by Aston, Alexa
Kate jumped. “Oh, Nicholas! What are doing?”
He slowly stroked her. “Making you happy, I hope.”
“Are you supposed to do this?” she asked, uncertainty in her voice.
It angered him that his father had not even done this for her, which meant Cedric hadn’t prepared her on their wedding night. No wonder Kate seemed so frightened of what their passion would lead to. Her groom had mounted her and thrust inside her, spilling her virgin blood in a harsh manner.
Nicholas would make it up to her, a thousand times over.
“A husband and wife can do whatever they want when they are together. Nothing is wrong. Only what makes each other happy and fulfilled is what is right.”
He continued to stroke her as he spoke and then added a second finger.
“Nicholas!”
He covered her mouth with his again, his kisses as deep as his fingers as he teased her along. Sensing she came close to fulfillment, he found the sweet nub and began fondling it. Kate’s nails dug into his bare shoulders as her body began shuddering. She moved against his hand and he sped up his strokes.
Suddenly, she cried out and pushed against him, over and over.
“Ride it, Kate,” he urged. “Ride it.”
She did as told, clinging to him, tightening around his fingers, whimpering. A violent tremor shook her. Slowly, she stilled and he kissed her lovingly.
“What did you do to me?” she asked, wonder in her voice.
Nicholas wanted to say that he’d loved her but knew he couldn’t. Instead, he gave her a swift, hard kiss. “I brought you joy, my lady.”
Kate giggled. “That you did, my lord.”
He nestled her against him again. “I am tired, Kate. I must sleep.” When she tried to move away, he tightened his arms about her. “Stay.”
“That sounds like a command,” she murmured against his chest.
“It was. Your liege lord—and husband—orders you to keep still.”
“Aye, my lord.”
Nicholas listened as her breathing evened out and her limbs relaxed. With each breath he inhaled the faint scent of vanilla, which seemed to calm him. He didn’t fall asleep, though. He supposed he’d already had too much of it.
As he lay next to Kate, he thought about Sunset throwing him. It was unlike the horse to be temperamental. Something had occurred. When morning came, he would discover what.
He must have dozed eventually. He awoke as Kate began to stir. She burrowed against his neck a moment and then stretched. Soon, every day would be like this one. He would wake with Kate in his arms. The difference would be that he would make love to her after she did. And again in the afternoon. Once more before they fell asleep. Nicholas could even believe he would wake her during the night for love play.
Bryce had been right about one thing—he was besotted with his wife.
“Mmm.”
He felt her push back the bedclothes and slip from the bed before she pulled them over him again.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“You must be famished. I had bread and broth here for you when you awoke. Let me light a few candles and I will bring it to you. How is your head?”
“A dull ache. Nothing more.” The pounding had begun again as his stomach growled noisily. “I suppose I am hungry.”
Nicholas heard her padding across the floor. He closed his eyes and stretched his arms over his head, feeling lazy. Mayhap he could claim to need another day of rest and keep Kate to himself all day long in this bed. He sensed her coming toward him and rolled to his side, propping his head up with a hand. That helped relieve some of the pressure in his head.
Opening his eyes, he said, “I hope you’ll join me in breaking my fast.”
The mattress moved with her weight but he couldn’t see her.
“I thought you were going to light a candle, Kate.”
She didn’t speak. He sensed heat near him, as if she held a raised candle nearby.
“Kate?” He tried to hold his panic at bay.
“Nicholas. Look at me,” she instructed.
“I am . . . but I don’t see you.”
He reached a hand out and touched her wrist. His fingers went up her hand and he found she held a candlestick.
But he couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see her.
He was blind.
Chapter Nineteen
Nicholas sucked in air as if he couldn’t breathe. The pounding in his head magnified. He wanted to scream in frustration.
Kate’s palm touched his face. “I am here, Nicholas.”
It was as if her hand scorched his face. He fell back against the pillows and winced, the knot throbbing painfully as he landed on it. Quickly, he rolled to his side, trying to calm himself—and failing.
“This could be temporary,” she said. “I know you are frightened but the blindness may not last. The tumble you took was nasty. You need to give your head time to heal.”
He flung all his fury at her. “And what if it does last? How am I to be the Earl of Northmere? How can I care for my people? How could I lead men into battle?”
“Worrying about it won’t help,” she pointed out calmly. “You need to concentrate on getting well. Are you feeling ill? Does your head ache?”
“Both,” he growled, wishing she would leave him alone.
“Elewys thought you would experience both. I will go to the kitchens and boil some water to steep the herbs she left. There’s ginger to combat your nausea and chamomile to sooth your aching head. I’ll also prepare a new poultice to apply to the swelling.”
Nicholas sensed her move back a few feet. Already, his hearing seemed more acute with his sight gone.
“I’ll return soon with fresh broth and bread. You’ll need to keep up your strength.”
He listened as her steps receded and then slammed his fists against the mattress, feeling as helpless as a newborn. Being the earl of the largest estate in Northumberland brought a great many responsibilities. Nicholas couldn’t begin to imagine how he could fulfill them in his current state. And if the Scots discovered how vulnerable he was, they would invade swiftly since his estate was the first one on the English side of the border. He would be useless in any attack that occurred. He would let down not only his own people but his king and country.
Tears began to fall. He couldn’t recall a time when he’d ever cried. Not when his Mother passed. Not when Favian died in his arms. Not any time he’d been injured on the battlefield. Nicholas realized, though, why the tears came now. Though the blindness could be a temporary side effect from his fall, he had to prepare as if this would be his permanent state. That meant he knew exactly what he must do.
Seek an annulment from Kate.
Nicholas wouldn’t burden her with marriage to half a man. He loved her enough to let her go. That meant pushing her away. Proving he didn’t want her. Not letting her guess how much he truly needed her, now more than before.
He steeled himself, waiting for her return. He would remain polite but distant. He feared he would compose himself and then fall apart the minute she returned. Drawing from a deep well of courage inside him, Nicholas told himself he did what was best for her.
Because he loved her.
He heard her steps first. Then caught her scent and the smell of bread and meat. Heard the tray being set down. Pushing himself up, he braced his back against the pillows.
“I want you to drink first,” she said. “Lift your hands. I’ll place the bowl in them.”
He did as she asked and could almost see the bowl being placed in front of him. She pressed it against his hands and he wrapped his fingers firmly around it. Tilting it to his lips, he drank greedily, realizing how thirsty he was. When he finished, she told him she had another one for him to drink and he did the same.
“Those contained the herbs to help relieve your pain and ease your belly,” Kate said as she removed the bowl from his hands. “I’m going to unwrap the cloth from your head now and replace the
poultice with a fresh one.”
Nicholas remained still, so aware of Kate’s nearness. He fought the urge to capture her face and bring her mouth to his. He pushed the thought aside. Kissing her was a luxury he would never partake in again. Nay, not a luxury. A necessity he must learn to live without.
She completed ministering to him and eased him back into the pillows again.
“You need to keep up your strength. I’m going to set a tray in front of you now.” She did and said, “Warm broth is in a bowl in the center of the tray. To its left is half a loaf of freshly-baked bread. Above the bowl rests a leg and thigh of roasted chicken. Directly to the right of that is a cup of cool ale.”
His Kate knew him well. He would never want her to feed him like some invalid. Telling him the location of each item on the tray would allow him some small bit of independence.
“Thank you. You may go now.”
“You don’t wish me to stay?” she asked.
“I’d rather eat alone,” he replied evenly.
Nicholas was so attuned to her that he felt the hurt roll from her.
“I see. I’ll come back in an hour and retrieve the tray then.”
He had much to think on and asked, “Kate, did anyone find something wrong with Sunset’s saddle?”
“Aye. Someone deliberately cut through part of the girth,” she revealed, causing him to grow cold inside. “The saddle is lying on the table across the room. I knew you would want to inspect it.”
He would—only with his fingers now instead of his eyes.
“We should send word to Northmere—”
“I’ve already done so. I told your uncle that I’d injured my ankle and that you were staying with me as I recovered to cheer me up.”
“I see you’ve thought of everything.” Nicholas couldn’t help but admire Kate’s intelligence. Though he longed to praise her for her quick thinking, he remained silent.
“I’ll leave you to break your fast,” she finally said and left.
Nicholas knew he’d wounded her but he needed to prepare them both for the time they would part for good. He couldn’t count on his sight returning. For now, he needed to guard her heart—as well as his own.
*
Katelyn resolved to stay strong as she entered the solar. After Nicholas had discovered he was blind yesterday, he had been curt to her and asked to be left alone. She’d wandered about the manor feeling lost, knowing she couldn’t tell a soul what was truly wrong with him. Dorinda, Lucy, and Henfrey obviously knew something was amiss since she only went in to take Nicholas more steeped herbs before quickly retreating. Fortunately, they didn’t ask any questions.
Now, she approached the bed where the man she loved lay. In sleep, he looked younger than when he was awake, worrying about everything he should be doing.
And couldn’t.
She longed to send for Elewys again but her gut told her the healer would tell her it would take time until they knew for certain if Nicholas would regain his sight or if it would be lost forever.
Katelyn cleared her throat and watched him stir. He opened his eyes and stared out in her direction. She could tell that nothing had changed. It was hard holding on to hope but she did so fiercely, once more imploring the Virgin to intercede on Nicholas’ behalf and grant a return of his sight.
“Good morning,” she said as he pushed himself to a sitting position. “How are you feeling today?”
“The nausea is gone,” he informed her. “The pain in my head is subsiding.”
“That’s good news,” she said, not too brightly, for she was afraid that would set off his temper again. He’d lost it twice yesterday. Katelyn knew he wasn’t berating her but merely finding it hard to cope with the circumstances he found himself in.
“I’ll save the ginger then and only give you the other herbs. Hopefully, the pain will continue to recede as the day progresses. May I look at the knot on your head?”
Nicholas nodded. She unwound the cloth that held the poultice into place and then lifted both away. Taking a candle that was burning on the bedside table, she lifted it and inspected his head. Gently, she moved her fingers along it, pleased with what she saw and felt.
“The swelling has diminished. I think I can leave the poultice off.”
“Good.”
Lifting one of the bowls she’d brought, she said, “Please drink this. If the hurt lessens even more, this may be the last time you do so.”
Nicholas took the bowl and downed the contents. He pushed the bowl in her direction and she took it from him.
“I’m placing the tray in your lap again. Everything has been placed at the same spot as yesterday.” She hesitated. “Do you need anything else?”
His fingers sought the bread and tore some from the loaf. “Tell me about my saddle again.”
As he chewed, Katelyn explained how Sunset had galloped away after the incident and returned without a saddle on his back.
“Once I suspected foul play, I sent Sir Albert and Sir Gerald to search for it. They brought the saddle back and showed me where the girth had been tampered with. I had them leave it so you could see for yourself.”
She winced the moment the words came from her mouth, knowing how insensitive they were.
Nicholas merely grunted and continued to eat.
When he remained silent, she rose. “I will excuse myself. I’ll be back later to see if you need anything.”
Katelyn exited the solar, her heart heavy. If Nicholas did not regain his sight, she didn’t know how it would affect him. He was such a strong, capable man, use to leading others by example. It would be very difficult for him to fulfill all of his responsibilities as Earl of Northmere if the blindness proved to be permanent. She halted as the realization hit her.
Nicholas needed her, now more than ever. Though she might not be the best choice of a wife for him, Katelyn understood that it would be important to remain by his side. If she asked for the annulment now, he would always think she rejected him because he was blind. It was important to stand by him, no matter what. She could be his eyes. Ride the estate. Visit with his people. Share with him what should be done. She could function as a true partner to him.
In that moment, Katelyn knew she must do whatever it took to remain in her marriage.
Returning downstairs, she went to sit by the fire. She became lost in thought, thinking of what her life would be like as the Countess of Northmere. It would be important to put aside any fear or hesitations she might possess. She needed to be strong—not only for herself—but for her husband and their people.
That meant they needed to consummate their marriage. Soon. It would be hard enough once word leaked out that Nicholas was blind. Her status as the king’s cousin, married to the Earl of Northmere, would be more important than ever before. The Scots, as well as the nobles of the north, must understand how strongly the king supported Northmere and Northumberland, wedding his own cousin to Nicholas.
A hand touched her shoulder. Katelyn glanced up to see Rafe Mandeville standing before her. She masked her surprise.
“I would have thought you would still be abed. Or at least sitting with that ankle propped up,” the knight said.
“My ankle is much better now, thank you, my lord.”
“Where is Nicholas then?” he demanded. “He doesn’t need to dance attendance upon you any longer. There are things he must take care of at the castle.”
“He is upstairs, resting in the solar,” Katelyn began. “He is ill.”
“Ill?” Rafe snorted. “Nicholas is never ill. He’s suffered a few wounds in battle that made him take to his bed but that’s never been for long. I’ll see that he attends to business as he ought to.”
Rafe strode away. Katelyn leaped to her feet and dashed after the knight as he hurried across the great hall and up the stairs. The nobleman reached the solar and entered without bothering to knock.
She saw Nicholas sitting up in the bed. He’d dressed since she’d left this morning and h
ad placed his tray on the floor.
“What is this about, Nicholas? I can’t remember a day in your life when you’ve been sick.”
“I had a fall from Sunset, Uncle,” Nicholas replied smoothly, looking in the direction of where Rafe’s voice came from. He touched his fingers to the back of his head. “I’ve got a nasty bump.”
Rafe leaned over and inspected the swollen spot. He stepped back and studied Nicholas. Katelyn saw Nicholas continued to look steadily at his uncle. She hoped Rafe wouldn’t guess what Nicholas obviously wanted to hide.
“You should have come back to Northmere after it happened,” the knight grumbled. “Elewys could have tended to you.”
“Nicholas experienced dizziness and nausea, my lord,” Katelyn explained. “It would have been impossible for him to ride back to the castle in that condition. Placing him in a cart would have been too jarring. We thought it best he remain at the manor house for the time being.”
“We?” Rafe asked. “When does a woman help make decisions for the Earl of Northmere?”
“When she’s my wife,” Nicholas said firmly.
His words renewed Katelyn’s hope that he still wanted them to remain wed. He’d been so distant and hurtful the past two days. She hoped he meant what he said and didn’t put on a show of unity for his uncle when none truly existed.
“A wife is to do as she’s told,” Rafe bluntly insisted. “Not decide anything.”
“Katelyn is as intelligent as any man of my acquaintance. I trust her opinions.”
Rafe grunted. “You seem fine to me. Get out of that bed. That is, if you can tear yourself away from your pretty wife.” He turned to leave. “What’s that?”
“That is Sunset’s saddle,” she said, following Rafe’s gaze and letting Nicholas know what his uncle spoke of. As Rafe moved toward the table, she added, “Someone wished to do Nicholas harm.”
The nobleman bent and ran his hands along the leather until he reached the girth. “This didn’t happen without help.” He started back toward the bed. “How on earth did the Scots manage to tinker with your saddle?”