CHAPTER THIRTEEN

TRUE to his word, Arthur returned less than an hour later. “May I enter, Countess?”

She finished brushing—or twigging—her teeth, stuffed a bunch of mint in her mouth and turned. “Yes, sir, you may.”

“Has the vow-day dress been decided upon?”

“After a little argument over color, it has indeed.”

“Color?” he asked, as he walked in, a flask of wine and two goblets in his hands.

“She had her heart set on the red, but I talked her into the green. The red kind of clashed with her hair. The green complimented her coloring much better.”

He set the goblets down and filled them. “I believe you have a better eye for such things than most.” He handed her one of the goblets.

“How long were you standing there?” Isabel asked, accepting the wine.

“Long enough to recognize why I have these feelings for you, Izzy.”

She lowered her head hiding her grin. “You do know I only afford those closest to me to call me Izzy.”

“I do.”

“So you are assuming I have allowed you into my circle of closest friends?”

“I have high hopes, and so I am taking the chance. Have ne’er waited in my life to be invited. I have this tendency to barge in. ’Tis a terrible fault of mine.”

“Yes, you brute!”

“My belief, beautiful lady, is that you can handle the brute.”

The look in his eyes told her his intentions were so very not honorable. Which was as sexy as sexy could be.

She backed up. “Mary could return at any moment.”

“She could,” he said as he backed up and kicked the door closed and then turned the lock. “But she would have a very terrible time entering.”

“I don’t suppose you put the Do Not Disturb sign out there?”

“No one will disturb us. At the risk of being beheaded.”

Isabel gulped. “You’re teasing, yes?”

“You tell me, Isabel. Am I teasing?”

“You would never hurt anyone like that. So, yes, I know you’re teasing.”

He held up his goblet. “To the most unusual woman I have e’er met, Isabel. And the most full of heart and care and passion. I am so happy to have met you.”

They clinked and drank, and then she answered, “And to the most compassionate and loving man I have ever met, Arthur. This journey has been strange and long, but had I not traveled it, and not met you, I feel it would have been such a loss. You really have been a new treasure to me.”

They sipped again, green eyes locked on blue.

Then they sat in the respective chairs, which was probably a much better idea than throwing the goblets aside and jumping into bed. Although she wasn’t quite certain at the moment why that was a better idea.

“You entrance me, Isabel,” Arthur said. “Everything about you calls to me. I will not deny it. I also will make no apologies for it. This feeling is somewhat beyond my ken. I happened to be at the door from near the moment you wanted to do something special for Mary. ’Twas very special. As are you.”

She sipped her wine again. “As was I with Mary’s news that you had ordered your men to clean up for James and Mary’s wedding. It was a wonderful thing for you to do.”

“First, I did not order it, Isabel. I merely suggested. In battle, I order. At Camelot, I suggest.”

She nodded. “Also that Gwen suggested that the men pay her for her services.”

“We have always encouraged all of our people to offer services for pay.” He waved a hand. “Should a person provide a special service, should he or she not be awarded for such? Seems only fair. There must be a name for such a practice, but I know not what it would be.”

“In my land it is called capitalism.”

“I have ne’er heard of such, but any word will do.”

“Whatever. I thank you and Gwen for promoting capitalism. It honestly makes your men and women work harder at their tasks, and be rewarded.”

“I would like to hear your suggestions of how to bring more of this capitalism into the workings of the castle.”

“Right now?”

“No, not at this very moment. At this moment I would very much enjoy hearing more tales of you.”

She shook her head. “I have blabbed on too far. You must reciprocate. Tell me something about you.” She grinned. “Something you haven’t told another soul.”

He laughed and then took another drink of wine. “I must say that I know not much of what you say. You use words I have ne’er heard. Yet I enjoy attempting to puzzle them out by the words that surround them.”

Isabel felt a buzz run down her body, and she knew it had nothing to do with the wine. “I try at times to speak as you, but forget to at times.”

“Please do not try. I am much enamored by who you are and how you speak. And the workings of your mind. And your beauty. And—”

“Stop! I appreciate the flattery, Arthur, but it embarrasses me.”

“And your caring heart,” Arthur said, with a grin. “And I could go on, but now I will stop.” He refilled both of their goblets, although she’d barely put a dent in her own to begin with. But she didn’t protest. She was too freakin’ happy just to be with him.

Merlin is happy, Arthur and Isabel. He is still in a deep sleep, but he smiles as well.

Arthur frowned. “Did you hear that?”

Isabel didn’t know whether to say yes or no.

“Hear what?” she asked, deciding noncommittal was the way to go.

“About Merlin?”

“Merlin?”

Arthur shook his head. “It must be my mind playing tricks.”

She tried to word her answer as best she could. She did not want Arthur thinking he was losing his marbles. “I think that when thoughts enter your mind, they are there for a reason. To ponder upon. At least, that’s how I find those types of voices in my head.”

Viviane, cut it out!

Sorry!

He sat back and said, “So tell me, Izzy, what would you like to know most about me? My first love?”

What she’d love to know most is how he looked totally naked. And whether he was as good a lover as his eyes and smile promised. But brazen hussy that she normally was, she wasn’t quite ready to blurt out those questions. Yet.

“I would love to know that story, but it’s not what I’d like to hear first. But I fear going too far.”

“Try me,” he said.

She hesitated. “I would like to know what your greatest passion is. What matters the most to you, Arthur?”

He took a few long minutes to answer, rubbing his beard. In the meantime Isabel took several sips of her wine, waiting for him to tell her all kinds of things. Like it was none of her freaking business, for one. Re-winning Gwen’s affection for another. Running out of the room before answering her for another.

Finally he said, “I have many of those. May I choose more than one?”

“Of course,” she said, swallowing a hiccup and fear. Fear of what, she wasn’t certain, but there was definitely fear hanging around her. A more benign question would have worked better.

“I want to secure the safety and happiness for all of Camelot. But I am much concerned that this is not going to be possible.”

“Why?”

“There be too many who want to bring us down. ’Tis why we are having this meeting of the knights from other realms. To unite against those dark forces.”

“Dumont is not one, Arthur. I promise you.”

His smile was grim. “I know that, Isabel. And I much appreciate the support you are offering.”

“I have men on their way, ready to defend you.”

That was a bunch of bullshit. She didn’t even know if she had men. But she was depending on the Lady to help her with that one.

“Your men have come already, Isabel. They are even now settling in.”

“They have?”

“You did not know?”

Get with the program, Isabel. Do you think I did not bring backup?

A little forewarning might have been nice.

You should recognize them easily, as they will look familiar to you. They are the entire football team of UO, but to make this rhyme Oklahoma U.

Holy shit, you did not take them away from—

Oh, can it, Isabel, they are mirror images as are Tom, Dick and Harry.

Isabel didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She wondered if the Sooner Schooner had carried some of them.

Yes, indeed. Now please get back to Arthur.

She swallowed. “They did, indeed, arrive ahead of schedule. My apologies if this is a burden for you.”

He laughed. “No burden at all. They have been nothing but a pleasure, according to James. They even brought something called a mas-cot.”

“Oh boy. They’ll have your men tailgating in no time.”

She saw his confusion and quickly shook her head. “I will have to go welcome them and thank them for coming shortly. But not before I hear what more you have to say.”

“To say?”

“Or maybe you don’t. I thought you had more than one passion.”

“Oh, yes. My passions.”

Once more he grinned in a way that truly made her melt and fire up at one and the same time. Something she had never felt before. Try to figure that one out, Dr. Phil.

“Yes, passions. We definitely need to get back on track here. I passionately want to keep peace between Gwen and me.”

Talk about your heart sinking straight to your toes. “I understand that, Arthur. And I believe you should. Salvaging your marriage should definitely be your first priority.”

Her necklace thumped.

“You misunderstand. I passionately want Gwen to be happy. That is not with me. She is much in love with Lance. I cannot stop them nor do I want to hurt them in this. Truly, I am most concerned that I cannot protect them as well as I need to do. I care about the two very much.”

“Even though they have—”

He leaned forward and put a hand to her lips. “They have followed their desires. Would I ask for a different outcome? Perhaps. But ’tis done, and cannot not be undone. Now I must secure their safety. And truth to tell, all will be well.”

Isabel ran her hand through her hair. “I honestly don’t understand.”

“’Twould be a horrid price both would pay if they are caught. I will try to guard against this to the best of my ability.”

“You are a good man, Arthur. With a big heart. We have a saying in my land. ‘What happens in Dumont, stays in Dumont.’ Unless you’re dumb enough to talk about it to every person you meet outside of Dumont.”

“I very much enjoy the thoughts of the people of Dumont.”

“As do I,” she said, which was a bit of a whopper of a lie, considering, hey, she didn’t know a single citizen of Dumont.

She took a last glug of her wine and stood. “Now perhaps I should go and greet my men.”

He took her hand. “You have not yet heard my third passion.”

“Maybe later, Arthur.”

“Please, it is short.”

She nodded and sat back down. In fact, she was ready to lie down. This drinking so early in the day was not good for her equilibrium. “Your third passion?”

He kept hold of her hand, running his thumb over her palm. For a moment he seemed to waver, but then he looked her straight in the eye. “To lie naked with you. To make love with you. To kiss you so passionately that ’twill make you dizzy. That is my third passion. And of the passions I have mentioned, ’twas not necessarily ordered properly. It just took me some time to build up the courage to voice this one.”

Thank the gods she was sitting, because sure as hell her knees would have caved on her. And for maybe the first time in her life, she was totally speechless.

They stared at one another for so long that the sun could have set and she wouldn’t have noticed.

Finally he broke the gaze and stood. “I should have not said such a thing. It was untoward.” He bowed. “My deepest apologies.”

Isabel grabbed his arm and pulled him closer as she stood, so they were face-to-face, body-to-body. “I bet you one of our horses that you cannot get me out of this contraption called a gown faster than Mary can.”

He grinned, then cupped her face. “Oh, Countess, how you underestimate me.”

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