were wide with excitement, and she held a childlike innocence about her.

Conlin eyed Rose’s trencher. Her braised boar and steamed leeks were barely touched. Isobel saw the look on his face and knew when he opened his mouth to speak that he was going to tell the girl to finish eating first.

“Rose you need to . . .”

Isobel coughed, and shot him a look, and shook her head. Then she motioned with her eyes to the other children having fun.

“Of course, sweetheart. Go . . . play with your . . . friends.”

He looked at Isobel and she smiled and nodded her approval of how he handled the situation.

The girl ran off, and the music started up in the gallery. The servants rushed around collecting the last of the trenchers off the trestle tables, throwing one or two to the castle hounds in the process. The rest would be given to the beggars outside the castle’s gate.

Then they proceeded to take down the long trestle tables that spanned the entire length of the room. Everyone prepared to make merry, dance, and drink wine and ale as usual after the last meal of the day.

“Thank you.”

Isobel looked up from her goblet of wine to realize he was talking to her.

“Fer what?” She took another sip of wine.

“For helping me – with Rose. It has been so long that I . . . I’m not sure how to talk to her anymore.”

“The important thing is, she did talk te ye today.”

“Aye.” He grabbed the goblet she offered and took a drink as well. “I suppose I have been treating her too much like a child.”

“Ye have.” She took the goblet back again and chugged the rest of the wine. If she were going to have to sleep with Conlin again and do nothing but hold each other, she would need to be in her cups enough that she’d fall asleep immediately or she’d want to do so much more. She almost regretted suggesting they shouldn’t do anything but sleep together, because it was driving her mad.

He’d been so careful not to touch her in intimate places, and she’d watched him while he slept, aching to have him inside her again. She either wished Catherine would show up soon, or never at all. That way, she’d either leave or have him to herself, and then she would not be tormented anymore.

“I have thought about what you said, and I’ve decided I should foster Rose out to another lord and lady. Perhaps she would like that, since it is the right thing to do.”

“Nay.” She shook her head.

“Nay?” He looked up, confused. “Why not? Isn’t that what you suggested?”

“Mayhap no’ yet. She’s jest startin’ te warm up te ye, and ye two have too much te fix between ye afore ye send her away.”

He let out a breath of frustration. “Then what do you suggest?”

“I think ye need te spend time with yer daughter.”

“Nay.” Now it was his turn to shoot down her idea.

“Nay?” She didn’t understand. “Why wouldna ye want te spend time with Rose?”

He took the cup and held it out to be filled by the cupbearer. “I have much to do and am needed on the docks. I have my men to train for battle, and need to be prepared should King Edward need our services as soon as he returns from France.”

“Ye have Shadwell and yer steward and knights te help ye. Stop tryin’ te do e’erythin’ yerself and ye’ll have plenty o’ time fer Rose.”

He took a deep draw of wine and then put down the goblet and ran his finger around the rim in thought. “That’s what Skena always told me too.”

She could see he was starting to become melancholy and she didn’t want to see him think about his dead wife right now. It was selfish of her she supposed, but she wanted him to think about her instead.

“Mayhap the three o’ us could go on an outin’ together. I heard some o’ the nobles talkin’ aboot Canterbury Cathedral, and I’ve ne’er seen it. Mayhap we could go there.”

“Canterbury?” He looked up in surprise. “That is not a trip we can make in a day. We’d have to stay overnight.”

“Then we’ll do it. I’m sure ye ken some o’ the nobles along the way thet would put us up fer the night.”

“Well, I do . . . but I’m not sure . . .”

“Ah, ye are worried o’ yer reputation since I am only yer proxy.”

“I didn’t say that. I am just thinking about my daughter.”

“We sleep together now, yet Rose thinks naught o’ it.”

“I don’t know if she does or not. I’ve never asked her.”

“I see.” She played with the crumbs on the table, dragging her finger in small circles atop the white linen table covering.

“Actually, Rose always wanted to sleep outside at night. With a campfire the way my knights and I do on the hunting trips.”

“She’s ne’er slept on the earth?”

“Nay. I haven’t let her.”

“Then why dinna we do thet instead? It’ll solve yer problem o’ bein’ embarrassed havin’ me along.”

“I’m not embarrassed of you, Izzy,” he said softly, reaching out and taking her hand in his under the table. “I’m just confused. I’ve never had a – a proxy before. I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to do.”

“Then we’ll figure it out together. Are we goin’ te Canterbury with Rose or no’?”

His eyes traveled over to his daughter running around with the other children, laughing and having fun. She saw his jaw twitch at first and knew he was doing all he could not to shout out for her to conduct herself like a noble. But he didn’t. He let her have fun. Then she saw sadness in his eyes and figured he was thinking about his dead wife again. He nodded slowly and answered while still staring at Rose.

“Aye, we’ll go to Canterbury at the end of the week. This time it’ll be happy instead of what we experienced last time we took the trip.”

“Wonderful!” She got to her feet. “I’ll tell Rose right away.”

“Nay,” he said, standing up abruptly. “That can wait, because right now I’d like a dance with you.”

Isobel’s eyes grew wide and darted from side to side looking at the knights and nobles who were watching them like one of Conlin’s hunting hawks. She also noticed that Shadwell had been staring at her ever since he’d gotten back from Scotland. She didn’t like to be the center of attention, but she wanted more than anything to dance with Conlin.

“Are ye sure it is proper fer a lord and a . . . proxy te dance?”

“I never got my wedding dance with you the night we were married.”

“Ye mean – the night ye were married te Catherine,” she corrected him.

“Aye,” he said, his face becoming stone-like at the thought. “Will you dance with me, my lady?” He held out his hand and bowed slightly as he waited for her reply.

She looked across the room to see Toft and Sir Jackson watching them, saying something to each other. Then she saw the servants gathering and looking at them as well. She’d caused quite a stir and given wagging tongues something to talk about ever since she arrived in Sandwich. But then again, she didn’t really care.

“I’d love te dance with ye, me lord.” She put her hand atop his arm and they made their way down the stairs of the dais and out to the dance floor. The musicians saw them coming and started up music for a dance that she knew was favored by the nobles. Isobel had seen it done before but wasn’t quite sure of all the steps.

“I dinna think I ken this dance, me lord,” she told him. “I’m no’ sure it’s the same as we dance in Scotland.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you and you won’t miss a step.”

With one arm around her waist and the other on her hand, they strolled with elegance out to the middle of the floor. He guided her with the steps and before long she felt as if their motions were one. He spun her around and she laughed, holding onto him when she became so dizzy that she thought she’d fall. She put her hands on his shoulders and stared into his eyes. She wanted more than anything to kiss him right now and she knew he felt it to. He bent forward and his mouth came near but she quickly looked downward and stepped away when she saw Rose standing across the room watching them intently.

“Rose, come here,” she called, and the girl did as told.

“Isobel, why are you calling her over?” Conlin was still staring at her mouth.

“Becooz, ye should dance with yer daughter.”

“Nay.” He shook his head. “She’s just a child.”

“She’s twelve, and far from a child. She’s a young lassie now and ye need to acknowledge it.”

Rose walked up and Isobel pulled her closer. “Rose, yer faither would like te dance with ye.”

“He would?” Her big blue eyes looked upward to her father’s face.

Conlin just watched as Isobel controlled him just like that puppet on a string she’d spoken of the other day. She wanted him to dance with his daughter, but he couldn’t. He knew Rose wouldn’t want him to touch her. She’d probably have a tantrum now and cause a scene. Why couldn’t Isobel just mind her own business?

“I don’t think my daughter wants to dance.” He was turning away when he heard her soft voice answer.

“I would like it very much, Father.”

He froze, and turned back slowly, thinking he had heard her wrong. That is, until he saw the big smile on Isobel’s face, and the way she pushed the little girl toward him.

He hesitated, not sure what to do. Then slowly he held out his hand and bowed to Rose. “May I have this dance, my lady?” He could only pray she wouldn’t turn him down now. It would be quite embarrassing with half the castle’s occupants watching him.

“Her hand reached out just as slowly, and rested atop his. He was careful not to do anything to make her pull away. They danced together, and it felt wonderful. She knew all the steps and held her head high and her back straight, and seemed to turn from a child into a young lady in a matter of minutes.

“I didn’t think you’d agree to dance with me.” He spoke without looking at her, keeping his eyes on everything else going on in the Great Hall.

“You never asked before.” She didn’t look at him either. They turned and twirled and bowed and curtsied to their corners as the dance required.

“Rose, I’m sorry about treating you like a child.”

“I am nearly an adult, and it’s time you realize it.”

“You’re right.” He nodded his head, feeling a knot forming in his throat.

“I’d like to be treated like an adult – like the rest of the noble girls my age.”

“Then we’ll do that.” It was all he could manage to say. He felt nervous for some reason, until he looked over and saw Isobel smiling at them. Rose noticed too.

“I like Isobel, Father. I wish you were really married to her.”

“You do?” It came out a little louder than he’d intended.

“I do. I like her a lot. She makes me laugh. Do you like her too?”

“Do I like her?” He looked over to Isobel and couldn’t stop thinking how much he liked her. It was starting to feel like more than just a fondness, and it scared him. He didn’t know what to do about it, or what he could possibly do in this case. He had to let his daughter know that Isobel was just there temporarily. “Of course I like her,” he said. “But you do realize that she will be leaving as soon as Lady Catherine arrives.”

“I don’t want you to be married to the Shrew of the Scots, Father. I want you to be married to Isobel instead.”

He stopped dancing and took his daughter by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Rose, you will not call the Lady Catherine by that derogative name again.”