He glanced at her. “I would be honored if you would call me Warenne,” he said. “We have traveled an entire day together,after all. I believe we know each other well enough to not be so formal.”
Isobeau offered a weak smile. “Of course,” she said. “I would be honored. You may address me as Isobeau if you choose.”
Warenne dipped his head graciously. “Thank you, my lady,” he said, his attention soon turning to the room. “I am sure Atticus is securing food and drink for you. Is there anything else I can do to see to your comfort?”
Isobeau shook her head, covering her mouth to stifle a yawn.” Nay,” she said. “Thank you very much, however. You have been most kind since we left Alnwick.”
Warenne smiled and pulled the empty chair towards him, sitting. “It has been an honor,” he said. “Besides, if my wife was traveling away from me with some strange earl for company, I should hope he would be just as polite.”
Isobeau’s smile warmed. “You are married, then?”
He nodded. “Indeed,” he said. “We have been married three years. My wife bore twin girls two years ago and is currently pregnant with our third child. I am praying it is a boy because two little girls have been a chaotic and rather noisy experience.”
Isobeau laughed softly. “And you think a boy will not be?”
He shrugged. “I am willing to hope. It will be a boy, after all.”
Isobeau shook her head at his optimism, grinning. “Then I wish you luck,” she said. “And your wife? What does she think? Does she hope for a son, also?”
Warenne nodded. “My hopes are her hopes,” he said rather imperiously, laughing when he saw the look on her face. He sobered. “I jest. Whatever my wife wishes is my wish also. She wishes for a healthy son; therefore, I do as well.”
Isobeau wished for the same thing, knowing that Titus’ wish would have been her own. At that moment, she wished more than anything that she was sitting with Titus, reveling in the joy of their impending child. It occurred to her that she never hadthe chance to tell him, fainting as she did the moment she saw his sunken, green face. It had been so ridiculous of her to do that. Sadness swept her and tears stung her eyes, thinking that instead of rejoicing over a baby, Titus was lying cold and dead in a hard, oak box. It just wasn’t fair. Distracted with thoughts of her husband, she forced herself to answer the earl.
“I am sure a healthy son will be born to the House of de Winter,” she said, trying not to sound too sad or disinterested. “You must return home soon so you do not miss the birth.”
Warenne nodded, thinking on his wife, the lovely Madeleine Summerlin de Winter, when they both caught sight of Atticus as the man suddenly appeared at the far end of the room. He emerged from the kitchen into the smoke-filled chamber followed closely by two serving wenches bearing trays of food and drink. Warenne rose to his feet as Atticus approached.
“Ah,” he said with approval as he noted all of the food. “A feast fit for a very hungry lady.”
Atticus immediately noticed that the table Isobeau was sitting at was far too small for four people, as there would soon be when Kenton returned. Since there was only a lone man sitting at a much bigger table nearby, Atticus swapped out tables with the man and presented a larger and more appropriate table for their party. When the tables were finally situated and the food was set out, Warenne begged a momentary leave.
“I will return shortly,” he told Atticus. “I must see to my horse and Lady de Wolfe’s horse. They are outside in this icy weather and must be tended to.”
Atticus shook his head. “I will do it,” he said. “Sit and enjoy your meal.”
Warenne waved him off. “You have not spoken with Lady de Wolfe all day,” he insisted. “Sit and eat. I will tend to the animals and return as soon as I can.”
Before Atticus could further protest, Warenne was already across the room and out the door. With a heavy sigh, one at the man’s swift disappearance, Atticus sat in the chair the man had vacated.
“It is not appropriate that an earl should tend to his own horse much less tend to yours,” he said, eyeing Isobeau as he began to cut into a large loaf of cream-colored bread. “He should have let me do it.”
Isobeau was watching him as he cut the bread and placed a thick slice in front of her; she still wasn’t over thoughts of Titus and the son he didn’t know about. “He seems like a very kind man,” she said. “He has been great company today.”
Atticus moved on from the loaf of bread and began to cut hunks of meat from a boiled beef bone. “Thetford and I have been friends for many years,” he said. “We fostered together, years ago. He is a good man.”
“Did he foster with Titus, too?”
“Aye.”
Isobeau thought’s lingered on Atticus and Warenne and Titus, all of them fostering together, sharing adventures together. Then she thought again of her husband lying cold and alone in a strange stable, without any companionship now whatsoever. It was wrong that a man so loved was now so alone in death. She gazed at the food he was putting on her trencher without much enthusiasm.
“Where did everyone go?” she asked. “The wagon and Titus and my things. Where did they go?”
Atticus pointed in the general direction of the street with his knife. “We saw a livery at the southern edge of town,” he replied. “Kenton has taken them there. He will have the men bring your trunks here, although I cannot see a need for all seven.”
There was disapproval in his tone. Uncomfortable and sad, and with an aching back, Isobeau was increasingly aware thatshe needed to relieve herself, as they’d not stopped since leaving Alnwick that morning. More than that, she now knew where Titus was. She had to go to him, to tell him of their child and to make sure he wasn’t alone. It wasn’t fair that he didn’t know what everyone else did and it certainly wasn’t fair that he was alone. Eyeing Atticus, Isobeau knew he wouldn’t let her go to him. He would make excuses to keep her from him, or worse, he would tell her that it was not her right. Therefore, she had to get away from Atticus if only for a precious few minutes. As Atticus continued to dole out food, she stood up.
“Do you know where the privy is?” she asked.
