Lady Isobel's Champion by Carol Townend

wedding. After he had honoured his promise to his father. After we have had time to get to know one another.
    That last thought caught him unawares. Ruthlessly, he dismissed it. We shall marry, and Isobel will choose one of my castles to live in. And then, apart from the children she will bear me, life will go on very much as it did before.
    In the aftermath of the first attack on Morwenna, Lucien had been forced to tell Abbess Ursula that Morwenna was his wife. Only the Abbess and a handful of his knights knew of his first marriage. Lucien had revealed his secret to the Abbess purely for Morwenna’s sake. He had wanted to protect her, and he had known that the Abbess would be more inclined to squash rumours of witchcraft if she knew Morwenna was Lucien’s wife.
    Notwithstanding, Lucien had had many a sleepless night over the Abbess learning that he was married. If word had got out—the scandal would have rocked Christendom. A noble of Lucien’s status was expected to marry well . Morwenna was not noble. She had been a minstrel’s daughter and her illegitimate birth was against her. If Isobel’s father, Viscount Gautier, had found out about the marriage, he would have accused Lucien—quite rightly—of breaching the terms of his betrothal contract. Not only would Isobel be lost to Lucien, but with her would have gone any hope of him having a real marriage.
    I kept marriage to Morwenna quiet in the hope that Morwenna would become strong enough to survive an annulment.
    That day had never dawned. Morwenna’s mind had become increasingly clouded and he hadn’t had the heart to divorce her. He had lost himself in tourneying; flinging himself into the life of an itinerant knight; hoping against hope that one day Arthur would send a message informing him that Morwenna had recovered. The message had never come, and Lucien hadn’t been able to bring himself to seek an annulment from a woman who was unable to fend for herself.
    Several years had gone by with Lucien braced for the day when the Abbess would reveal his secret to the world. Rather to his surprise, that day had never dawned. The Abbess had kept her word; she had kept his shameful secret. As far as Lucien could tell, she had never breathed a word about his marriage.
    Until now...
    If Isobel learned about Morwenna too soon, her view of him would be coloured by that one terrible mistake from his past. A woman of her status would see his marriage to Morwenna as an insult. Isobel would have grounds to reject him, and the world would learn his shameful secret. His dishonour. And those years of striving to regain his honour on the tourney field would be as dust in the wind. It was too soon for Isobel to learn about Morwenna.
    ‘Lady Isobel is my responsibility now,’ he said, firmly. ‘And I thank you for your care of her.’
    Abbess Ursula inclined her head. ‘Very well, my lord. May I wish you both well in your marriage?’
    ‘Thank you, Reverend Mother.’
    When the Abbess had gone, Isobel touched Lucien’s arm. ‘My lord, what did Reverend Mother mean about history repeating itself?’
    His jaw tightened. ‘It’s not important. Forget it. You will soon be out of here.’
    ‘For that I am grateful.’
    Lucien lifted her hand from his arm and kissed her fingers. ‘I shall bring porters and an escort at noon tomorrow. Until then, I bid you farewell.’
    * * *
    Count Henry’s palace was but a short step away along the Rue Moyenne and across the bridge, so there would be no need for horses. As Lady Isobel of Turenne’s betrothed came to escort her and she bade farewell to the nuns, the last notes of the noon bell rang out from St Peter’s Cathedral.
    It had rained earlier, and the cobbles gleamed with wet. It was cold, goose-bumps ran down her neck. Winter was fast approaching, but nothing could depress her spirits. Pulling up her hood, Isobel walked out of the Abbey and placed her hand on Lucien’s arm.
    At last, she was to have a taste of what life as the