Isabel had expected to find Brautus waiting for her in the hall, but he was no longer there. “He went upstairs, my lady,” Susannah said. “He told Hannah he was tired.”
“So am I,” Isabel admitted. “Is everyone settled? Is there room enough for everyone to sleep?” The hall had not been so crowded since before her father died.
“We will manage,” she said. “Most people brought their bedding with them.” She smiled, an impish gleam in her eye. “I see the gown did its work, by the way.”
“What do you mean?” Isabel asked, genuinely confused.
“Sir Simon kissed you,” she answered. “I saw it through the window of the solar, and so did Brautus and Tom.” Her grin widened. “I told you he wanted you.”
“Good night, Susannah.” She hurried for the stairs, her face burning scarlet, though she supposed she ought not to have been surprised. The steps leading up to the castle were hardly the most private spot for a tryst.
She made it to her room and slammed the door, heart pounding, and a voice spoke from behind her. “So that’s the end of it.”
“Brautus!” She whirled around to find him in a chair by the window, propped up on the pillows from her bed. “Are you in pain?” she said more calmly. “Shouldn’t you be lying down?”
“I don’t need a nursemaid.”
“Neither do I.” She went to the desk and sat down as if that had been her purpose all along. “Susannah said you saw me kissing Simon.”
“Nay, lass, I saw him kissing you.” He turned toward her with obvious effort, his face pale and shiny with sweat. “You were just letting him do it.”
“I’m sure I’ll do better next time.” She pulled the bundle of scrolls she’d brought up from her father’s study toward her and untied the ribbon. “You needn’t worry, Brautus. He made me promise to stay away from him from now on so I don’t distract him from his quest.”
“Sure he did,” the ancient knight said with a scowl. “What is it about a pretty face that turns a sensible woman into a fool?”
“I’m certain I don’t know.” She fingered the corner of the top scroll, touching the encoded notes her father had scribbled there. If he were here to see her, would he be scolding her as well?
“Isabel, what are you thinking?” he demanded. “Have you no thought for your father’s castle, for his people—”
“When have I ever thought of anything else?” The sheer injustice of the charge was enough to drive her mad. “Who was it who secured my father’s castle tonight? Who rode out to collect his people to make certain they were safe? Simon—”
“So you were just showing your gratitude?”
“What is it to you?” He blanched as if she had struck him, and hot shame bloomed in her cheeks. Brautus had risked his life time and again to protect her and her virtue; she should have died before she questioned his concern. But he didn’t understand; she didn’t even understand herself. “Susannah is right,” she said, looking away. “You’d put me in a convent if you could.”
“I would not!” he protested.
“Then why shouldn’t I—”
“Because I do not trust this man. And neither should you. If he were a proper nobleman of name, if anyone had ever heard tell of him, if he courted you openly as a man who deserves you, I would never say him nay.”
“He isn’t courting me at all,” she insisted. “The kiss you saw… it just happened. And it won’t happen again.”
“These things do not just happen, sweeting,” he retorted. “And they always happen again.”
“Brautus, what would you have me do?” she demanded. “We need him.”
“We do not—”
“We do.” She knelt on the floor at his feet and took one scarred and aged hand between her own. “I wanted to tell you before, but there was no time.” She told him all that she had seen at the Chapel of Saint Joseph and all that had been said, both there and between her and Simon. “He doesn’t believe Michel is coming,” she finished. “But he promised to defend Charmot if he does.”
“And you believe him.” He touched her cheek with sadness in his eyes.
“I do.” She wished she could make him understand the kinship she felt with Simon, stranger that he was, a connection deeper than the blood they shared. But she knew he would still think she was a fool, that this feeling was no more than another symptom of her foolishness. “And even if I didn’t, what better choice do I have? You spoke of my father’s castle and his people. How else can I protect them?” She clasped his hand more tightly. “I would do anything to save Charmot. Surely you must know that.”
He smiled just as sadly. “Aye, poppet, I do.” He caressed her hair with his free hand, then moved as if to stand.
“Here, let me help you.” She got up to support him.