WolfeStrike (De Wolfe Pack Generations #2) - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,105

now you have me married to someone else so soon?”

Christian scowled. “Who said anything about marriage?” he said. “But Fraser seems like a good man. You can have a nice, long betrothal before the marriage so people will not talk and say you flitted too soon from one man to another.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Go away, you big dolt,” she said. “I’m going to sit over by the keep and wait for Tor and Isalyn to return.”

“And Fraser.”

She took a swing at him but he laughed and easily ducked, darting off and leaving his cousin frustrated.

But she wasn’t really frustrated. Isabella grinned when Christian couldn’t see her, knowing the man was on to something but refusing to admit it.

Still, she would stay where he could see her.

Wandering over to a stone bench by the keep, her thoughts turned from Fraser back to Barbara. She was anxious to tell Tor about their conversation so the man could be prepared.

This must not happen!

Something told her that there was going to be trouble.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

When Tor and Isalyn returned from Carlisle, Isabella was waiting for them.

It was early afternoon and the clouds overhead were gathering and threatening more rain as the party left their horses in the outer bailey and made the trek to the inner bailey on foot. Isabella had been sitting in the intermittent sunshine on the stone bench next to the keep, with a direct view of the gatehouse, and the moment they passed through, she was up and moving swiftly for them.

Isalyn saw her first.

“I can hardly wait to show Isabella my dress,” she said. But then, she sobered a little. “You do not think it will upset her, do you? She was so recently supposed to marry and that was taken away from her. I do not want to make her sad.”

Tor could see his cousin heading in their direction, her braids lifting in the wind. “I think she would very much like to see your new things,” he said. “She is not a selfish girl. She would not begrudge you your happiness. You are happy, aren’t you?”

Isalyn gazed up at him, a smile playing on her lips. “Very much, my provincial knight,” she teased. “And you?”

“Very much, my reckless old bride.”

They laughed at each other as Isabella came near. “Stop looking so deliriously happy,” she snapped, though it was in good fun. “You two make me sick and I am certain it is only going to get worse.”

Tor snorted. “It will, I am positive,” he said. “What are you still doing here? I thought you were going home with your father.”

Isabella cocked an eyebrow. “He drank too much last night and is only now breaking his fast,” she said. “I do not think we will be leaving before tomorrow. Ronan is even worse. He is still in bed.”

Tor grinned. “Where is Uncle Blayth?”

“In his chamber,” Isabella said. “How was your visit to town?”

“Productive.”

Isabella looked around at the party, lugging heavy chests. “Where is Lord de Featherstone?”

“He chose to remain in Carlisle,” he said. “He sent Fraser back with us, however. You should be grateful.”

Isabella looked at him, her eyes narrowing when she saw that he was smirking. “I have no idea what you mean,” she said dismissively, but she quickly changed the subject and tucked her hand into the crook of his free elbow. “Tor… I saw Barbara this morning. She did not know that you and Lady Isalyn are getting married and she… well, may we go somewhere and speak about it?”

It was an unhappy change of focus and Tor lost some of his good mood. “You were not threatened, were you?”

Isabella shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “My father and brother are here. Christian was here also, so I was well protected. But… I must speak to you about it, please.”

He was relieved that Barbara had at least behaved herself while he was away, but he was concerned with the urgency in Isabella’s tone.

“Certainly,” he said. “Let us take these treasures to your chamber and then we may speak.”

“Good,” Isabella said, looking to Isalyn. “Did you get some beautiful things?”

Isalyn nodded eagerly as the focus shifted to her. “The dress Tor selected for me is exquisite,” she said. Then, she held up her hand to show her the wedding ring. “And he bought this for me, too.”

Isabella looked at it closely. “A pretty gold band,” she said. “But no stone?”

Isalyn took the ring off. “No stone,” she said. “This is an ancient Roman