Borderland Bride (3 page)

Now he had an added burden. A nameless, homeless woman. Nevertheless, he would gladly bear such a burden. For whatever reason, he had come across her and he considered it his duty to watch over her. Hoping he might be able to gain some answers to his questions, he made his way up the stone stairs, anxious to see the sleeping maiden again.

Chapter Two

In the depths of darkness, Isabel was aware of a presence. It scratched at her senses, beckoning for her to awaken. She didn’t want to. Her dreamless sleep offered a near painless respite from a world that had suddenly changed too much.

The niggle persisted, dragging her from her slumber, and she forced open her eye, as painful as it was. A slit of light seeped in through her swollen eyelid and beams of sunlight drifted about the room, highlighting the dust in great streams and hurting her open eye.

She groaned but nothing came. Her throat constricted painfully, reminding her of its rasping, arid state. In the corner of her vision, she spied the source of her disturbance.

The knight who rescued her.

He sat slumped on a rickety wooden chair, the thin supports looking far too small for a man of his physique. He was dozing, she concluded, as his arms were resting upon his knees and his head slumped forward.

Had he remained watching over her? How uncommon for a man of his status to spend his time seeing to a stranger. She cast her mind back to the hazy moments spent awake in his company. She had thought him the lord of the castle - his commanding manner certainly led her to believe so - but now she wondered otherwise. Surely a lord did not have the time to tend to a bedraggled maiden?

Isabel studied the room. From what she could see, it was well appointed. The chamber’s deep-set windows were fixed with clear glass, allowing light to settle on the whitewashed walls. Several brightly coloured tapestries hung from the walls and she could just discern one on the floor. Though it was not unusual to have rugs, Isabel herself had not seen them used on the floor before and her father had always refused to sully such finery with dirty feet in his own keep.

The soft, feathered bed was more luxurious than any she had ever slept in before. Its great, carved pillars rose above her and heavy red damask curtains partially enclosed the bed. The same material adorned the wide windows. Whoever owned this immense keep was no pauper.

Her gaze settled back onto the brown haired titan that guarded her. The memory of his giant hands wrapped around her sent a shudder through her aching body and she winced as her ribs stabbed in pain. They were broken, the physician managed to tell her. He attended to her with a kind efficiency, quickly establishing that she could not hear him. Had he told the man that her hearing was gone? And her voice?

What would happen to her now? Mayhap they would cast her out once she was well. Isabel shuddered at the thought. She would be little use to anyone in her current state and there would be no way to make a living without the full use of her senses.

Her head pounded as she continued to observe the sleeping giant. How could someone so immense be so gentle? He was truly fascinating. His tenderness had surprised her, particularly when he had taken her hand. A softness had glinted in his expression and she had nearly missed it beneath the stern brow.

Mayhap aware of her observation, he stirred. She did not turn from him, eager to see if that softness remained. He glanced at her as he stretched his wide arms and a flicker of surprise came across his brooding face.

He stood abruptly and then seeming to remember something, he sat again, darting a look of hesitation towards her.

He spoke, his mouth moving quicker than she was able to follow and she shook her head. Her vision swam and she grimaced.

This alarmed the man and he came to his feet once more, approaching the side of the bed and crouching beside her. He motioned to his ears and shook his head. She could just perceive a word coming from his lips.
Hear.

Nay
, she mouthed and he nodded. So he knew.

He put a hand to his throat, acknowledging she could not speak either and she nodded carefully.

Gesturing with his hands, he imitated writing. Could she write?

Nay.

Her father had never allowed her to learn such a skill, mayhap fearing it would bring her too much independence. Isabel had protested many a time that she needed the ability to document accounts for her future husband, a future her father had so eagerly prepared her for, but yet he still had not allow it.

He nodded again.
What is your name?

She eyed his mouth avidly; just able to distinguish his words as he spoke more slowly.
Isabel
.

His lips curved into a smile.
Isabel
, he repeated, copying the movement of her mouth.
I am Jake
.

Isabel did the same, mimicking him.
Jake
.

How came you to be here?

Licking at her lips, she wondered what she should say. She could not risk him finding out where she had come from, lest he attempt to send for her father. Deciding to pretend not to understand, she merely frowned, allowing it to deepen as he repeated himself. She sighed inwardly when he didn’t attempt to ask her again.

We shall see you well, Lady Isabel. Do not fear
.

So he recognised her as nobility. That might explain his care of her. However, it still didn’t warrant his full attention - she could just as easily be cared for by a maid. And who did he mean by ‘we’? Did he mean the other man? They were family then, just as she concluded, but how were they related? Her knight, as she was quickly coming to consider him, seemed older, but she was convinced now he was not the lord of this keep. Mayhap there was an older brother she was not yet aware of.

Mindful of the concern on Jake’s face as he watched her, she attempted a reassuring smile.

His lips tilted tentatively, as if he had forgotten how to smile, and Isabel found herself taken by the change it made to his face. Gone was the furrowed brow and grim expression. He was surely one of the most striking men she had ever met.

A vibration resounded in her senses and as Jake turned to the door she realised someone must have knocked.

Jake opened the door and ushered in a plump, older woman. A white wimple covered her head, pulled tight, pushing her double chin up and giving her a comical appearance. Isabel could feel her mouth twitch as the woman bustled in, waddling like a duck, and she flushed as Jake gave her an amused look, noticing her levity.

Isabel imagined she could hear the woman clucking as she dithered around her, laying out some cloths and clean clothes. She watched the woman’s mouth move incessantly and she picked out the occasional word.

Poor dear
, the maid muttered,
poor child.

Isabel’s flush returned with force. If she could only apologise properly for her discourteous thoughts. The woman was obviously as kind-hearted as she was plump.

Two more maids, much younger in appearance, entered. They looked strikingly similar in their tight wimples and plain woollen clothing, and she wondered if they were twins. She had never met a set of twins before, the babes never normally surviving in the mother’s belly, let alone during childbirth. They cast their eyes over her face simultaneously and Isabel couldn’t miss their pale green eyes widening in sympathy. They shared a look before bringing in a bowl of water and some towels.

Isabel bristled. She didn’t need their pity. She hated lying immobile and ignorant while everyone took care of her.

She felt a touch on her hand and turned her head. Jake looked down at her, patting her awkwardly, having detected her discomfort.

Winnie will take good care of you, lass. I shall return on the morrow,
he told her carefully
.

Isabel nodded, trying to ignore the desolation that welled up inside of her at the thought of him leaving. She prided herself on her independence and she would not allow those godforsaken men to take that away from her.

Jake motioned to Winnie and she bumbled over. Jake bent down to talk to her, turning his face so she could not see his mouth. What was he saying that he did not want her to see? They both glanced worriedly at her before turning back to one another.

With a nod, he bid her goodbye and Winnie made her way back to Isabel’s side.

Jake had obviously told her of her affliction before leaving, as the woman smiled kindly before talking slowly to her.

I’m Winnie, milady. These two are Mary and Margaret. We shall take good care o’ ye.

The girls dipped briefly to her before placing the water and towels on a large wooden chest that sat at the end of her bed.

Winnie helped Isabel undress with care. Isabel was grateful for the woman’s kindness, but it grated on her to have them treating her like this. She could barely move and it was not easy to divest her of all her layers.

When she was fully undressed, the twins - aye, they were definitely twins - carefully dampened the cloths and cleaned the grime from her body. Her head was too fuzzy to protest, and she felt little embarrassment at her nudity, but she shivered as the water chilled her, making her intensely aware of her vulnerability.

As they washed between her legs, she caught all three of the woman exchanging looks. What were they thinking?

Winnie must have noted her confused expression because the woman settled a hand on her hair, stroking it as she would a child.

…hurt ye in any other way?
Isabel was just able to make out.

Her brow furrowed. Any other way? The outlaws had hurt her in every way possible. Her eyes widened. Were they checking for signs that she had endured a rape? Sweet lord, they thought she’d been compromised.

She quickly shook her head and the three women visibly relaxed.

Did Jake think the same? Heat flooded her cheeks. She didn’t doubt that if he had not come when he had, she may well have been ravished, and she could have done nothing to prevent it. It was yet another thing she had to be grateful to Jake for.

Milord Jacob has been worried for ye.

So he did think her compromised. It pained her that he should think that of her. Why, she did not understand, for it would not have been her fault, but society took little pity on a fallen woman and she knew not what his views were. And from what little she could tell of him, she expected he would bear deeply the burden of such an attack. He struck her as a man who took on all the worries of the world.

Winnie, with the aid of the twins, helped her into a clean chemise and tucked her arms into an open robe. The chemise had exquisite embroidery and the gown was made of rich silk, another example of the wealth of this demesne. To whom did they belong? Mayhap it was Jake’s wife?

Her heart panged at the thought and she shook it off. She had no reason to assume he would not be married, he was wealthy and handsome, but she could not see a man paying such attention to her if he had the love of a wife to come home to. She hoped he did not.

Exhaustion descended upon her as the maids finished attending to her. The pounding in her head and ears had worsened. The pain likely revealed itself as the three women fussed over her, settling her back into the sheets with great care. Warmth filled her belly as a musky scent settled in the air while they drew the sheets over her.

Jake
.

She was in his chambers then. All the way here, that scent had wrapped her in a blanket of assurance and comfort. She’d recognise it anywhere.

The effects of the tonic the physician had given her still lingered and fatigue quickly overtook her, seeping through each limb and clouding her mind.

Winnie brushed her fingers over Isabel’s temple and spoke to her but Isabel was too tired to focus on what it was. The woman’s caress reminded her of her late mother and she drifted off with a contented smile.

~* * *~

The men-at-arms returned that eve after James led them in scouring the woods for the outlaws. They captured only one man and James’s men dragged him through the Great Hall, his hands shackled. They placed him roughly in front of Jake and Dominic, forcing him to his knees. Jake eyed the filthy man over the long table that stretched across the hall’s dais.

Dominic peered at him before turning to James. “Have you found no other?”

“Nay, milord. We searched far and wide but found no trace. This one claims he has a wounded leg and the others would not wait for him.”

“Aye, probably from kicking the poor lass half to death,” Jake snarled, his fist curling around his goblet. Dominic gave him a pointed look and he loosened his grip on the stem.

He took a calming breath. This was bound to be a struggle with one of the cowardly beasts right in front of him. Winnie informed him that Isabel had not endured the horror of rape but it did little to ease the blaze that burnt through his veins. The memory of her beaten body and the pain they had inflicted was enough to set his temper alight.

Dominic fixed the scraggly peasant with a cold stare. “What say you then? Have you an excuse for your wicked deed?”

Jake snorted. As if there could be an excuse.

“Nay, milord.” The man’s voice shook as he flicked a glance from brother to brother. “We just wanted some gems. We’re but poor men, milord.”

“There are many poor men in this world but they do not beat defenceless women,” Dominic’s voice emerged with a calm that Jake knew he did not feel. While his brother controlled his emotions with an ease Jake envied, he could see clearly his brother’s disgust at having had a woman attacked and nearly killed on his land.

The man lowered his eyes. “I know, milord. But she fought back…an’ she split Wilbur’s lip!” He shrank down as Jake’s jaw tightened. “We jus’ intended to teach ‘er a lesson and then some of the men got carried away.”

So Isabel had fought back. It did not surprise him. He knew by now she had great courage. Any other woman would have likely given up living long ago, but not Isabel.