"The underlying meaning, your Highness, is that they love you enough, they trust you enough to take such extreme measures. They know that you wil not punish them, because they trust that you care."

"Ah, mayhap the difference between my people and you. James and Mary, at least, trust that I care."

Isabel stared at him while she mental y pul ed the dagger out of her chest. "I never realized you had a cruel side, Arthur. It's good to know. It helps me so much in getting over you."

He strode over to her. "Isabel, I did not mean-"

"You touch me and I wil take out both your knees."

"Then take them," he said, grabbing hold of her shoulders. "Go. Do it. But I am going to hold on to you until you listen to me if I have need to I wil take you down with me when my legs become useless."

It was total y disgusting that his hands on her already had her body responding as if he were moving them al over her, not just holding on to her upper arms.

"I believe I have heard enough."

"No, you heard just enough to form conclusions. Incorrect conclusions, as it turns out. For a smart, compassionate woman, Isabel, I cannot understand how you would hear only part of my story and instantly believe the worst of me. Ye gods, woman, we had spent the evening together in the most intimate of ways. And yet not an hour later you shut me out. You closed your hearing and your mind. Were you already regretting what we shared?"

"No, but you said Gwen wanted ..."

"I know what I said, Isabel. I also know what you refused to al ow me to finish. Are you wil ing to al ow me the opportunity now?"

"I'm listening. I'm not ruling out the knee-kicking thing, but I'm listening."

"That is a start," he said, letting her go. He turned and walked two steps, then spun around and stepped right back to her. "What you ne'er al owed me to finish the other night was that I turned Gwen down. I do not want her any longer. I have not for some time. When she asked if we could try to go back, I said no, Isabel. I told her that now she was betraying not just me, but now Lance, as wel . I recovered from the pain. Truth be told, I fel for another. You. But I fear Lance would not. You saw him at the cottage. He was near to mindless with grief and anger and worry.

"I returned to you, because with you was where I wanted to be. And I wanted to talk it out with you. Do you honestly believe I would climb back into your bed furs to say to you that I had decided that we had fun, but alas, I had decided to start over with Gwen? Just how cruel do you believe me to be?"

Isabel stood, stunned. "Oh. My. God. You tried. And I didn't let you. I was so afraid that it was a farewel gesture that-"

"Shhh," he said, putting a finger to her lips. "I understand your upset and confusion, Isabel. Please remember how quickly I grew angry at the thought of you with other men. Add to that that I am stil married to Gwen, it is understandable why you would leap to that conclusion. Were the situation in the reverse, I fear I may have done the same."

"You are giving me an excuse, when I have none. No, you would not have done the same. You would have listened. But, Arthur, I was so afraid that what we had ..."

"I know, love, I know," he said as he pul ed her into his arms.

"Why are you so forgiving when I don't deserve it?"

He chuckled into her hair. "Perhaps because it is the kingly thing to do?"

"No, the kingly thing to do is tel ing people to do this, or people to do that."

"Then perhaps it is something a man does when he loves a woman."

"I'l take that one for a thousand, Alex."

He grinned, brushing her hair from her face as he kissed her temple, her forehead, her nose. "I know not what that even means, and I find I do not care. I know not who this Alex is, but I do not care. What matters most to me is that we clear this misunderstanding betwixt us."

"Oh, Arthur," she said, wrapping her arms around him, standing on tiptoe to rain kisses over his neck. "I am so very sorry."

"As am I. I am certain that there should have been a much better way to relate the events." He smiled down at her. "Okay, I fibbed. I am curious as to what you wil trade for a thousand whate'ers. And who this Alex is."

"It is a game we play at home. It is a reverse thing. You, the player, wil be given the answer, and then you wil formulate what the question would be."

"Pardon?"

"Exactly. Although actual y it would be, 'What is pardon?' "

He shook his head. "I am baffled, love."

"For example, someone would say, 'The land that King Arthur loves passionately.' Then you would respond, 'What is Camelot?' "

"This is a game you play in Dumont?"

"Yes."

"Okay then," he said. "I believe I understand the rules."

She laughed. "Okay, the answer is, 'The woman who is crazy about King Arthur.' What is the question?"

"I am hoping the question is, 'Who is Countess Isabel?'"

"Correct!"

"Then I have one for you."

"Lay it on me, big boy."

"The kingly thing Arthur is about to tel his woman-as is his right, mind you, as kingly matter involve tel ing you to do that and you to do this-to do."

"What is take off the king's kingly clothes?"

"Not exactly the one I was going for, but it very much works for me, Isabel. So I wil give you a correct on that one."

Isabel went to work obeying his kingly command. "You know, every once in a while there is more than one right response."

"Good. My question was, 'What is al ow the king to help the countess in taking off her clothes?'"

"See, more than one right response," she said.

MARY and James walked down the hal hand in hand, both grinning. "We may be in so much trouble," Mary said.

"Did you hear a single thing shatter?"

"I did not."

"Then I believe we are safe," James said.

"Isabel would ne'er hurt me. I am certain. No matter the outcome, good or bad, she wil forgive me. But King Arthur?"

"Would ne'er hurt you, Mary. Nor me."

She stared up at her giant of a future husband. "How do you know?"

"Because he is the kindest man I have e'er met. He is tough in the battle training, no question. But always, always fair to al . No matter the outcome, he wil most assuredly forgive us for he wil realize our good intentions."

"Then we did okay."

"We did better than okay. Last I heard they were sharing laughter."

Mary stopped James. "There is a ritual in Isabel's land where you celebrate success."

"What is it?"

"It is cal ed a high five." She held up her palm and waited for him to fol ow suit. He stood looking confused.

"Hold up your hand!"

He did, and Mary smacked it, grinning. "High five!"

"What does this mean?"

"It is a sign of success. I am guessing that the two are making up as we speak."

James grinned down at his love. He held up his palm. She looked at him curiously but smacked palms with him.

"High five," she said. "What was that one for?"

"For my luck that the lady I love returns those feelings. And that I wil soon be the happiest husband alive."

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE.

AT the sound of the knock, Gwen glanced up from her bed to find the countess standing there, looking quite beautiful in a wine-colored gown.

In comparison, Gwen knew she most likely appeared pale and disheveled and that this bed gown was not at al flattering. "Please," she said, running her fingers through her hair, "enter."

Isabel stepped into the room and that was when Gwen realized Isabel was holding some sort of black garment in her hand. "How are you feeling this morning, Gwen?"

"I believe somewhat better," Gwen said. Which was a bit of a lie. In truth, other than a lingering tenderness in her chest, she felt just fine. However, as long as she was abed, she knew that Arthur would continue to visit her, and she might have time to change his mind.

'Twas not that she had stopped loving Lance. Truth was, she loved him desperately. But she feared the loss of her husband just as desperately.

She was being so very selfish, she knew. And deep inside she felt such shame. But since she had been so very young when Arthur had courted and then married her, she knew no other life. And fear of the unknown was a powerful thing.

"What have you there?" she asked, nodding at Isabel's hands.

"We'l visit that in a moment. I spoke with Tom this morning as we broke fast. He tel s me that he sees no reason why you are not up and about by now."

"What business is it of yours?"

"Probably none. But the day-to-day running of Camelot is your business. And your servants are feeling lost without your steadying presence. They are concerned and confused. They need you, Gwen."

"You know this how?"

"During our daily recesses I hear things."

Gwen sat up further in her bed. "You have continued with the recesses without my consent?"

"You were in no shape to give consent."

"Does Arthur know about this?"

"He does. He has no objections. But the point is, your people miss you, Gwen. It would do them a world of good to see you up and about."

"Why has Arthur not voiced this opinion?"

"Because he is concerned for your health. He is not a healer. He doesn't know that, for whatever reason, you are staying abed long after you have needed to do so."

"But you do."

"Wel , Tom does."

"My chest is stil quite sore, and I hear I have you to thank for that."

"You're welcome."

"I did not mean that in a nice way."

"I knew that. I recognize sarcasm when I hear it."

Gwen knew she was being petty. In fact, she was aware that if not for this woman's ministrations, she might not have survived. She lowered her eyes. "I am so sorry. That was mean."

"No apologies necessary. I understand that il ness tends to make people not themselves. You are a very nice woman, Gwen, with a big heart. I ...

we ... that is Tom does not understand why you are not itching to get out of that bed and get back to the business of being queen."

"Why does this matter to you?"

"Because I hate to see your servants worry. They feel adrift without their queen's guiding hand."

"I wil consider what you say. However, I would like to hear the same from Arthur's lips."

"Arthur is not going to demand that you get up. He also has his hands ful preparing for the meeting of the knights. But he could certainly use your help in that matter."