WolfeStrike (De Wolfe Pack Generations #2) - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,73

and with his elaborate broadsword affixed at his side, he was moving swiftly. When Isalyn saw that he was carrying her bag, she went to him to collect it.

“Thank you,” she said. “My father is still in the hall, but he will be staying in this building as well. Those two women ahead of us are the chatelaines. They can tell you which chamber is his.”

Fraser nodded, catching sight of the dark-haired lass a few feet behind Isalyn. When their eyes met, he nodded his head in her direction.

“My lady,” he greeted politely.

Isalyn made the introductions. “This is Lady Isabella de Wolfe,” she said. Then, she lowered her voice as she turned away from Isabella. “This is the woman who was betrothed to Steffan.”

Fraser’s dark eyebrows lifted. “It is?” he muttered. “God’s Bones… he ran out on that?”

There was something in his tone that made Isalyn take a second look at him. He was focused on Isabella as if he’d never seen a woman in his life and Isalyn fought off a smile, realizing there was some manner of instant attraction there. She’d never seen anything spontaneous from Fraser for as long as she had known the man, so this was an event.

She wouldn’t waste it.

“Come with us, Fraser,” she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him along. “Lady Isabella, you do not mind, do you? Fraser can see where my father is to sleep so that he can have his baggage brought there.”

Isabella was looking at Fraser much the same way he was looking at her. “I do not mind at all,” she said, her cheeks tinged pink. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord.”

Fraser dipped his head at her again. “For me, also,” he said. “Do you live here, my lady?”

Isabella, on the other side of Isalyn, shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “I was telling Lady Isalyn only a few minutes ago that I spend my time between Castle Questing and Roxburgh Castle. My father is Blayth de Wolfe, brother to the Earls of Warenton, Berwick, and Northumbria. He is the fourth son of William de Wolfe, the great Wolfe of the Border. Have you heard of him?”

Fraser nodded. “Everyone north of Leeds has heard of William de Wolfe,” he said. “Young lads are raised on tales of his valor. You are his granddaughter?”

Isabella nodded. “I am,” she said. “Did you ever met him?”

“Alas, no,” Fraser said. “I wish I had been given the opportunity. I am sorry to hear that he passed away only a few short years ago, but he has left a great legacy.”

Isabella was smiling at Fraser’s gracious compliment of her grandfather. He had a deep, silky voice, one that was quite pleasant to listen to, in her opinion.

“Thank you,” she said. “I quite agree with you.”

Fraser smiled at her, one that was bit more flirtatious and a little less polite, but there was nothing more to say at that point so he looked away, only to catch Isalyn grinning openly at him.

Realizing she was aware that he thought Isabella was quite pretty, his smile vanished unnaturally fast and he cleared his throat, looking on ahead to the apartment block. Anything but Isalyn’s smirking smile. As they arrived at the apartments, the two red-haired chatelaines were waiting at the door.

“This is my father’s knight, Sir Fraser le Kerque,” Isalyn said as they arrived at the entry. “He is to be shown where my father will sleep. Fraser, this is Lady Barbara and Lady Lenore, wards of Tor de Wolfe. They are his chatelaines.”

Fraser greeted them politely, but not with anywhere close to the zeal that he had greeted Isabella. As Lenore took him into the apartments to show him where Gilbert was to sleep, Barbara led Isalyn and Isabella up the stairs to the first floor.

Although Barbara seemed to be behaving herself, Isabella walked up the stairs behind Isalyn, remembering what had happened to Lady Violet. She was nervous that Barbara had put Isalyn on the upper floor, but it wasn’t as if she could say anything. She could only hope that Barbara wouldn’t maneuver Isalyn anywhere near the stairs for the duration of her stay. She simply didn’t trust her not to. In fact, Isabella was going to make sure her father knew of her concerns. Perhaps he could relay them to Tor.

Or perhaps not.

It wasn’t like Tor was apt to do anything about it.

As Isabella lost herself in memories of the women Barbara and Lenore had targeted in