Isobeau balked. “Nay, not now,” she said. “I… I want to see my husband. I have been waiting all day to see him. Did you find out where he has been taken?”
Atticus hesitated, thinking of the slightly greenish tinge to Titus’ face and his rather sunken appearance. He wasn’t sure it was a good idea for Lady de Wolfe to see her husband in such a way but he was also fairly certain he had no choice. She had every right to view her husband’s body.
“I did,” he said. “He is down in the vault along with the earl.”
Isobeau gazed up at him with her green eyes. “Will you please take me to him?”
“Now?”
“Now.”
Reluctantly, Atticus nodded and politely took her elbow again as they made their way across the muddy, half-frozen ward towards the gatehouse. The angry, black clouds that had been moving in at sunset were now gathering overhead in a vast, pewter blanket, preparing to storm. Isobeau glanced up at the clouds as they walked.
“You should know that I will ask you again tomorrow if I can go with you,” she said to Atticus. “You cannot deny me forever.”
She said it in a rather imperious way and Atticus fought off a grin; he couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. Either way, it was rather humorous. “In fact, I can.”
“I will ask you daily. Mayhap even hourly.”
“Then you are in for a good deal of frustration.”
“We shall see.”
He frowned, glancing at her. “Do you think to badger me and beat me down until I submit?” he asked. “If that is the case, then you will be sorely disappointed. I do not fold.”
Isobeau cast him a sidelong look. “To men, you do not,” she said. “But it is different with women. It is bred into knights to grant a lady’s request. You will not be able to deny me forever, I say.”
“I suppose we shall find out.”
“Aye, I suppose we shall. Do not feel too badly when you finally grant my wish.”
“I will not grant your wish at all.”
Her eyes narrowed at him. “Would you care to wager on that, Sir Atticus?”
He looked at her, astounded. “Wager?” he said, outraged. “I will make no bet with a lady and I am ashamed that you would even propose such a thing.”
Isobeau scowled at him just as he was scowling at her. She even stuck her tongue out at him. Atticus held out about two seconds longer before swiftly turning away, breaking into a grin and hoping she hadn’t seen it.The little vixen, he thought. Even so, her gesture had been quite humorous. He couldn’t remember feeling the urge to laugh like that in a very long time. As of late, there had been nothing to laugh about.
Come to know what Titus liked so well about the woman.Already, he was starting to.
The gatehouse loomed ahead and Atticus directed her to the left side of the gatehouse where the stairs to the vault were housed. They were slippery, and narrow, and he held her arm tightly as she descended the stairs in her heavy, linen skirt. Slowly, they made their way to the bottom of the steps where it was very dark except for a single torch burning hot and low in an iron sconce. It gave off little light against the darkness.
Atticus let go of Isobeau’s arm and removed the torch from the sconce, leading her towards the cell where Titus’ body was located. Atticus could pick up a whiff of decay and he wondered if Isobeau could smell it, too, but if she did, she gave no indication. She was tucked in behind him closely because of the darkness and when he finally came upon Titus’ decaying form, he held the torch up and away so she couldn’t get a clear look at the color of his skin. He hoped to spare her somewhat. Stepping aside so she could see, he silently indicated Titus’ stone-cold corpse.
Atticus wasn’t able to catch Isobeau before she fainted dead away.
CHAPTER FIVE
Ionian scale in C– Lyrics to The Warmth
The warmth is you, in my heart and soul:
The warmth is you, until the day grows old.
The warmth is you, my dearest love:
You are a gift from the heavens, from God above.
