“Yes, I know. You are over a week late,” Brant said as he dismounted, then lifted her down. Leading her to a grassy area along the road, he continued, “What is it now, nine, ten days?”
Brant sat down on the ground, pulling her down beside him.
With a wicked grin, he continued, “It reminds me of that green gown, you wore for our wedding. Wearing green for your wedding, is supposed to be a prayer for fertility, is it not? It appears your prayers have been answered.”
“You are insufferable,” she cried, trying to push him away.
Brant pulled her close against him, and said, “Speaking of our wedding, I believe I have changed my mind. I believe I do, want to seal the bargain with a kiss.”
He grasped the back of her head, to hold her immobile, and gave her a long slow kiss, that drained all desire to resist him, from her body.
Isabel had no idea why he was talking about their wedding, but she was definitely wishing, he had stood by his declaration that ‘he would not bed the child’. What was intended as a short term arrangement, for the benefit of both of them, had become very complicated. There was no way to undo it, without someone, most likely her, being hurt quite badly. While these thoughts ran through her mind, she absently watched John return with her horse. Without speaking, Brant rose and helped her up. They walked silently to the horses, to return to the Castle. The ride back was equally quiet, with both the Lord, and the Lady, lost in their own private thoughts.
Upon arriving back at the Castle, they were informed that Robert had arrived for a visit, also. Isabel was in no mood to deal with her mother, so Brant walked her up the back stairs to the Solar, avoiding the hall. When he descended alone, a short while later, Nathaniel was crying so he instructed Rosamund to take the child up to Isabel, before greeting Robert.
“Good day, mon ami,” Robert said, jovially. “Richard demanded that I joined him here, to talk some sense in to you, he said. I already told him, that we did strongly encourage you to marry Isabel. So, if you want to keep her, you have every right.”
Then, Robert grinned broadly at Richard.
“Why has my daughter not come down? I want to see her,” Ann demanded, changing the subject.
“I am sure you will see her, later. Isabel is rather upset right now, with both of us, I think,” Brant said.
“What have I done?” Ann demanded.
“She is upset with you, because you seem to think if you can get rid of Nathaniel, and I, you will have your little girl back. I believe, she does not think that it is such an easy prospect, to just forget her child,” Brant responded.
Brushing Brant’s words aside, Ann asked, “Why is she upset with you?”
“While it is still early to be sure, Isabel is likely in a delicate condition, again, among other sins. You know, like not letting her gallop off on her horse at a dangerous pace, this afternoon,” Brant said.
“You are not wasting any time, are you?” Robert asked, laughing.
Lady Ann merely covered her face with both hands, and shook her head at this new, disastrous revelation.
Nora appeared, to ask if all the guests would be staying the night, putting an end to the conversation. Lady Ann asked to be shown to her chamber, to rest before the evening meal. After her departure, the men turned to lighter topics, over tankards of ale.
Isabel was conspicuously absent, from the Lord’s table, at the evening meal. However, with Esme seated between Lady Ann, and the always jovial Robert, the meal progressed amiably.
With the meal past, Brant went upstairs to retrieve Nathaniel, from his mother. Upon his return to the hall, he instructed Rosamund, who was near the hearth with Hannah, to escort Ann up to visit with Isabel. He reminded the serf, that he was now the one in the position to assign her an unpleasant task, before telling her to stay with them, to be sure they were not plotting against him.
When Ann was lead into the Solar, by Rosamund, she immediately went to hug her daughter.
She drew back, saying, “I have been so worried about you. When he came after you, Brant was so angry. He is quite a large man. I swear he could break you in half with his bare hands.”
“I am fine,” Isabel replied. “He has not hurt me, physically. Brant is just a rutting boar, with my feelings. He always seems to be making flippant remarks, about things that bother me. He did that again this afternoon, so I took off on Matilda, to get away from him. He chased me down, and accused me of trying to lose the babe.”
Ann was unsure if her daughter’s strained expression, was more to do with the babe she carried, or the cloddish sire.
“You know if you do not want the babe, there is the root mixture that will likely make you lose it, right? Would you tell me, if he was hurting you?” Ann asked.
Isabel closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, before saying, “Rosamund, please leave us. I need to speak with my mother alone.”
She stepped over to stand near the door, so that she could watch the serf exit the antechamber. After she made sure they were alone, she shut the inner chamber door, and turned to her mother.
In a low voice, Isabel said, “Since their sire was killed several years ago, Brant has been raising his sister, Esme. When Esme’s mother died, her half-sister Hannah had no one to see to her care, so Brant took responsibility for her as well.” After a short pause, and a pointed look to Ann, she continued, “When you arrived this morning, I overheard you talking about me being ‘an innocent young girl, who did something unwise’. You must stop, mother. Your being here making demands, just reinforces the perception, that I am another child he must be responsible for. If I am an adult, I do not need my mother to fight my battles, so you are a meddling mother-in-law. While you may mean well, you are not helping. What is more, you cannot help me deal with my husband. Can you see that?”
“I had not thought of that,” Ann said. “I am sorry, if I have undermined you. I was just so worried that he was hurting you, after Rosamund mentioned those bruises. Men can be quite brutal, you know.”
“I had never been with a man before. It hurt. I fought,” Isabel explained.
“I did not think of that,” Ann responded, blushing slightly. “Are you sure you can deal with him, all by yourself?”
The tone of the mother’s voice, reflected her doubt about the younger woman’s ability. Doubts that Isabel shared, but knew she was going to have to overcome.
“No, but I do not see, where I have any other choice,” Isabel replied.
As she finished speaking the door opened, and Brant entered carrying Nathaniel. Isabel smiled at the thought that Rosamund must have gone straight to him, when she made the serf leave.
“He seemed to be a little fussy. I thought he might be missing his mother,” Brant said, handing Isabel the babe. “Are you ladies coming downstairs, this evening?”
Isabel smiled, thinking the babe being fussy, sounded like a plausible lie to check on them. Obviously, her husband did not want her talking to her mother in private, and had sent Rosamond up as a spy.
With a wry grin, she responded to his question, “Aye, I believe I will go down to the hall, for a while. Mother?”
“I think I would enjoy a glass of wine, before bedtime,” Ann said, wondering what had suddenly amused her daughter. Isabel had seemed rather despondent, only moments earlier.
Isabel stopped rocking Nathaniel's cradle, as the babe appeared to be fast asleep. In the hall that evening, he had been all smiles and coos, for the amusement of his sire. Brant's enjoyment in playing with the child, made it difficult for Isabel to believe, he was as angry as he implied with her. Despite his frequent barbed reminders, of how she had deceived him into fathering the child, his actions told a different story. It was even harder to trust his anger, when the man claimed intentionally trying to sire a second child with her, was some type of revenge. Unless his ultimate intent was to separate her from both her children. That fear, was never far from Isabel's mind. Though, Brant did not seem to be that vengeful.