Lindsay Townsend by Mistress Angel

Author:Mistress Angel [Angel, Mistress]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Author
Published: 2013-09-10T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

“I must come with you. Yes, Duke Henry has summoned you, Ste, but this concerns me and mine.”

“Ste” was Isabella’s new nickname for him. Stephen was not sure if he liked it and he certainly disapproved of her idea of flitting with him to the Savoy. He drummed his fingers on his belt and looked down his nose at her. A few days ago, his maddening little wench would have argued or paled when he glowered. Now she merely tapped her foot. A pretty foot, clad in a new boot, but then she was pretty altogether and regaining weight.

“And Matthew?” Surely mentioning her son will stop this mad idea.

Isabella took a deep breath, as if to blow away the eddying breeze that plucked at her skirts and hair. “Amice and Thomas are walking back to her shop today. Matthew and Joanna are desperate to go with them. Please, Stephen, the children are going wild, cooped up like doves in a cote. Let them go out with them. And let me come with you.”

She was hard to resist when she pleaded but he tried. “What if this whole matter goes against me?”

The instant he spoke he knew he had made a mistake. Isabella pounced on it at once. “Then you must not go, either.”

He snorted. “One does not ignore a duke.”

“As your betrothed I should be with you, to support you, Ste.”

No, I do not like Ste as a pet name, but that will keep. This could be life and death. “There may be a trial by ordeal.” He planned to wear chain mail and take his weapons, ready to fight.

Isabella straightened and tilted up her chin, trying to make herself look taller. The rising wind howled behind her as she declared, “I should be the one to undergo it. I heard of the seals. I told you of them. If your duke requires witnesses then he will need to question me.”

“No, I want you safe.” He rubbed the tight muscles at the back of his neck, wishing the weather would whip into a roaring gale, to keep her at home. “Sir William and his kin may be there.”

“I would like to face them. I would like to win over them, just once.”

A score for her and a natural desire but, staring at his determined, breeze-blown angel, Stephen felt an ashy despair. “I could not bear the thought of you or Matt at risk, Isabella. It would hamper me.”

Now she did pale. “I had not considered that. I am sorry.” She looked away from him to the pink dawn seeping round the roof-tops and scratched at her hand, a trick she did when nervous.

“Why can Isabella not go with you?” His sister stepped into the courtyard and closed on them rapidly. “Has she not spent enough time waiting on others?”

Isabella blushed a deep rose but Bedelia was far from finished. “Those wretched Martintons are not God. Duke Henry has more sense than to give them victory. Take her with you to the Savoy, Stevie.

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