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hedge, but
her cloak billowed out behind her, catching on the branches and then whipping
her legs with each gust of wind.
    “Henry?”
she whispered. “Henry, are you here?”
    The
only response was the rustling of leaves and the bleating of goats in Henry’s
barn. The wind died down for a few seconds, and she heard the soft thumping and
snorting from Henry’s favorite horse, Quicken, in the stable. The horse poked
his head out the stable door and chewed his food.
    Isabelle
headed toward Quicken to pet him while she waited for Henry to come outside.
She didn’t dare go to the back door for fear of her father seeing her
silhouette entering the Vestin homestead. Quicken snorted again into her hand
as she rubbed his long snout. She spoke soothing words to him and glanced over
her shoulder.
    She
saw movement in the hedge and covered her mouth. Had her father followed her?
Isabelle flattened herself against the wall of the stable. The shadow in the
hedge became more pronounced and a figure in a dark cloak emerged.
    “Henry?”
she asked, recognizing the clothing instantly. She abandoned the stable and ran
across the grass until her arms were around him. Henry hugged her tightly in
return, and the scent of pine and other types of wood filled her. She
associated his scent with so many good things that it made her feel at home.
    He
let out a breath of relief as he gave her an extra squeeze. “You gave me a
start. What were you doing?”
    “Waiting
for you. What kept you?”
    “I
saw the light in Norbin’s window only a moment ago. We must have reached the
hedge at the same time and missed each other.” Henry’s voice was low and his
eyes lacked that spark of life Isabelle normally saw in them. Her stomach
filled with hot guilt.
    “Henry,
what happened today was my—”
    “It
was I who lost my temper, not you.”
    “No,
please, you need to listen. My mother told me she’d made a deal with my father
to convince him to accept your terms for marrying me. She gave me her blessing
to encourage you to speak to him. My father changed his mind.”
    “I
changed his mind. I offended him.” A sudden sound made them both jump until they
realized it was a bird fluttering to a nearby tree. “Now I don’t know what to
do.” The defeat in his voice chilled Isabelle more than the gusts of wind. “I
fear what your father may do to me if he finds us together. I fear even more
what he’d do to you. What good am I? I can’t even stand up to an old man.”
    Isabelle
cupped his face with both hands. She kissed him and fixed her light brown eyes
on his blue ones. “You have proven to me more than once that while your
strength isn’t in the sword, you are still strong and capable of protecting me.
I’m scared, too. I’m scared of not being with you.” The moon reflected its
light in Henry’s eyes, and Isabelle thought he looked majestic.
    The
door behind them opened, and Maggie came out the back door to pump water. She
wore a pretty market dress. Isabelle thought it made her face appear more
elegant and her deep brown, almost black, curls shine more brightly. Among the
local men, Maggie was considered quite a prize. Her even, white teeth and thin
red lips complemented her petite face and frame well. However, she consistently
rejected offers of courtship. Maggie claimed it was because she had no interest
at the moment, but Isabelle believed Maggie refused to be married before Henry.
    “I
think she’s spying on us,” Henry whispered.
    “Let
her.” Isabelle kissed Henry again.
    Henry
grimaced as they pulled away. “I want to say something of comfort, but I don’t
know the words. Part of me wants to hold you as tightly as I can before your
father wrenches you away from me.”
    The
wind carried a distant voice to Isabelle’s ears. It belonged to Ruther. In her
mind’s eye, she could imagine Henry’s friend strolling down the street, swaying
gently to the tunes he sang and drinking from his leather flask. Almost on cue,
she