“Nor I, but I was afraid.”
“And always alone,” he mused, then kissed her again. “Has no one ever taken your cause, my lady?”
“Not until now,” she admitted readily. “I find the change both disconcerting and most appealing.”
Amaury chuckled and stretched out beside her again. He leaned on his elbow, looking down at her, lying on her back, then placed his hand upon her waist to urge her closer. She felt the solid strength of his chest against her arm, the power of his thigh against her own, and the heat of him from shoulder to knee. She liked the weight of his hand upon her and smiled up at him, losing herself in his steady gaze. “Who would hold Marnis in your absence?”
Isabella liked when they conferred thus: while their lovemaking was potent, in a way, this exchange of confidences, done abed, was even more so.
“You, by right of marriage.” She had to say it and he winced in acknowledgement of that truth.
“And who by any other right?”
“Faydide, I suppose, could claim the holding and wed again.”
“But she was to be dispatched to the convent, and she could not have dealt that blow to Denis.”
Isabella shivered. “Her brother might have taken her cause.”
“To what end?” Amaury shrugged. “We all would wish for the good fortune of our siblings, but I see no specific gain for him.”He traced circles on her stomach, his brow furrowed, for a long moment. “Who was absent from Marnis in December last?” he asked finally then met her gaze anew. “Who could have ridden to Beaune to send that gift to my father?”
It was another way to consider the riddle and a good one.
“Not Faydide. Not Edmund.” Isabella pursed her lips. “Mallory was not in residence at Marnis then. He could have been anywhere, even at home in Sancerre.”
“And the villain could have sent written instruction, by a trusted messenger.” He grimaced again. “Someone has been clever, my lady, but we must be more so.” He met her gaze again. “Tell me precisely what occurred before your father died.”
“The night before Denis’ funeral, guests were welcomed at the board. Do you know Marguerite de Haniers, or her brothers?”
Amaury shook his head. “I have heard of the holding. It is to the southwest of Marnis, is it not?”
Isabella nodded. “There was an argument between my father and Faydide. He informed her that he intended to wed Marguerite, since Denis could not do as much, and that the engagement would be formalized after Denis’ funeral. He declared that he would put aside Faydide and that she would be sent to the convent along with me.”
“He had need of an heir,” Amaury said and Isabella nodded. “Still, I doubt his lady wife was pleased to hear this plan.”
“She was not. She was fairly dragged from the hall by her brother, Mallory, then my father insisted that the feast continue, as if naught were amiss at all.” Isabella frowned. “I am not certain what the lady Marguerite’s brothers thought of it. The lady herself was more concerned with her dog.”
“Marguerite was to wed Denis,” Amaury mused.
“And I wager her dowry had been paid and spent. I wondered at the time if my father made his choice because he could notrepay the sum.” Isabella recalled a detail. “And Faydide said that Mallory had been absent on some mission for my father. He might have ridden to Haniers, to encourage the lady to arrive sooner than planned.”
“I myself witnessed the formalization of the engagement and your father’s demise.” Amaury cast her a sparkling glance. “And your claiming of the ring.”
“I am the last of his lineage. Marnis should be mine.”
“And I admire that you were sufficiently intrepid to ensure that it was so.” He kissed her again. “Where was Mallory when Denis died?”
“He must have been in the hall. Everyone said Denis rode out alone.”
“He might have left by another portal.”
Isabella shook her head. “There is only the one. My father and his Captain of the Guard used to argue about it. There is the one gate in the wall, which my father insisted was most secure. The Captain of the Guard argued that there should be another smaller passageway, in case we were besieged, for example, but my father was unconvinced.”
“Then if he did ride out that morning, the gatekeeper would have to have seen him.”
“Aye. I do not think that man would confess as much, though.”
“Do you recall any other detail that might be of import?”
