Chattan Bride

Chapter 13 - Part 2

A servant came to the door minutes later and informed Isabel that Henry demanded her presence at the feast below. So she cleaned up and changed into one of her sister's dresses and descended with tear stained cheeks, wondering where her husband could possibly be. Why would he not return to her? Did he hate her for what she did? After catching a glimpse of Little Henry on the far side of the room playing roughly with some of the soldiers near the fire, she noticed Alysandir. There he was, feasting at the table with the rest of the drunken soldiers. She did not mistake the look of concern that flashed in his eyes, despite the heaviness of his brows and his tight mouth. She knew him better. Yet still he did not come to comfort her. He did not sit beside her but seemed to be carousing and even flirting with some of the women there.

Food was placed before her but Isabel just lowered her head into her palms and wept. Nay, she sobbed. Dylan looked to his liege lord who stayed him with one glance. No one heard her crying because it was so loud in the dining hall, but all could see her shoulders tremble and that her husband was alienating her. Alysandir counted on all seeing this. He needed all to believe that she had not been bedded, that he sought release of his passion elsewhere. His men were having a hard time complying with his orders because it was breaking Isabel's heart, and that they would never intentionally do. He was glad that Isabel did not see him pull some ugly wench onto his lap, but it was enough to show his men that he had a reason for his demands. So they stopped shifting and watching Isabel and went about the careful business of feasting with the enemy.

Taking her own advice was so difficult, Isabel realized. How many times had she told Gillian to stop crying before she gave herself a headache? And here she was weeping uncontrollably and her head was pounding. The noise of the hall only made things worse.

It was all very clear to Henry. Gilbert would be pleased when he found out how things were going at Bamborough. The heir was killed so that Gilbert could still carry out his plan to legitimately claim Bamborough and produce its heir. Henry drank until his blond beard was soaked in ale to drown the inner struggle the death of his second son caused him. He set his eyes on Isabel, finally tossed from her high horse and he was glad of it. Isabel and Alysandir couldn't be more estranged. The rage the Laird displayed against him for his treatment of his wife seemed hypocritical when he watched the interaction between the two tonight. At least he touched Gillian, Henry smirked watching Alysandir take hold of a wench that had pleased Henry more than once as well.

When Isabel could stand it no more, she stood and went outside and sought out a dark and lonely spot. Alysandir watched her leave from his peripheral and motioned for his men to create a distraction so he could get up and go to his Isa. John had been told to keep an eye on her every movement and protect her if need be while Alysandir spoke a few words to Annie who needed encouragement from her Laird.

"Please don't cry, Isa," Alysandir said lowly when he approached his wife who was crouched on the ground in the darkness.

She didn't obey.

He knelt beside her. "Annie told me you would probably have a headache. Do you?"

She nodded.

"Come then." He gathered her into his arms and offered her the remedy Annie provided. "You pleased me tonight. Well, you always do, wife. Do you know that?"

She shook her head and, to his bewilderment, sobbed even harder.

"I spoke with Gillian just a moment ago. She is doing well. I explained what I presume your plan is. Of course she protested a little wanting her baby near her, but I told her it was for the best at least for the present. It looks like your plan worked perfectly, nay, brilliantly." All of his compliments were doing no good and he couldn't understand why he couldn't soothe her. "What's wrong, love?"