road, as if they had ridden fast and long.
Were they on a peaceful visit? Or, more worryingly, did they assume her castle was unprotected since Hamon was not here? Others had made that mistake, believing a mere woman could not possibly hold such a large property all alone. Isabella’s beautiful face grew hard. They had realised the error of their ways, and so would these men.
“Lady?” The seneschal was hovering behind her.
“We will let them in and see what they want.”
“Is that wise?”
Isabella gave him a cold glance. “There are twenty of them and we are nearly a hundred. I think we can manage to contain them, don’t you? Besides, I want to know what they want from us.”
As she turned back to peer down at the band of men, the leader lifted his head and looked up. He was bare headed and his hair shone pale in the morning light. Something inside her jolted and she felt as if she was falling. Isabella grabbed hold of the wall, grazing her fingers, startled by her reaction. When she looked again the man had turned away.
“Lady, are you ill?”
“I am perfectly well,” she said coldly. Was the seneschal watching her more closely than usual? She had never liked Hugo, but he did his job well and she had never had reason to find fault with him. He’d been Hamon’s man, but she tried not to hold that against him, and he had been invaluable in the early days after her husband died. But she had never entirely trusted him and lately he seemed more skittish than usual, as if he had a guilty conscience.
“Come, we must prepare the men,” she said and hurried back down the stairs and from there out into the castle bailey.
Once she’d called together her garrison she began to give her orders.
“ Although I’m sure these men will not cause trouble when they see we are well prepared,” she said, “we must be alert in case they are foolish enough to try to take the castle.”
“Yes , my lady.” The garrison captain appeared ready for anything. He began ushering his men into strategic defence positions along the castle walls and inside the bailey.
Isabella waited on top of the stairs, before the huge oak doors of the keep, and nodded to the gatekeeper to give them permission to enter. If their visitors thought they could just ride in and overtake Godestone Castle they were in for a rude shock, she thought grimly. Her men were well trained fighters and she trusted their loyalty completely.
Still she held her breath when the gates opened and the men rode in.
They were all big men on their large destriers, dressed in chainmail but bare headed. The leader looked relaxed as he approached her, and now she saw his hair was golden in the spring sunshine. She could not imagine why the earlier sight of him had affected her so. He was just a man.
Smiling, he slid easily off the black horse, handing the reins to the lad who ran to him. He wore chain mail over his tunic and a heavy sword was strapped about his waist, and he looked dusty. There was a long scratch across the chain mail on his chest, the metal bent and torn, as if he had lately been in a fight. When he walked towards her she noted he had a slight limp.
“ My lady,” he said, bowing low. “I am Alric of Wenton. Thank you for allowing us entry. We have come from London. My men are weary and we would appreciate a chance to rest.”
“Of course .” She gestured to Hugo to deal with the horses and the men. “Will you take refreshment?” she added, turning back to Alric. That was when she realised that he was standing before her, looking up at her from the step below, and his piercing blue eyes were soaking in every inch of her. As if he planned to sit down and dine on her .
She shivered. She’d had many men desire her, but she suspected that after the death of her husband their desire had more to do with her lands than her body. She had never been at all inclined to succumb to their beseeching, dismissing them with the coldness that had only
Were they on a peaceful visit? Or, more worryingly, did they assume her castle was unprotected since Hamon was not here? Others had made that mistake, believing a mere woman could not possibly hold such a large property all alone. Isabella’s beautiful face grew hard. They had realised the error of their ways, and so would these men.
“Lady?” The seneschal was hovering behind her.
“We will let them in and see what they want.”
“Is that wise?”
Isabella gave him a cold glance. “There are twenty of them and we are nearly a hundred. I think we can manage to contain them, don’t you? Besides, I want to know what they want from us.”
As she turned back to peer down at the band of men, the leader lifted his head and looked up. He was bare headed and his hair shone pale in the morning light. Something inside her jolted and she felt as if she was falling. Isabella grabbed hold of the wall, grazing her fingers, startled by her reaction. When she looked again the man had turned away.
“Lady, are you ill?”
“I am perfectly well,” she said coldly. Was the seneschal watching her more closely than usual? She had never liked Hugo, but he did his job well and she had never had reason to find fault with him. He’d been Hamon’s man, but she tried not to hold that against him, and he had been invaluable in the early days after her husband died. But she had never entirely trusted him and lately he seemed more skittish than usual, as if he had a guilty conscience.
“Come, we must prepare the men,” she said and hurried back down the stairs and from there out into the castle bailey.
Once she’d called together her garrison she began to give her orders.
“ Although I’m sure these men will not cause trouble when they see we are well prepared,” she said, “we must be alert in case they are foolish enough to try to take the castle.”
“Yes , my lady.” The garrison captain appeared ready for anything. He began ushering his men into strategic defence positions along the castle walls and inside the bailey.
Isabella waited on top of the stairs, before the huge oak doors of the keep, and nodded to the gatekeeper to give them permission to enter. If their visitors thought they could just ride in and overtake Godestone Castle they were in for a rude shock, she thought grimly. Her men were well trained fighters and she trusted their loyalty completely.
Still she held her breath when the gates opened and the men rode in.
They were all big men on their large destriers, dressed in chainmail but bare headed. The leader looked relaxed as he approached her, and now she saw his hair was golden in the spring sunshine. She could not imagine why the earlier sight of him had affected her so. He was just a man.
Smiling, he slid easily off the black horse, handing the reins to the lad who ran to him. He wore chain mail over his tunic and a heavy sword was strapped about his waist, and he looked dusty. There was a long scratch across the chain mail on his chest, the metal bent and torn, as if he had lately been in a fight. When he walked towards her she noted he had a slight limp.
“ My lady,” he said, bowing low. “I am Alric of Wenton. Thank you for allowing us entry. We have come from London. My men are weary and we would appreciate a chance to rest.”
“Of course .” She gestured to Hugo to deal with the horses and the men. “Will you take refreshment?” she added, turning back to Alric. That was when she realised that he was standing before her, looking up at her from the step below, and his piercing blue eyes were soaking in every inch of her. As if he planned to sit down and dine on her .
She shivered. She’d had many men desire her, but she suspected that after the death of her husband their desire had more to do with her lands than her body. She had never been at all inclined to succumb to their beseeching, dismissing them with the coldness that had only
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