ISABEL finished off her cognac and also set the glass down before saying, "Lancelot? He sat at our table tonight. Correct? He seemed like a nice enough child."

"Ha!" Arthur barked. "Yes, indeed, he's a nice enough child. He is also the most skilled fighter I have e'er known. All he needed was guidance. I believed. In my dealings with him, I felt like he was the son I had always wanted, the son I never . . . was able to mold. I asked him to come to Camelot to be part of the men who would secure us."

"He has obviously accepted."

"He has." Arthur shut his eyes, then opened then again. Looking clearly and deeply into hers. "He has also secured the love of my wife. He has assured to help defend and secure Camelot. He swore his fealty. However, it has become painfully obvious that his loyalties have . . . shifted."

"Has he, then, betrayed you? Is he now a threat to Camelot?" This feigning ignorance was getting tough. "And if so, why do you still invite him to your table?"

"A threat to Camelot, no. I have no doubt that he would be the first into battle, should it, heaven forbid, ever come to that. And I am certain he never meant to betray me."

"But he has."

Arthur looked down at the ground, almost as if he couldn't face her as he whispered, "I feel, to my soul, that he wishes to be true to me. But I am certain, in my heart, that he . . . has fallen in love with Gwen."

"Uh-oh. And Gwen?"

"I believe she returns his love."

"Has she said as much?"

"No, no, of course not."

"Have you asked?"

"I have not been able to bring myself to confront her. If the truth is spoken, the consequences are grave. A queen's unfaithfulness to her husband and king is considered treason, and is punishable by death."

"Wow. Does she happen to be aware of that little bylaw?"

Arthur opened his mouth to answer, but then a rustling in the garden behind them stopped him short. He put a finger to his lips, then mouthed, "Stay here." He then stood and silently treaded farther down the garden path.

Isabel watched him go, her heart drumming as he disappeared into the shadows. If there was someone spying on them and they had overheard, the consequences would be huge. Too huge for Isabel to want to contemplate. She grasped her teardrop necklace, wondering if this was one of those times where she should put the powers it held into play.

But she thought of Viviane's warning. There were repercussions for its use, and she didn't even want to think of just what those might be. If she banished the intruder, what would she, or they, face as punishment?

Fear not, Isabel, this one's on me. Arthur must needs to bare his sorrow to thee.

Oh, thank you, thank you, Viviane! You are a peach!

She heard a soft chuckle in her head. Then a thought occurred to her.

Hey, wait a minute. Are you watching and listening like, all the time? I mean, I haven't decided my path, but should it take me . . . a little or a lot closer to Arthur . . .

Isabel, I am a Goddess. I have seen and heard it all, but I give my word not to witness, should the clothing start to fall.

"That's a relief," Isabel murmured.

"What is, m'lady?" Arthur asked.

Isabel nearly jumped a foot. He'd returned as silently as he'd left. "Oh!"

He smiled down at her. "My apologies. I ne'er meant to startle you."

"I . . . I was just worried for your safety. You are unarmed."

"'Twas just but a rabbit. No need for concern."

Isabel had to wonder what it had been before Viviane intervened.

Arthur sat again, but then looked at her and stroked her cheek with his knuckles. She barely stifled a moan of pleasure.

"I am sorry to have unburdened my private troubles upon you, Isabel."

"Believe me, your concerns and heartache are safe with me. I feel honored you felt you could trust them to me. Although I must admit that I am so sorry that such an honorable man is having to deal with all of this."

"Not dealing well, I fear."

"Talk to her, Arthur. Tell her how you feel. Allow her at least to give an explanation. Perhaps there is nothing to your suspicions. Or perhaps this will jolt her into realizing the seriousness of her actions, and promise to stop this thing before anything horrible happens to any of you."

He nodded. "You are very wise, Countess Isabel. And I thank you for your ear and your thoughts."

"You are very welcome, Arthur. I do hope that things work out for all of us . . . I mean, you."

"You have had a long, tiring day, and I have kept you far too late into the night. Perhaps you would like to retire to your chamber?"

"I'm far from tired, Arthur, but if you would like to hit the hay, I understand."

He shook his head, chuckling. "Betimes I feel that we speak different languages. I assure you that the beds in the upper chambers are made of down and very comfortable. At least I hope you find yourself comfortable."

Images of them testing the comfort of the bed together bloomed bright in her mind. And by the glitter in his eyes, she had the feeling they were pretty much on the same page, fantasy-wise.

Isabel cleared her throat. "And are you ready to retire, sir king?"

"I feel as if I could talk to you the entire night, Isabel. Why is that, do you think?"

Now how did she answer that? Because we wanted to jump each other from the moment our eyes met? She opted for a more demure response. "I believe, sir, that we have much in common. Many would envy our stations in life, but truly, it is often lonely at the top." Oh, Lord, did she just say that? "What I mean is, we understand one another."

"You are a good woman, Countess."

"Besides," she said, trying to bring back a little levity, "on the ride to Camelot you laughed at all of my knock-knock jokes."

He had the most heart-thumping grin. "I ne'er heard such things afore. I must say that I would most enjoy to travel to Dumont some day. It must be a happy place."

How the hell would she know? "Laughter is the best medicine," she said, then nearly groaned. Platitudes were pouring out of her mouth at an alarming rate. Some shrink she'd make. "You and the queen are welcome at my castle anytime."

His eyes clouded, which reminded her of what they'd just been discussing.

She grabbed his hand. "My apologies, Arthur. You and your men are also welcome anytime. You can do the bachelor thing."

"The ba - "

"Never mind. What I mean to say is that my doors are always open to you." Did she have doors to open?

She swallowed another groan. Shoot me now before I choke on my own slippered foot.

"I thank you for the offer of hospitality. And shall most definitely take you up on your kind invitation one day."

They stared at each other for several heartbeats. During those silent seconds, Isabel knew exactly which road she was going to travel. Heaven help her.

She let go of his hand - albeit reluctantly. "Now before we retire, you have yet to answer my question, Arthur."

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