Page 20

W hat had she just done? Isabella hurried to the cabin where Pascal still lay unconscious on the pallet.

Will and Adelaide still sat in the corner, hugging each other and keeping vigil, but at least no one in here had seen her lose control.

If she’d been thinking straight, she wouldn’t have left Will and Adelaide alone together.

It wasn’t proper. But then if she’d been thinking straight, she wouldn’t have let terror for her sister propel her up to the deck where the situation was every bit as bad as she had feared, where one man stood between them and certain death, single-handedly battling the flames that could have spelled their doom. One man—her husband.

She licked her lips as she closed the cabin door, trying to ignore how heat churned within her at the taste of him still lingering there. It was beyond intolerable that she had lost her mind and kissed that man. He was the most pompous, irritating, wickedly intelligent, undeniably brave…

Oh no. This couldn’t be happening, but it had happened.

Somehow her loathing had transformed into consuming passion.

He’d climbed that mast like the madman he was and saved all their lives.

Watching him risk his life like that was like striking flint next to a barn full of straw.

She went up in flames as surely as that mast, and heaven help her, she wanted the man she was married to.

Needed him. When he’d walked toward her, looking at her like she was his whole world, forces beyond her control had taken over.

Before she’d known what she was doing, she’d crashed her lips into his and wrapped her arms around him.

And that kiss! Lord in heaven, that kiss. She would never recover. But he was still the man Lady Eleanor sent and therefore not to be trusted. She had to find a way to undo what she’d just done.

“My lady, are you all right?” Will asked from his corner.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, her voice croaking.

“What happened up there?” Rising from the corner, he took her elbow and led her to the bed where she took a seat on the edge beside Pascal. It was the only place to sit, since the stools were still lashed to the table.

“Go up and see for yourself. I’ll keep watch here.”

Will nodded and went running out the door.

Grateful for a moment alone with her sister, she put her hand on her belly and took deep, steadying breaths. Adelaide joined her and took her hand, squeezing it.

The kiss changed nothing. Anyone would have been overcome upon seeing such a display.

It was the heat of the moment and nothing more.

Martin was still untrustworthy, and this marriage was still intended as some sort of punishment for a transgression she never even knew she’d committed.

And she still needed to rescue Adelaide.

The cabin door opened, and in walked the man at the center of her turmoil. Immediately, all her best intentions flew out the door.

“Isabella—” he began.

“It was a mistake.” Why was her voice so high? She clutched the edge of the bed, desperately trying to ground herself. “A lapse in judgment. It won’t happen again.”

“Isabella,” he took a slow step toward her, palms open. “We have to—”

“Stay back. We aren’t going to speak of it. Forget it ever happened.”

“What never happened?” Adelaide asked, but Isabella couldn’t take her eyes off her husband.

Panic coursed through her at his proximity. If he got much closer, she was in grave danger of losing control and repeating the rash action that had gotten her into this fix in the first place.

He folded his arms and smirked. “Ah, but it did. You. Kissed. Me.”

Blood rushed to her face, and her cheeks burned. “It didn’t mean a thing,” she said as lightly as she could. “I’m still marrying an earl.” It sounded weak, even to her.

He looked down at her with an intensity that made her tingle from head to toe.

It was so wrong that he could make her feel like this.

He took a step toward her. And another step.

He was nearly toe to toe with her, looming over her as she sat, but not touching her.

Adelaide stood up abruptly and headed for the door, mumbling, “I’ll leave you two alone. ”

Curses! She needed the buffer of her sister to keep herself from doing anything rash.

Martin leaned close. Too close. The urge to close the distance fought with her outrage at her body’s utter betrayal.

“Have it your way,” he said softly, touching his finger to her chin and tilting her face up.

“It didn’t happen.” He knelt down so that his face was level with hers, lips inches away.

“It didn’t mean a thing.” Leaning in, he stopped just short of a kiss, his breath brushing against her lips.

Everything in her tensed. He tilted his head.

“You’re marrying an earl,” he whispered in her ear, letting his mouth brush against it.

She gasped. God in heaven, she was in so much trouble.

“And I,” he said, standing and backing away, still with a devilish twinkle in his eye, “need to change into dry clothes. Would you like to stay and watch?”

He began loosening the laces of his tunic. As he pulled it over his head, she bolted, but not before catching a glimpse of his chest, the glorious contours of which were clearly visible beneath the nearly transparent, wet linen shirt that was plastered to him.

Slamming the door behind her, she rested against it for a moment, all too aware of the amused and curious glances she was getting from members of the crew belowdecks.

She cleared her throat and straightened her back. “I think I’ll just…” What was she going to do? Where was there to go on a ship that would have easily fit inside her father’s great hall? It didn’t matter. She had to do something. “I’ll go find my sister and get some fresh air.”

Up on deck, she found Adelaide in her usual position beneath the forecastle. The storm had abated, and patches of stars shone through the remaining shreds of cloud. Threads of smoke still curled up from the charred top of the mast. It was a miracle they had all survived.

No, it wasn’t a miracle. It was her husband—the man she couldn’t afford to fall for, the man she had just kissed.

In front of the whole crew. Fortunately, they were all studiously ignoring her now.

It was embarrassing enough to know they saw without seeing the knowing amusement in their eyes.

Her sister, on the other hand, was stifling a grin.

“You kissed Lord Martin,” Adelaide said in a singsong. “I knew you’d come around. It was only a matter of time.”

“I have not come around, and it won’t happen again.” It couldn’t. She needed to keep her head for Adelaide’s sake.

Martin emerged on deck in dry clothes and winked at her, sending sparks all through her. She narrowed her eyes and glared at him, bothered by her body’s reaction when she desperately needed to keep her distance.

He cocked his head and shrugged, then turned to Halfred, who rushed to his side the moment he emerged on deck. “We’ll have to stop and make repairs. By my estimate, the closest port is Yarmouth. Would you agree?”

Yarmouth. After all that had transpired, she had gotten her way after all. The earl visited Yarmouth regularly, though his seat was inland at Norwich. If she was lucky, she could put her plan to marry the earl in motion while the ship was being repaired.

She did her best to ignore the pang of regret and reluctance that came along with that thought.

“Aye,” said Halfred. “That’s the nearest port. But is it safe to land there? I’ve heard there’s been unrest.”

Martin looked at the mast, then back at Halfred. “We’ll have to risk it. We can’t sail back to Winchelsea with half our mast missing.”

For the next few hours, the ship was a hive of activity as the crew took stock of the damage from the storm and prepared for landing.

Isabella couldn’t wait to get to shore and away from temptation.

It was altogether too dangerous for her to stay on board The Wind Song in close quarters with Martin.

But her eyes kept straying to the man, admiring his form as he went about his business.

Every so often, he glanced her way, and she averted her eyes immediately, hoping he wouldn’t notice her gawking.

She absolutely could not get off this ship fast enough.

Relief flooded her as the port of Yarmouth came into view with the rectangular stone walls of Burgh Castle on a verdant hill in the distance.

The ship she’d taken to Northumberland had stopped here to resupply, and she’d made the acquaintance of Lord Christopher, the local baron, and his wife.

They were a friendly couple with a passel of adorable children.

If the earl wasn’t around, they would certainly pass on a message on her behalf.

The Wind Song docked, and the busy town of Great Yarmouth stretched out before her.

Large timber warehouses lined the busy port.

Behind them, thatched rooves and half-timbered houses with smoking stone chimneys filled her view.

It would be delightful to go indoors and warm herself properly by a fire.

It was already warmer here than it was at her father’s castle, but it was still winter.

Martin gave orders to his men about repairs and resupply as they lowered the gangplank. He also sent Will for a healer to tend to Pascal. Then he came over to her and put out his arm. She shrank back, clutching Adelaide’s arm and not trusting herself to touch him.

“I don’t bite, Isabella. Unless you want me to. Or perhaps you want to bite me?” He gave her a long, heated look that made her want to die on the spot. “No? Then perhaps you would allow me to accompany you to Burgh Castle. I’m sure you’ll be comfortable there while we make repairs to the ship.”

There was no way around it. She and Adelaide could hardly travel to the castle unaccompanied. Reluctantly, she took his arm, keeping as much distance between the two of them as possible. Adelaide took her other arm. God’s teeth, this was terribly awkward.

It was a relief to let him go and mount a horse so that they could ride up the hill to the castle, once an ancient Roman fort. Adelaide coughed as she perched herself on the saddle and then coughed again.

“Are you all right?” Isabella asked, studying her sister’s features. Adelaide’s skin was flushed despite the cold. “You aren’t getting sick, are you?”

“It’s just the aftereffects of the smoke,” Adelaide answered, clearing her throat and straightening her back. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

Isabella didn’t believe her for a moment. “When we get to the castle, I’ll ask for a healer to see you.”

“If you must,” Adelaide answered. “But I promise you, I’m fine.”

Isabella pursed her lips but said nothing.

“Let’s get both of you inside the castle where you can warm yourselves by the fire, shall we?” Martin started forward on his horse, and Isabella and Adelaide followed. Four men from his ship brought up the rear as guards.

Yarmouth was a busy port—not the biggest Isabella had ever seen.

It couldn’t compare to Calais. But for England, it was impressive.

There must have been twenty or more ships docked there.

Warehouses lined the docks, and sailors, fishermen, and dock workers scurried back and forth, shouting and hefting cargo in an intricate dance.

She ignored the whistles and ribald comments that floated by as she passed, though Martin stared down anyone getting too close with a glare that promised murder.

Soldiers were everywhere, standing guard and watching incoming vessels with a close eye.

Even a bustling place like this had been affected by the strife between King Stephen and the Duke of Normandy.

Signs of the war were everywhere. As they turned to enter the city, they were forced to pass through a wooden barricade manned by the Earl of Norfolk’s men and state their business.

Lord Martin talked his way through with ease, and their group passed the spiked, wooden barrier to enter the town.

Vendors with street carts clogged the cobblestone streets, peddling their wares.

The smells of civilization wafted in the air, both the good and the bad.

The scents of roasted meat and fresh baked bread mixed with the pungent odor of excrement as they wended their way along the broad street that led to the castle.

Fully-armored knights stood guard at the castle gates as they approached. The castle walls bristled with archers. Though there were no signs that battle had passed through here, they were clearly on high alert.

Norfolk supported the Duke of Normandy but had not engaged in open battle with King Stephen. In these uncertain times, however, it was good to know her prospective husband was ready for whatever might come his way.

In the courtyard, they dismounted, and servants led their horses away to the stables.

A guard led them into the small keep in the center of the large fortress.

Burgh Castle had been built by the Romans as a defensive outpost, not for comfort.

There were tight quarters within the keep with few private rooms. Most of Lord Christopher’s men slept in the great hall at night.

She prayed there would be space for her and Adelaide to have a room to themselves.

The guard passed them off to a servant who led them through the dimly lit entrance hall to the great hall.

The long trestle tables and benches were pushed to the sides of the rooms, and petitioners filled the hall, which was brightly lit with torches.

It must have been time for Lord Christopher’s daily audience with his subjects.

At the far end of the hall was Lord Christopher and sitting beside him was… What luck! The Earl of Norfolk was indeed visiting his vassal. Now Isabella could put in motion her plans to leave behind the inconveniently alluring Lord Martin and marry a man she could trust to stand up for her.

If only she could ignore the ache in her heart that told her that she was about to make a terrible mistake.