Isabella woke up to an empty bed. The coldness on Leofric's side told her all she needed to know. That damn man. Did he think he was immortal? A little break would do him a lot of good.
Colour rose to her cheeks when her eyes fell on her clothes from the previous night, carelessly strewn across the floor. True to his word, Leofric had punished her all night, sending her into oblivion—so much so that she didn't care to remember. It was a good punishment, one she wouldn't object to any time, any day.
As she lay there, memories of their passionate lovemaking flooded her mind, and she blushed at the sheer intensity of their desire. Ah, the man is going to be the death of me, she thought, smiling to herself.
Just as she was getting lost in thought, Judith knocked and entered with a large pile of washed clothes. Isabella sat up in bed, glaring at her handmaid. She had learned from Leofric that Judith was the one who snitched on her the previous night. So much for loyalty.
Judith, aware of her mistress's anger, kept her head down. "Good morning, my lady," she greeted.
"What's good about this morning, Judith?" Isabella asked, raising a questioning brow.
"I know you're angry," Judith said softly.
"Oh, you don't say!" Isabella shot back sarcastically, fighting back a smile. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stay angry at Judith. The girl had only done what she thought was right. No doubt anyone else would have done the same in her position.
"Forgive me, milady," Judith said, eyes downcast. "I didn't mean to betray your trust. But Lord Leofric was frantic with worry. It was quite an unbearable sight."
Isabella twisted her lips. "Whose side are you on again?" Not waiting for an answer, she clicked her tongue. "But you could bear betraying my trust. Great."
Judith shook her head frantically. "It's nothing like that, my lady. Oh, you should have seen how helpless and angry—and scared—he looked when it was confirmed you weren't in the manor. He looked... pitiful and sad. I've never seen him like that before. I'm sure he thought you ran away."
Isabella frowned. "Why would he think that? I gave him my word that I'd stay until I completed my part of our deal."
"Your part of the deal? You two made a deal?" Judith asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
Isabella nodded. "We'll go our separate ways if I bear him an heir."
"My lady!" Judith exclaimed. "How could you make such a deal with your husband? This has never been heard of before."
Isabella shrugged. "It's for the best, I guess," she replied, frowning deeper as she realized she didn't believe her own words. Why did the thought of leaving him suddenly make her feel nauseous?
"My lady, do you really think Lord Leofric will let you go at any point?" Judith asked. "Not even a sword to his neck would make him give you up. I think he loves you." Her lips curled into a hopeful smile.
Isabella narrowed her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Judith. The man doesn't love me. He just wants someone he can force to do his bidding."
Judith shook her head in protest. "But what I saw last night was more than him wanting to control his wife."
"Keep telling yourself that. I know Sir Leofric better than you do," Isabella snapped. But the moment the words left her lips, she realized she wasn't trying to convince Judith—she was trying to convince herself.
She was clinging to her reasons, desperately trying to justify why the marriage couldn't work—why she couldn't let those dangerous feelings inside her bloom.
"What about you?" Judith asked, her eyes searching Isabella's face.
"What about me?" Isabella repeated, eyes focusing on nothing in particular.
Judith cleared her throat. "Don't you care about him? Even if it's just a little?"
Taken aback, Isabella swallowed hard. Did she care for the blaggard? Of course she did. But she'd be damned before she let him know that. "It doesn't matter," she finally said. Before Judith could ask more questions, she added, "Where is the man in question?"
"He was heading to the training field when I last saw him," Judith replied.
Against her will, Isabella's heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing him again. "Ugh, this has to stop," she muttered under her breath.
Judith's head snapped toward her. "Is everything alright, my lady?"
Isabella scratched the back of her neck. "Ahem—yes, yes, everything's fine."
"Are you still angry at me, milady?" Judith asked, hope gleaming in her eyes.
"I don't know. I need time to think about... us," Isabella replied, trying to keep a stern face. But it faltered, and a wide smile crept across her lips.
She got out of bed and began getting ready for the day. She bathed, changed into fresh clothes, and brushed her hair until it shone. She hadn't cut it lately—she suspected Leofric liked it long. He always ran his fingers through it when they were together. It was a silly reason, but she couldn't help it.
She planned to take a small walk around the manor first before heading to the training grounds, but her feet had other plans. They led her straight to the field, where Leofric's men lounged, chatting and resting—clearly on break.
Her eyes scanned the area until they landed on Leofric... speaking with a woman.
Her eyes narrowed. Why hadn't anyone told her they had a visitor?
Isabella's heart skipped a beat—not in a good way—as she studied the woman. Graceful features. Long, jet-black hair that cascaded to her waist. A straight nose and a soft jawline. She couldn't make out the eye color, but she bet they were beautiful. Green? Blue? Hard to tell.
The woman gestured animatedly, clearly upset. Isabella didn't need to hear their conversation to know she was angry. Who was she? A knight's wife? Leofric's secret lover?
As if sensing her presence, Leofric's eyes found hers. His shoulders stiffened. She watched as he roughly grabbed the woman's arms and dragged her away from the field.
Isabella's curiosity—and discomfort—grew.
Just as she took a step toward them, she was flanked by Eric and Robert.
"What are you doing out here? The sun will damage your flawless skin," Robert chimed.
Before she could respond, they whisked her away. Suspicious.
"I'm fine," she said, pulling her arms free. "Who was that lady?"
"What lady?" Eric asked, a strained smile giving away his poor lying skills.
"Oh, that lady?" Robert echoed. "She's an old acquaintance of Leofric's."
"An old acquaintance?" she repeated. "She didn't look like an old acquaintance to me."
"Why? Are you jealous?" Eric asked, wiggling his brows playfully.
Isabella's eyes widened. "What do you mean by jealous? It's nothing like that."
"Sure, sure," Eric and Robert chorused, clearly not believing her.
"You know what? Forget it. I'm going to ask Leofric myself." She turned, but they blocked her path.
"Instead of that," Eric said quickly, "why don't you tell us about last night?"
"What about last night?" she asked, turning to Robert, who was smirking. "You promised not to tell a soul!"
Robert shook his head. "I'm sorry. The story was too good not to share. To think I almost strangled my sister-in-law, thinking she was a man—" He burst out laughing, Eric joining in.
Isabella shot them a mock glare as they made fun of her alter ego. Robert later begged her to teach him some gambling tricks, which she playfully refused.
Not long after, Leofric appeared and dismissed them.
"Are they making life difficult for you? Just say the word, and I'll behead those two."
Isabella grinned. "You'd do that for me?"
"Of course, my love. Anything for you." He grabbed her hand, sending shivers down her spine.
Silence lingered as they walked.
Finally, Isabella asked, "Who was that woman?" She stopped. "Don't lie to me."
Leofric sighed. "I wasn't going to lie. She was my mistress before we got married."
She let the words sink in. "What did she want?"
"Nothing," he said, breaking eye contact. "You know how women are—she's upset we didn't end up together."
Isabella sensed he was hiding something but pushed it away. She trusted him. "Why didn't you marry her?"
"She didn't like the idea of marriage back then." Then, as if reading her mind, he added, "There's nothing going on between us."
Isabella nodded absently, trying to imagine Leofric with another woman—loving her, touching her. It made her blood boil.
To change the topic, Leofric asked, "Are we still honouring Lady Harcourt's invitation to the ball?"
Isabella nodded with a sigh. "Unfortunately, yes."
Leofric mimicked her frown. "I was hoping you'd say no."
She smiled. "It's the first ball we've been invited to since we got married. And you know we'll be throwing one soon. We have to attend theirs if we want them to attend ours."
A goofy smile spread across his face. "I like it when you say we and ours."
"Wipe that smile off your face," Isabella said, rolling her eyes—though she couldn't stop smiling either.
Leofric's grin faded slightly. "I don't know what to wear. And no, before you suggest it, I can't show up in armor."
Isabella giggled. "Definitely not."
"I could have a tailor—"
"No," he interrupted. "I'd love for you to choose something for me. Whatever you pick is fine."
"Really? Even if I ask you to wear a potato sack?"
Leofric chuckled. "I think I'd look great in one."
"You bet."