But he needed to tell her about the spying so she would understand about the women. “She is upset, I—”
“For heaven’s sake, Stephen, she still has the last man’s blood on her!”
Stephen shuddered as he recalled the moment he turned and saw her chest drenched in blood.
“She was trying to wash it off,” Geoffrey said.
Stephen knew what it was like to be covered in that much blood. Though he gave her a clean shirt and a bucket of water last night, nothing short of a full scrubbing in a steaming hot bath could get the blood out of all the cracks and crevices.
Geoffrey took Stephen’s arm and turned him around. “You must give her time to recover.”
“You are right, of course,” Stephen said, feeling wretched. Less than a day after she escaped rape and murder by her last betrothed, he was pressing her to marry.
“I see more than my sister gives me credit for,” Geoffrey said. “Sit down and I will try to help you.”
Stephen slumped down beside Geoffrey in the tall, wet grass by the stream. “Does she not believe I love her?” he asked, desperation rising in his throat.
“You concern yourself with the wrong question.” Geoffrey picked up a stone and tossed it into the water. “What Isobel wants to know is, can she trust you? Will you be there when she needs you? Or will you sacrifice her for something you want more?”
Stephen stared at the dark, moving water. He heard the splash of another stone and watched the ripples in the reflected moonlight.
“I was too young to remember our mother before our family’s fall from grace,” Geoffrey said. “But it was different for Isobel. Both she and our father felt abandoned.”
“Isobel told me something of it.”
“That loss made their bond closer still,” Geoffrey said. “They enjoyed each other’s company and liked to do the same things—sword fight, ride fast. She became both companion and the kind of son he wished he had. ’Tis lucky Isobel has a good heart, for our father could not tell her ‘nay.’ He adored her.”
“And still,” Stephen said, “he traded her happiness for a chance to have his lands back.”
“It devastated her,” Geoffrey said, shaking his head. “I worry for her soul, for she has yet to forgive him.”
“So, no matter that I love her, she believes I will betray her, too?”
“ ’Tis worse than that,” Geoffrey said.
“Worse?”
“Aye. She loves you.”
“How can that be worse?” It was the one thing that gave Stephen hope.
“That is why she is so determined not to marry you,” Geoffrey said, patting Stephen’s shoulder. “She knows the more she cares, the more you can hurt her.”
“Isobel would not throw happiness away for lack of courage,” Stephen argued. “Would she?”
“She has courage to spare,” Geoffrey said, getting to his feet. “The problem is, she has an equal measure of stubbornness.”
Damn! Stephen leaned back on his hands and gazed up at the moon. Somehow he must find a way to convince her she could trust him. But how?
“I suggest you pray,” Geoffrey said, above him.
He heard Geoffrey walking through the brush in the direction of their camp.
“Pray without ceasing,” Geoffrey called out from the darkness. “That is your best course.”
Chapter Thirty-six
Caen Castle was a glorious sight, the distinctive stone of its high walls pink in the light of sunset. At long last! When Stephen finally led his bedraggled group through the gates, one of the king’s guards was there waiting for him.
