Keeping her tone light, Isobelle murmured, ‘Let’s talk about something else.’ She knew better than to delve into that subject, just as she knew Gwen had never told her everything about what had happened the time she faced the dragon. The last thing she wanted to do was make Gwen relive that awful night.
Gwen drew a deep breath, and her hand came to rest on Isobelle’s arm. Gwen slipped back between thecottages, drawing Isobelle with her, which was a pleasing development. They made their way past a group of children hanging a ‘JUSTE MARRYED’ sign across the haunches of the horse that would soon carry the happy couple away, and slipped into the shadows.
Gwen was always hesitant about showing affection in public, though not out of concern that anyone would disapprove. She just wasn’t given to gestures of that nature. Hers lay more in the line of slaying dragons, that sort of thing.
In villages like this one it wasn’t so unusual for two women to make a home together, though Isobelle had never heard of a wedding. In Isobelle’s world of landed nobility, however, bloodlines were all. Not only was a wedding out of the question, but any relationship that might prevent Isobelle from carrying on the family fortunes would be frowned upon.
For now, while Gwen was in favour, the two of them continued to swim upstream. As for what they would do later … well, they’d already begun to plan.
Separated from the merriment of the wedding by a row of houses, Gwen pulled Isobelle close, one arm around her waist and the other lifted – her thumb brushed Isobelle’s jaw, sending sparks all the way down Isobelle’s body.
‘Forget the dragon,’ Gwen murmured. ‘Surely by the time we get back, we’ll have your parents’ reply to your letter. No more jumping through Whimsitt’s hoops, nomore of this incessant patrolling on his order. We’ll go where we want, when we want.’
Isobelle gazed into the intent green eyes that had so captivated her, even before she understood how she felt about this girl. ‘It sounds like a dream,’ she said, quite dreamily indeed.
‘Once they release your dowry to you, we’ll be free.’ Gwen’s thumb stroked Isobelle’s cheek again as Gwen’s gaze lowered, now watching Isobelle’s lips with decided interest. ‘When the letter comes.Ifit comes.’
Ordinarily, Isobelle would be entirely fascinated by Gwen’s interest in her lips. Ordinarily, Isobelle would be adding her own little touches of interest – leaning more tightly against Gwen, tilting her head the inch required to meet her, stroking the long, silky rope of Gwen’s braid.
Under constant surveillance at the castle, and under constant weary travel conditions on the road, Isobelle hadn’t gotten to do much more than kiss Gwen. A delightful pastime, to be sure, but Isobelle felt fairly certain there were other, additional activities she should like to explore. She was nothing if not a dedicated explorer of all things Gwen.
But she could see a grim worry in Gwen’s eyes that made her ache. It wasn’t as bad as the terror she’d seen when Gwen was suffering her nightmares, but this, at least, was a problem she could tackle. ‘It has to be there,’ Isobelle agreed. ‘Itwillbe there.’
‘What if Whimsitt intercepts their reply?’ Gwen’s question was barely audible.
‘He won’t.’ Isobelle spoke with every ounce of certainty she could summon. ‘We were so worried he’d see my letter when I sent it, and he didn’t – he’s hardly going to monitor incoming messages any more strictly. He’s not that smart.’ But the furrow in Gwen’s brow scarcely eased. ‘We shouldn’t underestimate him.’
‘Nonsense,’ Isobelle replied, summoning her brightest smile and leaning back from Gwen. ‘A small man lording over a small county versus the Lady Dragonslayer herself? No one would put their money on him. Come on, we ought to just slip away now, before the guests realise you’re gone and come looking for you. Eventually someone will get up the courage to invite you to dance.’
Gwen’s brow furrowed a touch more, but she let go of Isobelle obediently, and as she glanced back towards the party, she grimaced. ‘Good idea. Let’s get out of here.’
Isobelle fell into step beside her, and they made their way towards the stables. Her head ached, and the wine she’d drunk earlier was disagreeing with her in a most insistent way.
When they’d begun responding to calls for dragonslaying services, Whimsitt had initially insisted Gwen go alone. But the dragonslayer had a certain amount of pull, and she’d refused to go unless Isobelle could come with her. Gwen had some notion that Isobellewouldn’t be safe if she was left alone with her guardian. He was clearly still furious at his loss of control over the whole dragonslaying situation, and though the Lady Dragonslayer had the support of the people, Isobelle was a more vulnerable target. He’d proventhatwhen he’d put her up as the prize for the tournament in the first place.
But as miserable as it was camping on the road, Isobelle was glad she was with Gwen. They’d kept up their spirits thinking that when Isobelle’s parents got their daughter’s letter and heard of her plight, they would help in some way.
That had somehow turned to ‘if we could get hold of your dowry, we could escape Whimsitt’s tyranny’.
And now, it had becomewhen.
Whenwe hear from your parents,whenthey release your dowry to you … we’ll be free.
Because surely they would hear soon, andwhenthat reply came, their problems would be solved.
Isobelle had put a great deal of work into the letter to her parents, which had contained several layers of salient points. She had reminded them that Whimsitt’s willingness to sacrifice her to anactual dragoncast serious doubts on his suitability as a guardian. He was, she suggested, unable to prioritise both the best interests of his wardandhis county.
In the event that this did not win them over, she had laid out arguments regarding her own financial management skills, appealed to the respect they mustsurely feel for Gwen’s noble deeds, delicately suggested that their prolonged absence rendered their judgement on this the tiniest bit questionable, hinted that Olivia thought the whole thing a good idea, and quoted Plato’sRepublicon the right of women to education, and the assumption of duties equal to men. Which was a bit of a stretch, but she bet her parents hadn’t read any Plato in ages.
It had been averygood letter. Still, sometimes Isobelle felt the tiniest flicker of impending doom when she thought of it.
So much hinged on that single letter getting back to them without Whimsitt’s intercepting it. Everything, in fact. Her hopes. Her future.Theirfuture. And he was a wily opponent.
No pressure.
2
Three bites before calamity
