She felt his chest heave slightly. "Yea, I do. You would have to invoke that at this time."

"I invoke it, King Arthur, every single time."

"And should I, perhaps, invoke an 'I care not to talk about it right now'?"

"It would be so unkingly."

His chest rumbled with laughter. "How so, Countess?"

"Because kings face troubles head-on. They do not avoid them by slipping in bed with countesses, who are busy not doing countess things."

"What were you busy doing?"

"Dreaming about kingly things."

"Good dreams?"

"You are avoiding the question, and that is so very unkingly."

"You are not naked enough, and that is so uncountessy."

She pul ed away from his embrace and sat up. "Arthur. What is it?"

He sat up as wel , brushing his hands through his hair. Al least she thought so. The lighting was a little iffy.

"When I returned to my bedchamber, Gwen was waiting for me."

"Oh, good! She's feeling better."

"I suppose that depends on your perspective."

"Oh, bad. That sounds bad," Isabel said, reaching over to the cup of mint by her bed and grabbing a fingerful.

"She believes I am having an affair."

Isabel sighed. "Yo, Arthur, you are in my bed."

"She wants us to reunite."

Isabel didn't know how a truly broken heart felt until that very moment. "Oh, I see." She tried to gather her senses, which had scattered to the winds. "Wel , then, I guess that's that. I wish you wel . Now get the hel out of my bed."

Arthur leaned over and scratched something over something and suddenly the candle beside her bed came to life.

It wasn't University of Oklahoma stadium-light il umination, but they were able to see each other.

"Please, Arthur, go back to your wife."

"Do you honestly believe I would be here if that had been my choice?"

"I'm guessing that you came to tel me the news."

"I climbed into your bed to say good-bye?"

"Wel , that was kind of weird, but I can believe it. You have a sweet heart."

"Oh, Isabel, do you truly think that of me?"

"Arthur, I no longer know what to think of anything. You have been in love with Gwen for so long."

He stood up. "I came to tel you, nay, show you how I feel. You did not even give me the chance to finish. You wrote the ending to this story afore I could ful y explain."

"Arthur."

He shook his head as he moved to the door. "No, Isabel. I came here for help and guidance and comfort. Instead you handed me judgment. I am so sick of this." He turned and looked at her. "I was here because you were my choice. There was no question or doubt. Minutes ago I would have given my life for you. I am such a fool. Not very kingly, is it?"

"Arthur."

"Sleep wel , Countess."

CHAPTER TWENTY.

"WE must do something," Mary whispered to James. "There is something terribly wrong with my lady. She is teaching us this CPR thing and demanding we be al owed to have what she cal s recess each day, but she is very much not herself."

"And my lord," James said. "He is working us harder than e'er, and his temper is short. We are mostly afraid to utter a word, when afore he asked us to speak up at al times. I have ne'er seen him slice through anything set before him as he does now."

"We must formulate a plan," Mary said.

"Yes. Yet I cannot think of one."

"Leave it to me, James. But I wil need your assistance to put it in play."

James smiled at his bride-to-be. "I love you so much, Mary. I cannot wait to make you my bride."

She grinned back at him. "And I cannot wait to cal you husband. But if our vows are to be perfect, we must needs fix this rift between the king and the countess. They are standing up for us."

"Yes."

Mary suddenly jumped up and James caught her. "What?"

"Our vows! Our vows! The king is an honorable man and the countess is such a priceless lady. Our vows!"

"I am sorry if I am not quite fol owing your logic, Mary."

"No need. I wil let you know what needs be done when I have it al in place."

"I trust that you wil ." He held her close, but not too hard. He had once hugged her so tightly that she had cried out. 'Twould never, ever happen again. "We wil be happy together. This I do vow."

She laid her head into his neck. "We have a very long lifetime for you to continue to prove it true."

"I very much look forward to it."

As the days passed, there was progress, although, it seemed, not with Gwen. She laid abed and had continuous complaints.

But her seamstresses had finished many breeches, and Isabel had coaxed the women into taking possession and actual y wearing them. At least for that hour when they were set free to play.

This morning Isabel had decided to teach them how to play a primitive form of putt-putt golf. The women were happily whacking away when Mary came running to her, tears streaming down her face.

"What is it, Mary?" she asked.

"I am afraid my vows with James are off."

"What? Why?"

Mary looked around. "May we go elsewhere? Some privacy?"

Jenny, Gwen's chambermaid, walked over and asked, "May I help?"

As diplomatical y as she could, Isabel said, "Yes, please. If you would oversee the rest of recess?"

Mary sniffled. "I need Countess Isabel."

Jenny nodded. "Of course. I wil be happy to take over for the rest of the hour, Countess."

"Teach them to get the freakin' stones in the holes. That's the goal. Stones in the holes."

"Yes, Countess."

She turned and focused on Mary. "Now tel me, please, what happened."

Mary swiped away the tears. "May we please go to your chambers to talk?"

"Of course."

Isabel tried questioning Mary as they ascended the stairs, but Mary kept shaking her head. Isabel figured Mary wanted complete privacy, which she understood, knowing that Mary had been shunned by many of her peers, lately.

Mary pul ed her into her own room, almost shoved her farther, and then kicked the door closed.

"What happened, Mary? Let me help. Maybe you and James can talk this through. You love him. You have told me as much. He treats you like gold. What went wrong?"

Mary's tears dried up as if she were facing the sun in the Mojave. "If James and I are to exchange vows happily, Isabel, then we need those standing witness to be happy as wel ."

"I'm sorry? Mary, I don't understand."

Mary stuck two fingers in her mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle. She smiled at Isabel and said, "Tom taught me that when he was doing my teeth-cleaning."

Isabel was considering how she was going to punish her friend when her door flew open and James entered, dragging a blindfolded Arthur in his wake.

"James, this has become not my favorite prank," Arthur said. "I went along, but now this might have gone a bit far."

Isabel glanced at Mary. "Traitor," she whispered.

Mary shrugged.

James pul ed the blindfold from around Arthur's head. Arthur blinked and looked around. As soon as he spotted Isabel and Mary, he glared at James. "Traitor."

James shrugged.

James and Mary, looking so immensely pleased with themselves, banded together.

"You two are standing up for us during our vows in just days," James said. "And you wil , and I mean wil , be happy at our ceremony."

"James," Arthur began.

James held up his beefy hand. "You know, King Arthur, that I am loyal to you. I wil run with you into battle, and I wil protect you until my dying breath."

"And you, Countess Isabel," Mary said. "You have become a friend such as I may never know again. I would stand afore you in any situation where someone would do you harm."

"But we are tired," James said, taking up the apparent narrative, "of your surliness of late. As you have been avoiding one another as the plague the past days, we can only surmise that there are ... are ..."

"Issues," Mary finished. "Those which need be aired and addressed. You wil ," she said, pointing back and forth between the two, "fix these problems afore our marriage vows."

"Whate'er happened betwixt the two of you," James said.

"Get over it!" they yel ed in unison.

With that, the two huffed their way out of the room, slamming the door shut behind them with a decided bang.

Isabel and Arthur stared at each other for several moments, and then broke out in laughter.

"I believe we have both just been spanked by our parents," Isabel gasped.

"I'm feeling decidedly unkingly," Arthur said. "Just when did I lose control?"

"No," she said, stil laughing. "It shows just what a great king you are."

"Surely, you jest," he said. "My first man just berated me."

Oh, how Isabel wanted to say, "Don't cal me Shirley." But somehow she was fairly certain the joke would not translate.

"Don't you realize how excel ent this is?" she asked.

"Perhaps I do not recognize the underlying meaning behind two servants giving their king a dressing down, as it were."