And better yet, Isabella loved him. There was a gift beyond expectation.
This time,Rosalie awaited Amaury in the red tent, and Isabella conferred with the healer about her husband’s injuries. They stripped off his garments with the aid of Philip and the healer professed herself relieved when she had examined the wound.
“Missed the bone,” she said and Philip nodded in his relief. “He may limp. He may not run with the same vigor, but if the wound is kept clean, he will live, my lady.”
And that was all the reassurance Isabella needed.
Much later, she took the tidings to the Count de Sant-André, whom she had not met before. He proved to be a gracious older gentleman with a persistent twinkle in his eyes. He asked if he might confer with Amaury and, with Philip and Rosalie’s approval, he was welcomed into the red tent. This he professed to be a marvel, and his company did seem welcome to Amaury. Between herself and Amaury, the entire scheme of Edmund was laid bare.
They saluted their own success and vowed to feast on the morrow together, then the count left Isabella alone with her husband. It was late and falling dark, the camp becoming quiet beyond the silken walls.
Amaury opened his arms in invitation and she joined him abed, ferociously glad that he had not been more grievously injured. She lay against him, her one hand curled within his own, and listened to his heartbeat beneath her ear. She thoughther own heart might burst with the vigor of her love for him, and she felt a stab of fear that she could have lost him this day.
Her valiant, fearless, principled knight.
“You should not have come,” she murmured again, feeling responsible for his injuries.
“There was no choice and you know it,” Amaury replied easily. “Only you can cast me from your side.”
Isabella braced herself on her elbow to frown down at him. He looked deeply untroubled by her expression. Indeed, his eyes glinted. “I gave instruction that you should not come to Marnis and you ignored it,” she said with mock sternness. “Do not tell me that you are so concerned with a lady’s desire.”
Amaury chuckled, looking so weary that her heart clenched. “I would hear it from your own lips.” His eyes opened and he considered her, his gaze that fierce blue. “Speak then, my Isabella. Tell me now to leave you forever and I will rise from this bed and do as you command.”
The very prospect was terrifying.
“I will not,” she said and his smile was immediate.
“I shall have to remain then, and strive to deserve your affection,” he said. “After all, you spurned me twice, my lady,” he said.
“And that is uncommon for you?” She could only imagine that it must be unusual for such a man.
Amaury wound a tendril of her hair around his finger as he thought, his hand so close to her shoulder that she could feel his warmth. “I suppose I have been fortunate in gaining my desires, at least until we wed,” he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But you challenged me, questioned me, and ceded very little, Isabella. I confess I was intrigued as never I had been before.”
“Because I defied you?”
“Aye! With others, I can charm and cajole. With you, every word I uttered only condemned me the more. You were a riddle I wished to solve.” He watched her through his lashes. “Did you truly believe I would not come for you?”
Isabella shook her head, watching how that pleased him. “I knew you would come. But I could not bear that I might be responsible for your loss,” she confessed, sensing that he waited for her to say more. “I prayed for your safe return from crusade and when you asked my view of a match between us, I knew you were a man like no other.” She frowned, letting her voice drop. “I am sorry that I feared to trust in that.”
“And who could blame you for such caution, given what you have known of men.” He held her gaze as he leaned slowly closer and she parted her lips, wanting only his kiss. He inhaled sharply at the sight then his hands were in her hair and he was leaning over her, kissing her with all the passion she had come to expect from him. And Isabella, trusting in their new accord, kissed him back, surrendering to her desire for all he was and all he promised.
Long moments later, his lips were against her ear, his warmth surrounding her, and he whispered her name with such ardor that her heart squeezed tightly. “But I entreat you, my lady, please do not spurn me a third time. My pride could not bear it.”
“Your pride!”
His laughter rumbled deep in his chest. “My heart then.” He looked down at her, eyes dancing. “I never believed in love, my Isabella, not like this. Who would have guessed that the one lady who challenged me would so securely claim my heart as her own?”
“You had to know that my heart would readily be your possession.”
“Readily? I think not. There are no easy triumphs with you, my lady. You always tell me what you truly think, Isabella, and that is a gift beyond price.” He closed his eyes and lay back, his expression turning playful. “Indeed, I dreamed that you made a sweet confession to me when we fled Marnis, though I would hear it again and again.”
“Truly?” Isabella reclined beside him, prepared to tease him in return. “While I dreamed that I met a knight who captured my heart completely.”
Amaury lifted a brow. “Tell me his name that I might defend your honor from this rogue.”
She laughed at him. “You need not do as much, sir, for I married him before he accomplished that feat.”
“Did you then?” He was clearly pleased and claimed a satisfying kiss.
