Brant heard Nathaniel chattering, over in his bed. The child had begun the day yesterday, with similar, unintelligible sounds. Soon the little boy’s head popped up, as he climbed into a nearly sitting position. Brant eased himself out of the bed, and went to the child. His bottom was wet, just like yesterday, only then, Beatrice had been there to see to him. He changed the babe, as he had seen his wife do, and thought it was not a bad effort, for his first attempt.
Brant carried Nathaniel to the bed, and laid down. The boy immediately crawled over to chatter, and pat his mother’s face. When her eyes opened, he squealed in delight, making his father laugh. In response to Brant’s laughter, the little boy crawled over, and raised himself on his knees, with his hands on his father’s chest.
Isabel mumbled sleepily, “You know, I think he likes you. Though I cannot be sure, since I do not understand that language he speaks.”
She propped her head on an elbow, as her son went through another string of happy gibberish.
There was a light knock on the door, and in response to Brant’s command, Beautrice opened the door. As she took in the scene, the serf gave a dower, almost disapproving look, to the occupants in the bed.
“I was wondering, if ye need any help with the lad, Me Lord?” the serf asked.
“Nay, Beautrice. I think his sire has it under control,” Isabel said, smiling. “We should be down for breakfast soon.”
Beautrice stood there for a few seconds, eyeing Isabel, before saying, “Very well, Me Lady. I will be going down to eat, then.”
She withdrew closing the door.
“I suppose, I had better get dressed, before she comes back, to glower,” Isabel said.
She rose, and went to her trunk for clothes. She proceeded to go through the gowns in the trunk, one by one.
“Not that,” Isabel said. “Certainly, not that.”
Brant, who had come up behind her, said, “I always liked you in that blue one. Why not that?”
She rolled her eyes, and answered, “The straight style makes me look like I am ready to pop. Of course, in a matter of weeks, I am going to look like I am ready to pop, in all of them. I wonder what you are going to think, of your revenge, when I am waddling around, as graceful as a cow.”
Brant let out a hearty laugh, and commented, “For some reason, that thought makes me want to take you back to bed.”
“And you, were calling me evil?” Isabel asked.
Over the next few weeks, Isabel settled in, to await the arrival of her second child. Robert and Kate, had stayed several days, before returning home. Isabel wished they had stayed longer, as Kate had been something of a deterrent, to Ann lecturing her daughter. She was quite certain, that Isabel had lost her mind, in allowing the pregnancy to continue. Her marriage to Brant needed to end, just as they had planned from the start. Because Isabel was expecting, she had no choice but to remain with him, until the babe was born. That was only delaying the inevitable, according to Ann, and keeping Isabel from getting on with her life. So it was a welcome relief, about a week after Robert and Kate left, when Ann departed.
Brant had to go deal with the properties, that passed to him, upon Niles' death. He had held two fiefs, that were not part of the estate of the Duke. One of them, was to be the dower property for Penelope, Niles' sister. Both would now go to her, upon her marriage.
Penelope was a score years old, and wanted to wed the eldest son of a nearby Lord. Niles had opposed the match, claiming her beau was beneath her. The sister felt, that Niles had not wanted to lose control of her income, as he was a very poor manager, of his lands. Brant made inquiries, and met with the young man. He decided that Penelope was likely right. Niles had delayed what was a suitable match, for his own benefit, so Brant approved the betrothal. He had come home for a few weeks. Then, he had to leave for several more days, to escort Penelope to her future in-laws, for the wedding.
As soon as Brant realized, that Isabel was still carrying their second child, Beautrice and Rosamund, were instructed that she was not to carry Nathaniel up, or down, the stairs. They were to see to that. When he was with her, Brant carried the child.
However, the biggest change occurred, within a few days of her return, to Brant's Castle. After she had put Nathaniel in bed, she went to change into her night clothes, but was a little uncomfortable with her growing belly, since Brant had stayed there. Isabel had put her gunna in her trunk, and was wearing only a thin chemise, when her husband picked her up, to carry her to the bed. Brant had finished undressing her, as he proceeded to remind her, there was at least one thing, they always did really well together.
Isabel was little disconcerted, by his actions. She half wondered, if this was his idea of a punishment. Twas difficult for her to believe, he could desire her distended figure. Yet, afterward he had turned her away from him, and held her gently, with her back against his chest. Not that she minded, that had always been good between them. After that night, she found herself subject to a repeat of his actions, every few days, when he was home. Being honest with herself, Isabel knew she needed the intimacy with him, to reassure her. No matter what her mother said, this was her life. She was wed to Brant, she had a son Nathaniel, and she would have her second child with her husband, in a few months.
Throughout her sixth month, and well into her seventh, Isabel fell asleep most nights, in her husband’s arms. Frequently, she awoke in the morning, with her back still pressed to Brant's chest. Many times, she discovered his hand resting on the babe, feeling for its movements. All of which, made her feel ever more tightly bound to him. She was his wife. The babe that grew in her, was his. There really was no way to separate herself, from him.
Isabel was more than agreeable with that, except for her mother. Before Ann left, she had expressed her continued opposition, to Brant and Isabel’s marriage. Ann was insistent, that if Brant thought he could keep Isabel wed to him, by demanding that the child stay there, he was a fool. She would not allow her daughter to remain wed to a man, who was at least in part, responsible for the death of Isabel’s father. Avery and Niles, were dead. That left only Brant, who had to pay in Ann’s mind.
She knew her mother could not force them to set aside the marriage. However, Isabel also knew her mother. Lady Ann was not likely to give up on getting what she wanted, until she got it, or there was no reasonable means, for her to get her way. Particularly, when in her mind, Isabel was just an innocent young girl, being influenced by a man who was nearly ten years her senior. While her daughter was with child, she might not be able to do anything about it. However, once the babe was born, Ann believed she need only remove Isabel from Brant’s control, and the girl would realize she had been a fool.
Whereas the girl, was quite well aware of the fact that her marriage not being the short, temporary arrangement, that had been envisioned, was squarely Isabel’s doing. From her encounter with Niles, she had expected his cousin to be some dandified imbecile, she could ignore. After watching Brant fight with the four guards present at their wedding, she had somehow found herself fascinated with his body. Rosamund, or several other serfs, could have gone to tend to his wounds, but she wanted a better look at him. When he did not recognize her dressed as a serf, she had been certain he never looked at her during their wedding, so she could safely go back. Robert had said, Brant amused his physical pleasures with lewd tarts, pretty exclusively. An innocent young girl should be safe, she had thought. When that was not the case, she had just rationalized they were wed, he had a right. With a wry smile, Isabel wondered what her mother would say, if she told her it was not Brant’s influence, but Isabel's lust, that had gotten her where she was.