Goddess of Legend (Goddess Summoning #7)(78)

He grinned down at her. "I have yet to figure a thousand what. However, I just won them."

"For a thousand. I really, truly want to hear it from your lips."

"Who is the woman Arthur loves and desires beyond all others?"

"Oh, that is so correct. Double bonus for you."

"Tonight, then, Isabel?"

"Oh, yes, please."

As he left the room, she heard him say, "I do hope your toes have dried by now, Mary. And yours as well, Gwen."

"WE must move up the date of your wedding, Mary," Isabel said, even as she was getting over total embarrassment. Good gods, they had been right outside of the door. Both, however returned as if they had heard nothing. And then the three of them looked at each other, and once again could not contain their humor. They laughed, but then sobered when she said, "The women of Camelot . . . and guests such as myself," she added, nodding to Gwen, "need to prepare to protect the men. I have a plan. Or a partial one. We need to scheme, and we need to involve all of the servants to pull it off."

She held up her hand. "Are we in?"

"I am," Mary said, joining hands.

"As am I," said Gwen, clasping both of her hands around theirs.

"Good, because, Gwen, to pull this off, I need you to put on that crown and use it for all it's worth."

"Consider it donned."

"Good. Mary, how would you like to marry James day after tomorrow?"

Mary's eyes widened. "Are you jesting?"

"No. Your dress is ready, is it not?"

"It is."

"I can take care of the feast," Isabel said. "Gwen, you have such a touch with flowers and decoration. You can make the hall lovely, I trust."

"Oh, yes."

"Excellent. Tomorrow, I fear, game time is going to be spent airing out those rushes and scrubbing the great hall. When Mary and James exchange vows, it is going to smell like spring, not like a sty."

They both nodded. "Mary, I fear you are going to have to work tomorrow. James needs a haircut, and so does Arthur."

"And Lance," Gwen said.

"And Lance. Although I must say he looks kind of cute shaggy," Isabel said.

Gwen smiled while still admiring her toes. "Yes, he does. Yet a trim could not hurt."

Chapter Twenty-Three

"M'LADY," a man said as he passed Isabel in the great hall, where she was on her knees, scrubbing the floor.

She glanced up, down, up, down, then up again. "James?"

He stopped, his face, free of hair, went a little red. "Yes, Countess."

She jumped up, pulling his burly self around to face her. "James! Oh, good gods, look at you!"

"I am not able to do that, Countess, as I am looking at you."

She laughed and wiped her brow. "Why in the world have you been hiding that handsome face behind so much . . . fur?"

"I . . . Countess, are you jesting? I feel almost disrobed."

"Holy smokes, James," Isabel said, truly shocked. Without all of that hair, he looked like a young Clooney, albeit beefier. About a foot taller. And way better. "Why have you been hiding your good looks? I mean, truly."

She was sincerely almost at a loss for words.

"I did not know I was doing such. But I appreciate it, Countess. Yet right now I feel as a newborn babe," he said, rubbing his jaw.

"Mary takes no prisoners."

"Oh, she does indeed. Right now her prisoner is the king."

She smiled. "Now I see what Mary has always seen. What a lucky bride to have such a handsome groom."

"I am the lucky one, Countess." He glanced around. "And her toes are pretty," he whispered.

"As is she."

He got a moony look on his face. "She is. I cannot thank you enough for the kindness you have shown her. She is very excited about this gown."

"She is the best kind of friend, James. I am guessing she will be that much of a friend to you, as well as your life mate."

He rubbed at his eyes. "We cannot thank you enough for your generosity."

"All I want is for the two of you to be happy. I would plant a kiss on your cheek, if I had a ladder that would help me get up there."

He surveyed the room again, and then said, "A kiss from a countess would be an honor."

He bent down and she kissed his cheek. "All good wishes, James."

"All good wishes to you and my king, Countess. I have feelings, and I know this feeling is right. You are meant for one another. As Mary and I are."

He strode away before she could utter a single word.

She shook her head and went back to scrubbing the floor. Gwen was out with several servants, all of them beating the rushes to, she hoped, a merciful death.

Although Gwen had sworn she had a formula to also relieve their miserable selves from stinking.

"Isabel!"

She nearly fell over from the shock. She looked up, and there was Arthur, clean-cut and gorgeous. "Wow," she said, standing up. "You, sir, are the most handsome king I have ever seen in my life."

"And how many kings have you seen exactly?" he asked.

None, other than Arthur of course. "Naked, you mean? That would be one."