He moved inside her a few times, but then stopped. At the moment, he despised himself for what he’d done. He could have shed a few drops of blood on the sheets without even touching her. Edwin de Godred wouldn’t have known the difference.
But selfishly, he’d seized this moment, wanting to join with her. And she hadn’t known any pleasure at all.
He withdrew without letting himself come to fulfillment. Upon the sheets he saw the evidence of her lost virginity.
“Are you all right?” he managed to ask.
Her face was pale and stricken. Isabel turned away, sitting with her back to him as she pulled theléineover her bare skin. The silence cut him like a blade, and he dressed quickly, stripping off the sheets.
“I am sorry,a stór,“ he murmured. As he left her chamber, he damned himself for what he’d done.
Chapter Fifteen
Isabelstoodbesidethewindow, staring outside at the crowd gathered. The women mingled inside the ringfort, smiling and anxiously awaiting their husbands.
She hugged her waist, feeling numb about what had just happened. Her body ached, and her heart was hurting. Patrick had started to treat her like a lover, arousing feelings deep within her. And then he’d stopped. Without any warning at all, he had joined their bodies and ended it.
Why? Did he loathe touching her that much?
A soft knock came at the door, but she gave no reply.
“Isabel?” The voice of her father intruded, and she heard the door creak open.
She didn’t know what he wanted now, nor did she particularly care. Hadn’t he done enough? “What do you want?”
“Are you—did he—?” Her father seemed at a loss for words. Good. He deserved it, after what he’d forced.
“Aye.” She turned to face him, clenching her hands behind her back. “It’s done now, and I think you’ve interfered with my marriage enough. I want you to leave us. Go and join whatever armies you like, but don’t return here.” Her face grew taut with anger. “And see to it that the Earl of Pembroke stays far away from here.”
Her father’s expression turned uncomfortable. “I only wanted to make you a queen, Isabel. You could not have wed a more powerful man, had you remained in England.”
That much was true. But Patrick’s power was the last thing she wanted. She wanted only a man who could care for her, and perhaps give her children one day. A husband, not a king.
“Please go,” she whispered.
Edwin looked as though he wanted to cross the room and offer an embrace, but he didn’t. His face furrowed, but at last he nodded and left her alone.
Isabelhelpedthewomencook for most of the afternoon, and more than a few ladies waited nervously upon the shore for a sign of their husbands. Her own nerves were frayed tightly, for she knew not whether she would see Patrick this night. She had taken extra care with her appearance, both longing to see him and being afraid of what he might say.
Thank the blessed saints, her father had gone. And though she understood the forthcoming threat of invasion, she wanted to pretend that all would be well.
The first boats arrived as the sun drenched the horizon in bronzed red. For the first time, she saw the Norman men smiling. A few of the women wept tears of joy while their husbands kissed them heartily. She watched one soldier’s face transform with awe at the sight of his newborn babe. The babe reached out to touch his father’s face, and Isabel stood transfixed at the sight.
Her smile of welcome strained when there was no sign of Patrick. Although she moved among the folk, ensuring that all had enough to eat or drink, her spirits fell. It grew worse when the folk began to pair off, after the children had gone to sleep.
She remained outside the donjon, stepping past couples who kissed in darkened shadows. With each step, her heart felt heavier.
When she reached a more isolated part of the island, she sat against a large stone, listening to the waves. She had let herself get her hopes up, wishing Patrick would return. She wanted to talk with him, to understand what had happened between them this morn.
And then, as if emerging from the midnight sea, her husband climbed over the rise of the hill. The sky had grown dark with only the moon to illuminate his presence. The silver rays gleamed against the black of his hair.
“I almost did not come,” he said, his voice deep.
Isabel did not stand but turned back to the water. “Why did you?”
He knelt down beside her. “To apologize.” He took her hand, and said, “You didn’t deserve what I did to you.”
She closed her eyes. “It had to happen sooner or later.”
