wcEND.rtf (42 page)

"
That is what he told me, but I do not remember."

"Have you been with him since our marriage?" he spoke through gritted teeth.

"No," Isabel cried. "No," she vehemently denied. "I would not
l
et that man touch me if my
l
ife depended on it."

Some of the tension seemed to go out of him.

"I must go," he said again, though he made no move to leave.

She stepped closer. "Come back to me, Hunter." And then she kissed him. At first he did nothin
g
—
h
is lips didn't part, his arms lay rigidly by his sid
e
—
b
ut when, with a painful heart, Isabel was about to step back, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her with the desperation that seemed to be a constant in their lives.

ISABEL stood in the middle of the bailey as Hunter, King Edward and his men, and the detestable Rupert disappeared in a plume of dust behind the gates of Windermere Castle. The sound of the horses' hooves thundering on the dirt path soon vanished in the air. But th
e
fear in Isabel's heart for Hunter's safety wouldn't end until he returned home safely and avenged.

Only then could she concentrate on restoring the trust Détra had shattered with her betrayal of Hunter.

Isabel hoped she'd somewhat eased Hunter's pain at Détra's betrayal with her actions in front of the king and Rupert, and her reassuring words of love before his departure. Yet, having been on the betrayed side in a relationship before, Isabel knew only time could heal such wounds.

And time was one thing Isabel didn't have.

Isabel gathered her skirts and pivoted. She walked th
e
short distance to the great hall's entrance, mindless of her exposed ankles.

An Italian guy once had told her she had a very sexy wal
k
—"Like the waves in the ocean, full of sensual moves." Isabel smiled at the memory, amazed it had come to her at all; she couldn't even remember the guy's name.

Suddenly her life before Hunter seemed a million miles away. And it might as well be, for time was as great a distance as miles. And yet, Isabel realized with some shock, she didn't miss her world. Surely she bemoaned the loss of certain amenities like electricity and tampons, and the thought of being seriously il
l
in this time wasn't a very comforting one, but apart from that, she didn't miss much at all. She'd never been into high technology, she hadn't even owned a computer or cellular phone, and the last car she drove she'd left behind in America years ago.

The only thing she loved and missed was her painting, and despite the lack of availability of painting supplies in this century, there was nothing that would prevent her from continuing to enjoy her art.

Isabel pushed those thoughts away; her adaptation to medieval life wasn't an issue at this point. After a
ll
, she bitterly reminded herself, she'd already gotten too used to a life that didn't belong to her. Her only chance to remain here with Hunter would be to find out that Détra didn't want to return to her own life.

And the only possibility of learning that would be through the chalice. Fortunately she wouldn't have to chase after it anymore. Isabel entered the great hall and her gaze immediately fell on the table where the chalice had been moments ago.

It was no longer there.

Good God! Had Hunter taken it with him? But he had given it to her
.
Had he changed his mind?

Refusing to let panic overtake her, Isabel scanned the
hall. A serving girl was walking to the war room, her back to Isabel.

"Miss?" Isabel called rushing after her.

The gir
l
spun around and in her hands she held the chalice.

Isabel sighed with relief.

"My lady," she curtsied. "I am to bring anything I find to Godfrey for safekeeping," she said, as if fearing Isabel might think she was stealing the chalice. "Methinks the king forgot this," she added.

"The chalice belongs to Lord Hunter," Isabel explained. "I will take care of it for him. Thank you."

Without hesitation the maid delivered the chalice to Isabel, curtsied, and then left the hall in a hurry.

Tightly gripping the chalice in her hand, Isabel took to the stairs. She needed some privacy to try to figure out how to make the chalice's powers work. She'd like to wait for Hunter's return, but what if Détra managed the exchange while Hunter was away? Isabel couldn't chance that. She had to tap the chalice's powers now.

But what if instead of giving her answers, the chalice sent her back to the future?

Indecision momentarily paralyzed Isabel in the middle of the stairs. With exhaustion threatening to buckle her legs, she took the last steps with wobbling knees. She needed some rest.

Isabel pushed the door to her bedroom open and suddenly a
l
l fatigue fled her. Maude was inside. With a shout of joy Isabel dashed to Maude, taking the petite woman into her tight embrace.

"Oh, Maude, I am so happy to see you," Isabel cried as she hugged Maude tight, then pushed her away to look at her and make sure she was truly unharmed.

Maude inspected her with equal concern. "Oh my lady, I was ill with worry for you. I knew you were home and
I have been on pins and needles waiting to see you, but we were told to keep away from the great hall while the king was here."

Isabel pulled Maude w
ith
her so both of them could sit on the garment chest, which doubled as a bench. "Well, now we can talk, and I want to know what happened to you."

"I must beg your forgiveness, my lady, but when I saw the Scots coming in my direction at the lake, I ran away. I thought the guards would be able to protect you, and I wanted to go for help. When Sir Gervase and his men found the bodies of the two guards but not a sign of you, they set pursuit, but could not find you. When they returned empty-handed,
I
—" Maude broke into tears,

Isabel had never seen Maude cryin
g
—
t
he woman was as stoic as Hunter was. Her heart tightened with emotion. Maude cried for her! Isabel had grown quite fond of the maid, the closest to a friend she'd ever had.

"What is important is that we are both safe," Isabel said, squeezing Maude's hands.

Maude nodded, wiping her tears. "You look frightful, my lady. A bath would do you wonders. I have also prepared some food, if you are hungry."

"Hungry? I am starved. I wi
l
l take the food before the bath, even though I stink dreadfully."

Laughing, Maude ambled to the table and returned with a goblet of wine and a tray with cut apples, cheese, and small pieces of co
l
d chicken. On the table, a bowl filled with apples made Isabel smile.

"Now you tell me what happened to you," Maude asked.

As Isabel sipped her wine and nibbled on the food she recounted the horrors of her abduction, Hunter's daring rescue of her, obviously omitting Hunter's secret, and then the events earlier at the great hal
l
,
"Lord Hunter is now aware of your secret?" Maude asked.

Isabel nodded. Maude was too nice to name the secret. "He knows of his wife's betrayal with Rupert."

"And how did he react to the tidings?"

"I think he was stunned at first, but he did not go on a rampage."

"That simply is not his way," Maude said.

"I know, but there was a great disappointment and sadness in his gaze I will never forget, though I made sure he knew I love him and I want nothing to do with that man. I made that clear to everyone, including Rupert and the king."

"
Then, let us pray Lord Hunter vindicates his honor and returns to you soo
n
," Maude said.

"Hopefully by then his raw anger and pain might be somewhat diluted and he will be able to forgive me."

After she finished eating, Isabel peeled her clothes off of her body. One thing was certain, if she remained in this time, no matter how weird she would look, she'd always take her daily bath. She heard medieval lords carried their beds wherever they traveled. Isabel would carry her bathtub.

Immersed in hot water, with Maude washing her hair, safely enclosed inside the castle's walls, Isabel closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth, comfort, and pleasure of being home.

Her eyes flared open. Home? Was that how she thought of this place? The feeling was as odd as it was enticing, as intriguing as it was frightening. Home! She closed her eyes again and the next time she opened them, the water was cold. She must've dozed off for a little while.

Maude waited, sitting at the stool with a huge drying cloth in her hand.

Isabel rose from the tub, dried herself, then sank her
exhausted body onto the soft mattress. With heavy eyes, she watched as Maude left the room, then succumbed to a much-needed rest.

Hours later, when she awoke, the room was immersed in darkness. She must have slept a
l
l day, she realized. Her first thoughts turned to Hunter. She said a silent prayer for his safety and success in proving his innocence, realizing she'd prayed more in these past days than she had in her lifetime.

Suddenly restless, she rose, had to wait a moment for a sudden dizziness to vanish, and then ambled to the table to light some cand
l
es. She poured some water in a bowl and washed her face.

Never before had her life been so out of her control. No sooner was one problem resolved than another fe
l
l in its place in a continuous domino effect.

And that last domino to tumble would be her fate with Hunter.

She pivoted and her gaze fell on the sachet containing the chalice, resting by the garment chest where she had left it this morning. As she dried her face she walked to it and picked it up.

Chalice in hand, Isabel went to the fireplace, which burned low. At first she stood there, holding the chalice close to her heart, not knowing exactly what to do. Should she wish for something or just stare at it until it revealed a vision? Fear, anticipation, and hope warred inside of her. Finally, gathering her courage, she lifted the chalice and looked at it.

The sheer beauty of it once again astounded her. She traced its lines with her fingertips, seeking the warmth she knew lived inside its pewter walls, but only cold metal touched her skin. She stared at the blue stones until her eyes burned, but no glow emanated from it, no mystical mist swirled from its depth, no revealing visions.

Isabel concentrated on
Détra
's image, then on her own body in the future, but the chalice remained unchanged. She thought of Hunter, her love for him, her desire to be with him. Nothing. Maybe she'd have to duplicate the exact conditions of that mornin
g
—
t
ime of the day, weather. The only predictable thing would be the morning, for the sun still rose day after day, but the weather would be out of her control.

Regardless, she would try the chalice's powers again in the morning. She returned to bed, but instead of falling back again asleep, she tossed and turned, thinking and worrying about Hunter and wondering about the chalice.

The next morning, before Maude came to her, Isabel tried the chalice again, and again nothing happened. She tried it every morning after that with the same results.