Amaury’s gaze lingered upon the two deer Denis had killed, almost in challenge.
A more gracious man than her brother might have offered one as a gift, considering the deer had been killed upon Montvieux’s lands. Isabella did not expect that offer to be made and she was not wrong.
“Montvieux has been picked clean of every trifle,” Denis said with some hauteur. He slapped his gloves against his palm. “And we must hasten home to Marnis that the evening meal can be prepared. Father dislikes when any detail is late.”
“Before you leave, you will raise a cup to my lady wife on the day of her nuptials.” Amaury spoke as if there was no other choice.
“But you cannot mean to linger here!” Denis protested. “There is no longer any abode.”
Amaury gestured silently to the red tent, which looked quite marvelous to Isabella.
“Plus, you must swear fealty to my father as soon as possible.”
“I would salute the bride first,” Amaury insisted, nodding to the wineskin on Denis’ belt. Denis’ hand dropped possessively to it and the men’s gazes locked. Despite herself, Isabella was intrigued. Few challenged Denis, and she was pleased to see that he did not know how to respond.
Amaury did not delay. He raised a hand and his squire hastened into the red tent, returning with a chalice of shining brass. Amaury lifted the cup, so obviously inviting Denis to fill it that Isabella wondered how her brother would decline. “One sip of wine for each of us, no more and no less.” Amaury’s voice was as sharp as steel when Denis did not move. “Surely a knight of any merit would spare far more on his sister’s nuptial day.”
Denis clearly would have liked nothing better than to decline. But he was shorter than Amaury and less broad. There wasmenace in the very stature of her new husband and more in his obvious expectation. ’Twas clear Denis disliked any implication that he was less of a knight than her new husband.
He feigned a laugh. “Of course, of course! I must wish my only sister the best.” He poured wine into the cup with a caution, as if he would reserve as much as possible. When he halted, having poured only a small amount, Amaury cleared his throat pointedly. Denis’ lips thinned, but he added more wine to the cup.
He then claimed it, lifting it high to salute her with his oily smile. “Congratulations, Isabella. They said you would never snare a husband, but thanks to my intervention, we have proven them wrong. A knight, a crusader and perhaps even heir to Montvieux. I have done well for you, have I not?” Without waiting for a reply, he quaffed a large gulp of the wine, then leaned closer and kissed her cheeks in succession. His mouth was wet and she strove to hide her revulsion.
How could he so insult her before her new husband?
Amaury claimed the cup then and held the cup for Isabella. His gaze bore down upon her, making her heart race anew. “And so, my lady, we join paths and begin our journey together. May the future bring us health, happiness…”
“And many sons,” Isabella concluded. Amaury laughed and lifted the cup for her. She could not trust another, even him, so cupped the chalice in her own hands, which meant that her fingers were over his own. He watched as she sipped of the wine.
He then placed his mouth at the same point on the rim, holding her gaze and her hand as he sipped of the wine as well. “And so it is done,” he murmured, touching his lips to the back of her fingers. His salute was not revolting in the least. In fact, it fed that curious tingle within her and did as much in a most enticing way.
“Done?” Denis said then laughed aloud. “No match is made fully until it is consummated.” He reached for the cup but Amaury passed it to Philip, smoothly evading him. Amaury’s grip was firm upon her hand and his eyes glittered as he watched Denis, his disapproval more than clear.
Philip claimed the cup and offered it to the other three knights, each of whom wished them well before sipping of the wine, then the empty vessel was retained by Philip. Denis looked to be annoyed that there had not been another sip for him, but in truth, his wineskin was not empty as yet.
“Well, that is a deed well done and behind us,” he said then gestured to the horses. “You will ride with us, that my father may offer his felicitations.”
“I will not leave Montvieux this night,” Amaury said with resolve. “And I would hope that my lady wife would be content to remain, even when our accommodations are so humble.”
“Of course, my lord.” Isabella said, her heart leaping at Amaury’s quick smile.
“Here?” Denis demanded. “You would spend the nighthere?”
“It is my legacy.”
“How fortunate for you, Isabella, that your new husband has no regard for bedchambers and mattresses. You will be bruised on the morrow, to be certain.”
Was Denis right? Isabella had little notion of what to expect upon her wedding night and felt an increment of fear. She would be alone here, in the ruins of Montvieux, with her new husband and his companions, all of them strangers to her.
And yet, she felt safer beside Amaury than she had ever felt at Marnis.
Perhaps she already lost her wits.
“I shall tell Father to anticipate your arrival.” Denis spun, snapping his fingers to summon his party, including Edmund. Isabella watched as they mounted their steeds and the boyshefted the burden of the game. Her stomach rumbled in that moment, for she had not eaten since breaking her fast that morning.
“He could have left us one,” she said without meaning to utter her thoughts aloud.
“The venison would take too long to roast, for I am fair famished,” Amaury murmured, tucking her hand into his elbow as if she was a queen he was honored to accompany. “We will set some snares and have a rabbit stew instead. It will not be two hours before we dine.” He smiled down at her. “There is yet some bread, if you cannot wait, though it is several days old.”
