by Alexa Aston
The servant returned and she and Marcus ate their fill with what the girl brought to them.
“It’s nice to eat someone else’s cooking for a change,” she remarked.
He took her hand under the table and squeezed it. “You were a much better cook than Agatha ever could be.” He paused. “Will you want her and Peter to stay with us or do you think the Earl of Kinwick will be happy to have them return to his estate?”
Though Jessimond would enjoy having Agatha at Hartefield, she knew Peter would wish to remain with his family at Kinwick. One day, he would succeed his father as head blacksmith at the castle.
“I think that is a decision best made by the two of them together,” she said. “Selfishly, I would like them here, but it is something they must weigh and consider.”
Marcus sliced a bite of cheese and handed it to her. Jessimond sank her teeth into it.
“Oh, I am going to enjoy Hartefield’s cheese. This is so rich and creamy.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to explore the keep while I’m away. For now, though, I wish to keep our marriage plans a secret.”
“Why?” She was ready to shout the news from the treetops and was concerned that Marcus didn’t feel the same way.
“My father only passed this morning. With Lady Ailith and Mary fighting for their lives, I think it appropriate to wait before we announce our intentions.”
“Of course,” she said. She understood he needed time to mourn and that they must do what they could to help those who were ill. Jessimond was determined to do everything she could to ensure that Lady Ailith and her child lived.
“You can help care for Livia if you’d like,” he suggested. “She’ll be missing her mother. Herleva, who is in charge of our servants, has made sure to keep the child away so she won’t become ill.”
“I’d enjoy that,” Jessimond said. “I adore children.”
He smiled. “I know you have experience raising them. You must be quite good at it since the earl and countess entrusted you with their grandchildren.”
Jessimond felt guilty hearing the lie she’d told him come from his own lips.
“My lord? Could we spend some time discussing the estate?”
“Of course, Sagar. We can meet in the records room.” Marcus turned to her. “Jess, this is Sagar, who has served the de Hartes for many years as our steward.”
A woman came to stand next to Sagar. Marcus continued, “And this is Herleva, whom I spoke to you about. This is Jess Gilpin. She is a healer who has come to do what she can for my stepmother and the babe. Jess will also help care for Lady Livia.”
With that, he handed her items to Herleva and helped Jessimond from the dais. “I’ll leave you in Herleva’s hands.” He looked to the servant. “Find a bedchamber for Jess and under no circumstances is she to enter Lady Ailith’s room. I don’t want her exposed to the measles.”
Marcus left with Sagar. Jessimond took her case from Herleva. “I can carry this. Would you take me to see Lady Ailith and her daughter now?”
“But Lord Marcus said—”
“He has warned me not to enter their chamber. I can stand in the doorway, though, and see how they are. It will help me decide what herbs to grind and prepare. The baron told me they both burned with fever.”
The servant pursed her lips a moment, contemplating what to do. “Come along then.”
She led Jessimond up the stairs and along a long corridor. Halting before a door, she said, “This is where Lady Livia is sleeping. Would you like to see her now?”
She smiled. “I would. And since I will help care for her, might I sleep in this chamber?”
Herleva returned her smile. “Of course. Come inside.” She opened the door.
Jessimond stepped in and saw a lone candle burned next to the bed. She crossed the room and set her case down so she could sit on the bed. A child with a mass of dark ringlets slept, her breath soft and even. Jessimond brushed back the curls and saw how beautiful the little girl was. Her skin was very fair and long lashes swept across her cheeks.
This child would be an orphan unless she could do something to heal Lady Ailith. A deep longing rose within her as she watched this little one sleep. Either Jessimond would be able to save Livia’s mother—or she would need to become a mother to this child. She brushed a kiss against the girl’s forehead and rose.
Herleva had placed the satchel in a chair. Jessimond retrieved her herb case and the two women left the bedchamber. They walked past three more doors before the servant paused.
“Remember your promise and keep your distance,” Herleva warned before opening the door.
Jessimond saw a woman younger than she was propped up against pillows. Her face, even more beautiful than her daughter’s, held the spots of measles upon it. Seated in a chair was a young girl who rocked a babe. The infant also had angry red dots on her.
“Who are you?” Lady Ailith called out weakly.
“Lord Marcus brought Jess to help you,” Herleva said. “She’s a healer.”
“See to Mary first,” pleaded the noblewoman.
“I will help you both the best I can,” promised Jess. To the servant, she asked, “Has the babe been feeding?”
“Nay. Lady Ailith’s milk dried up. Lady Mary has had nothing for a day. Mayhap longer.”
“What is your name?” Jessimond asked.
“Bea.”
“All right, Bea. I will have Herleva find a nursing mother to express a small amount of milk into a bowl. You will take a small square of linen and dip it into the bowl and then hold it to Lady Mary’s mouth. We want her to try and suck on the cloth. If she can get some nourishment that way, we’ll also have her drink some of the water I steep herbs in the same way.”
Jessimond looked to the mother in the bed. “You, my lady, also will need to drink. That will help you make milk for your babe. I will return soon with something for you to drink. It will have herbs to fight your fever and something to help you sleep. Sleep is a good tonic and will help you recover more quickly. I’ll be back shortly.”
She accompanied Herleva downstairs and told the servant, “I’ll go to the kitchen and boil some water and grind my herbs there. Please find a nursing mother so we have some milk that we can try to give Lady Mary.”
Half an hour later, Jessimond returned to the sickroom with two bowls. She set them on the floor and had Bea retrieve them.
“Lady Ailith is probably too weak to hold the bowl. You’ll need to do that for her. Have her drink all but a small bit of the contents before you try to feed the babe.”
She watched as the noblewoman drank the herbs steeped in water and then collapsed against the pillows again. Bea did as instructed and dipped the square into the milk before brushing it against Lady Mary’s lips. She tried numerous times but the babe never attempted to suck on the cloth.
“What should I do?” wailed Bea.
“Remain calm,” Jessimond said. “Try again every few minutes. Either she will or she won’t. You cannot force her. I’ll return after Lady Ailith has slept and see if what I gave her is working to break her fever.”
“I’ll try,” Bea said, a dubious look on her face.
She returned to the sleeping Livia and climbed into bed next to her. The child nestled against Jessimond and gave a contented sigh. She closed her own eyes, sending a prayer to the Virgin Mary to guide her efforts to restore both of her patients to good health.
Hours later, Jessimond awakened. She slipped from the bed carefully so as not to wake Livia and returned to Lady Ailith’s bedchamber. Opening the door, she heard soft weeping. The noblewoman slept so Jessimond knew the tears came from Bea.
The servant cradled Lady Mary in her arms. “I have tried, Jess. Many times. She cannot drink. She is barely breathing now.” Bea stood. “Would you bring Father Pious? He should be here.”
“You’ve done your best, Bea,” Jessimond reassured the servant. “I knew there was but a slim chance that the babe would suck. I’ll return with th
e priest.”
She hurried downstairs and left the keep. They had passed a small chapel on their way in last night. She entered it now and saw a man kneeling near the altar, his head bowed. She went to him and touched his shoulder gently. He glanced up, looking perturbed at the interruption.
“I am sorry to disturb your prayers, Father, but Lady Mary may not be long for this world. Would you please come?”
Rising, he said, “Of course. Who are you?”
As they returned to the keep, Jessimond introduced herself and explained why she’d come to Hartefield.
“Lady Mary never had a chance,” the priest said mournfully. “I only pray that Lady Ailith can recover.”
They started down the long hallway. Jessimond saw Marcus emerge from what she thought would be the solar. He made his way toward them. She quickly explained the situation and he accompanied them to the sickroom. Both Marcus and Father Pious entered, leaving Jessimond hovering in the doorway.
Bea still shed tears and Jessimond saw that Lady Ailith was awake and also wept as she held her daughter in her arms.
“Do something,” she said as the men approached her. “Please. Husband. Do something. Save her. Save my babe.”
Jessimond shook her head. Poor Lady Ailith was delirious. Jessimond guessed that Marcus must favor his father and, in her feverish state, Lady Ailith confused the two. The noblewoman might not have been informed of her husband’s death yesterday, due to her illness. Sorrow filled her, knowing that the woman had lost her husband and now her child.
The priest took the babe from her mother and began prayers for her. Marcus stood beside the bed and held his stepmother’s hand. Jessimond thought how incongruous it was for a stepmother to be even younger than her stepson. From what little Marcus had said, his mother had only died a few years ago. The baron must have remarried very quickly in order to have fathered two daughters in such a short time.
“She is gone,” Father Pious said softly. “Lady Mary is with her earthly father and her Heavenly Father.”
Lady Ailith wailed mournfully. Marcus put his arms around her as she sobbed. Bea looked utterly lost.
“I’ll will take Lady Mary to the chapel,” the priest said. “Bea, come along and help me prepare her for burial.”
Jessimond stepped aside as the two left the room, the bundled infant in Father Pious’ arms, and closed the door behind them. Hopefully, Marcus could offer some comfort to Lady Ailith. Jessimond would see to choosing some new herbs that might help break the fever raging through the noblewoman’s body.
First, though, she decided to check on Livia. Entering their shared bedchamber, she saw the child sitting up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Who are you?” the tiny voice asked.
“I’m Jess,” she said as she sat on the bed. “I’m going to help take care of you.”
“I want Mother,” the girl said stubbornly and then thrust her thumb into her mouth. A loud sucking noise followed.
Jessimond pulled Livia into her lap and smoothed her curls. “Your mother is very sick. But she’s going to get better.”
Livia removed her thumb, her eyes wide and hopeful. “Soon?”
“Aye. Very soon, my little lady.”
If it were the last thing she did, Jessimond would nurse Ailith de Harte back to full health.
Chapter 21
Why hadn’t he stayed with Jess at the mummers’ camp?
Marcus cursed again, knowing he was backed into a corner. Time had run out. Within an hour or two, Rand would arrive with Peter and Agatha in tow.
And Ailith de Harte would live. He was trapped. For life.
“God’s Blood and Bones!” he cried out, frustration seeping into every pore.
He sat alone in the records room at Harte Castle, ledgers scattered haphazardly across the desk in front of him. For the past week, some of his time had been spent here while the rest had been out on horseback checking on the estate or working with his soldiers in the training yard. Very little of it had been with Jess.
Why hadn’t he left her with the Vawdrys? It would only have been for a handful of days.
Marcus was angry with himself for heeding Rand’s urgent words and traveling to Hartefield in the first place. If he’d stayed with the troupe and finished out his last week in the Vawdrys’ employ before they disbanded, he would have arrived to the news that his father was gone. A dead Charles de Harte wouldn’t have been able to tell Marcus of his betrayal—much less share that his son was betrothed to Lady Ailith. Marcus would have assumed his role as the new Baron of Harteley and wed Jess.
Ailith, too, would certainly have been dead by today without Jess nursing her back to health. Though the baroness was still as weak as a newborn, Jess had beamed with pride when she told Marcus that his stepmother would make a full recovery. He could still hear Jess’ words, telling him how relieved she was to have saved Lady Ailith’s life since Marcus had already undergone so much loss recently.
The biggest loss would now be Jess.
If only he’d left her with the mummers and had Rand escort her when he returned to Hartefield today. Marcus could have spent the last waning days comforting his dying new wife and then buried her with no one other than Father Pious and two witnesses the wiser that the marriage had occurred. Instead, he’d been selfish and wanted the woman he loved nearby. Jess, being the good soul she was, had toiled day and night, concocting new brews for Ailith to drink until her high fever subsided and her cough was brought under control. She also created scented, soothing mixtures to bathe Ailith with to help ease the terrible itching from the rash that covered her entire body.
Ailith would live, thanks to Jess. The woman who meant everything to him had unwittingly chained him to a stranger and dashed any hopes of them ever joining together as man and wife.
Now, Marcus would have to tell Jess the truth—and watch the light go out of her eyes.
He rose, knowing what lay ahead was more difficult than any battle he’d ever fought. Dread coursed through him. Marcus didn’t know how he would be able to survive without Jess in his life.
And what if his babe grew within her?
Reluctantly, he mounted the stairs, knowing he would find her sitting in the doorway of Ailith’s bedchamber. Jess had spent countless hours there watching over her patient and many others keeping Livia entertained. He ventured down the corridor and saw the empty chair at the chamber’s entrance. He wondered where Jess might be and decided to ask Ailith.
As Marcus came to the doorway, he glanced inside and saw Jess sitting next to Ailith’s bed. Anger filled him. He had cautioned her not to enter the sickroom. Jess probably had decided Ailith was no longer contagious at this point but she shouldn’t have made that choice without speaking to him.
He marched to the bed and heard Ailith say, “Nay, Jess, I know my first husband is dead. Marcus is my new husband.”
Jess jumped to her feet, her body stiff as a board. She wheeled around and saw him. Those beautiful amethyst eyes were wide in horror as her jaw hung open.
“Jess, let me explain.”
She pushed past him and fled the room. Marcus turned to follow.
From the bed, Ailith rasped, “What’s wrong?”
He ignored his wife and ran after the love of his life.
Marcus caught up with her and grabbed her elbow. Jess spun and faced him, her eyes now dark and filled with tears that began to spill down her cheeks. He latched on to her other elbow, holding her in place, not knowing how to begin. She stared at him in silence.
“Jess, I was coming to tell you.”
Her mouth trembled. “Now. You were coming to tell me now. That you are wed. To Lady Ailith.”
“Aye,” he said softly, dropping his head in shame.
“You knew you were wed to another and yet you dallied with me.”
He raised his head as she squeezed her eyes shut, as if she couldn’t stand the sight of him.
“All those times we talked. Laughed. Flirted. The tim
es you kissed me. When you told me you cared for me.” Her head fell. “When I gave you my virginity.”
Her voice was so low he strained to hear those last words. As he did, it was like a knife to his heart.
“Jess. Look at me.”
She shook her head.
“Please.” His voice broke.
Slowly, she lifted her head. Her eyes streamed tears of anger and shame and sorrow.
“What I feel for you is real. Every moment spent in your company was an honest one. I didn’t know I was betrothed to Ailith. Not even when I returned from two years of combat.” He swallowed. “I arrived and found her in my father’s bed. I called her his whore, not knowing that my mother had died. He told me Mother was gone. I realized, seeing the two little girls, just how fast he had remarried. I left Hartefield before I killed him.”
Marcus paused and gathered his thoughts. “When I returned a week ago and found him dying, Father told me Ailith had been my intended bride. A surprise for me when I returned from battle. He’d served as my proxy and signed the betrothal contracts in my name. When Mother passed suddenly, his lust overcame his good sense. He told Ailith I’d been killed in combat and then pretended to wed her. Ailith has no idea they were never truly married. Livia and Mary are Father’s bastards.”
Jess’ eyes grew wide.
“Father’s dying request—no, demand—was for me to marry Ailith and take those girls under my protection. Ailith’s fever raged out of control. Everyone told me she would be dead within days, if not hours. So I did the noble thing and wed her. She was already my wife by law. And I pitied her, for everything she had gone through. ’Tis why I brought you here, to help ease her suffering before she passed.”
Dully, Jess said, “And I saved her instead.”
“You did. Every day, I hated myself for I wished her to die. Every day, you worked another miracle and helped Ailith to grow stronger. Now, she will live.”
“My actions have torn us apart,” Jess said softly. Her tears flowed freely now. “I have become my mother. She loved a man betrothed to another.” She paused. “I must leave. At once. Nay, Peter is on his way. I will wait for him and Agatha.”