Page 43 of The Tailor's Treasure

"We can't impose," she hedged."And surely you've no cradle to hand."It was a weak excuse and she knew it, but she had to at least make a show of trying.

"I do, in fact," Constance said."Or a cot, rather - but it will serve well enough, for a child of his age.Matilda gave it to us when we were first wed - she hoped we'd have children of our own soon."Her smile was ironic, but Isabel could detect a tinge of wistfulness in it as well."We keep it under the bed upstairs.He can sleep up there - Peter can keep an eye on him and call down for you if he wakes in the night."

Isabel looked down at Walter.Now that his belly was full, he was half-dozing in her arms, his head listing to one side; she doubted he would stay awake much longer.She knew from experience that he was likely to sleep until morning once she'd settled him, and Peter was good with him, besides.Still, it would be the first time in his short life that he passed a night further than a few feet away from her.They would both survive it, certainly; but that didn't mean she wouldn't be up half the night, sick with worry.And what if he woke, and it was dark and he was in a strange bed, and she wasn't there?He would be scared out of his wits.

Constance must have read some of her reticence in her face, for she touched her arm gently."Peter has a bell," she said, "that he rings for Jack or I, if we don't hear him calling.He'll be able to summon you, if Walter needs you.And Matilda's little ones have slept up there before without incident.They seemed to see it as a grand adventure."

Isabel did not quite doubt that, but shediddoubt that the children in question were of an age with Walter at the time.Walter wasn't even old enough to conceive of a grand adventure, much less view a night under an unfamiliar roof as such.But still - where else was he going to sleep?On the floor in Constance's room?Would she build him a nest out of blankets and hope that served?That would surely make for a worse night's sleep than a proper cot would.Besides, it wasn't as if he'd never slept apart from her at all; he napped often at Matthew and Elizabeth's, when he stayed there for an afternoon, and Elizabeth had never reported any problems.Between the two of them, Isabel was the one who was struggling: she simply had to get past it.

"Very well, then," she said, and took another bite of her supper."Will you show me to the cot, when we've finished our meal?"

Once supper was over, Constance took her upstairs to Peter's room.Peter himself seemed entirely unsurprised by her presence, and it occurred to her that Constance had already discussed the matter with him when she'd gone up earlier.She and Peter acted so little like husband and wife, it always came as a surprise when Isabel remembered that they were five years wed, and had known each other a long time before that.Constance pulled the cot out from under the bed - it was big, bigger by far than Walter's cradle, but at least that meant he wasn't likely to roll over the side - and already made up with blankets.Isabel sat on the edge, Walter in her lap, and crooned to him while he looked up at her with wide, anxious eyes.Her singing, which normally soothed him within minutes, seemed to be having no effect: he whined and leaned as far as he could out of her arms, trying to squirm out and onto the floor.

"A long day indeed," Constance murmured.When Isabel looked, she had settled herself cross-legged on the floor, her chin propped on one hand."I find myself in sympathy."

"He can tell I'm worried," Isabel said, feeling herself flush.She ought to be able to hide her nerves better than this, but her arms were stiff and her shoulders tensed, and she didn't doubt that was behind Walter's fussiness."It frightens him."

Constance held her arms out."May I?"

Carefully - it would not be the first time Walter executed a sudden, energetic flip out of her grasp - Isabel passed her son to Constance.Constance settled him in the crook of her arms, tapping him lightly on the nose."There now, little miting," she said."You'll sleep well on all these pillows, won't you?And on a great bed, like a growing boy ought to."She swayed gently from side to side, singing almost too quietly for Isabel to hear.She recognized the tune:lullay, lullay my lovely, one she sang often to settle Walter on stormy nights.She'd sung it to Matthew as well, when they were children; she had vague memories of her own mother singing it to her in her turn.She hadn't realized Constance knew it.She'd always thought of it as a sort of secret only mothers knew.

Walter fussed a little when Constance first took him, but he calmed quickly, watching her face with wide eyes.He glanced at Isabel, who offered a reassuring smile, and that seemed to be the last piece required to quiet him.His eyelids began to droop; the first few times, he forced them back open, fighting sleep, but it was a losing battle.After a few minutes, his head tilted to the side, coming to rest on Constance's breast, and his breathing grew slow and even.Constance went on singing and rocking, moving seamlessly from one song to the next -blow northern wind, send me my sweeting- without stopping for breath.

Behind Isabel, Peter leaned down to speak softly in her ear."She has a soft touch for little ones," he said."She always has."

Isabel nodded, blinking rapidly.The sight of her son in Constance's arms was shifting something inside her, pulling at old wounds even as it healed them.It had only been her and Walter for so long - even in the first months of his life, when Geoffrey had been alive, he'd taken no interest in his son.The only help she'd had had been a nursemaid, who had been surly and bad-tempered more often than not, and who Isabel had sent away after Geoffrey died.In some ways, she had preferred raising Walter by herself: certainly, she'd been glad of the lack of interference from her husband.But there had been times, late at night, when she paced the room with a screaming infant in her arms, that she'd wished for someone who could come and take him from her and settle him when she couldn't seem to manage it.She had never envisioned a true partner, one who loved her and Walter both.But now, seated between Peter and Constance, watching her son be lulled to sleep in Constance's arms and knowing there was no one in this house who meant them ill or would snatch Walter away from her, she felt a warm blanket of love and safety settle around her shoulders.

She'dwantedthis.In some unutterable way that even she had not been aware of, she'd wanted it.And now, here it was.

Constance finished her last song and rose up onto her knees, careful not to jostle Walter as she shifted him onto the cot.He went without any sign of waking, sighing in his sleep and rolling over to curl up on his side once he was fully situated on the pallet.Isabel leaned over and pulled the blanket up to his shoulders, tucking it in at the sides so that he couldn't thrash himself out of bed if he had a nightmare.In the candlelight, his face was rosy and peaceful, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek.Isabel could not resist bending to press a kiss to the crown of his head; he murmured in his sleep at it, but did not wake.

"Shall we?"When she looked up, Constance was holding out a hand to her.Part of her wanted to stay where she was, and go on soaking up the feeling of safety their little tableau had given her.But the other part wanted to take Constance's hand and go downstairs with her, and do - whatever it was they were going to do next.The thought of sharing a bed with her -reallysharing a bed, sleeping side by side all through the night and waking in the morning to the sight of each others' faces - plucked at her nerves, but it also produced a restless, shifting sense of excitement.She took Constance's hand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.

"I'll call you if he wakes," Peter said.Isabel paused long enough to look over her shoulder and nod to him, hoping that the gesture encompassed the sea of relief and gratitude that she had been floating in for the past half-hour, and then followed Constance down the stairs.

Constance held a reed lamp in her free hand, which was the only thing that lit their way: it was still too early in the spring for the sun to be visible past Vespers.Even if it had been later in the season, it wouldn't have mattered, for the storm still raging outside blocked any ray of light that might otherwise have peeked through.Isabel followed Constance through the main room, pausing to ensure the front door was securely barred - it was - and then on into the bedchamber.

Isabel stood by the door, resisting the urge to wring her hands as Constance went to set the lamp down beside the bed.There was no rational reason for her to be nervous; she and Constance had already seen and touched each other so intimately, what was left to be exposed?But it didn't feel that way.It felt as if she had been slowly creeping up to the very edge of a cliff, and this was the last moment before she stepped out into empty air, to either fly or fall.Was this to be her lot in life forever?Always cringing away from the next challenge, afraid that she would be unable to rise to the occasion?She couldn't bear that.

"What -" Her voice came out weak and raspy.She cleared her throat and tried again."What do you want?"

Constance turned to look at her.The lamp was behind her, which meant that her face was cast in shadow, and Isabel could not read her expression.She dearly wished she could.The urge to wring her hands was almost overpowering.

"Just you," Constance said.The words would have rocked Isabel back on her heels, if she hadn't already been standing against the door."If you're willing."

"I am - willing," she said slowly."But I don't know if I'm able."

Constance shifted a little to the side, so that she was now standing beside the lamp instead of in front of it.It meant Isabel could now see her face properly, and she wondered if Constance had done that on purpose.If she'd once again somehow divined something Isabel had not been able to articulate herself.Her face was serious, but her eyes were soft.

"I'd like to see you," she said."To start.Is that - can you?"

Isabel could not summon a single word to say in response.Instead, she reached up and fumbled with the laces of her kirtle, unknotting them and then pulling until the bodice slid down around her waist.That was easy, at least: she'd done as much in this room before.She pushed at the kirtle until it pooled at her feet, then stepped out in just her shift.She bent and picked the kirtle up, folding it neatly and setting it aside.Then she bent and untied her garters, rolling her hose down and off and setting them on top of the kirtle.The shift was the only thing left to be removed, and then she would be entirely naked.That was new; she had only bared herself to the waist, the last time.

She looked back at Constance.Her face had not changed, not notably - but there was a hunger in her eyes that she had not quite managed to disguise.Isabel swallowed hard."You're still dressed."

Constance started and looked down at herself, as if she had previously been so unaware of her own body, she hadn't realized it was clothed.Her own undressing was more careless than Isabel's: she pulled her kirtle off over her head and tossed it aside, then did the same with her shift before she untied and stripped off her hose.It was the work of seconds, and it left her standing nude in the lamplight.To Isabel's eyes, it almost looked as if she was glowing.

Isabel took in the sight as a pit of hunger opened somewhere deep inside her.She'd seen Constance undressed the last time, obviously, but they'd both been more than a little distracted then.Now, there was nothing keeping her from raking her eyes over Constance's body, taking in the swell of her hips - she remembered how her hands fit there, the yielding softness of her flesh when she squeezed - the softness of her stomach, the way her nipples had hardened in the chill of the room, the faint blush colouring her cheeks.How strong her legs looked, how they'd felt when Isabel had ground down against them.The broad, freckled expanse of her shoulders, all the dimples she could kiss.Her mouth was watering.