“Calm yourself, my sweet. I’m here.”
“Martha!” Eleanor called out in a desperate plea.
It tore at his heart to see her in this state. Worry consumed him. Touching her was more a comfort to him than it was to her. “Shhh,” he whispered. “Everything will be all right. Martha will be here soon.”
As though he willed it Martha burst through the door with Zenon and Randolf right behind her.
“God’s blood!” She turned to Zenon. “Bring me boiled water and my herb bag. Zenon immediately left to get what she needed.
Dominick moved off the bed to allow the maid to do her work. In what seemed like no time, Zenon returned with two small pots of water. One he placed in front of the hearth and the other he handed to Martha.
Randolf pulled Dominick out of the way as Zenon moved to Martha’s side. He ladled water into a cup and handed it to her. She placed a few dried herbs in it. Zenon helped Eleanor into a sitting position while the maid spooned the mixture down her throat. Eleanor sputtered and choked, but Martha was able to get most of the cup’s contents in her.
A few minutes later, Eleanor’s shaking stopped, but Dominick could still see the flush of fever on her cheeks. Martha piled the bed robes high while Zenon built a roaring fire. Soon their chamber was like an oven. Dominick could feel tendrils of hair at his nape becoming wet with perspiration that dripped down his back.
Randolf sat with Dominick while he watched Martha and Zenon minister to his wife. Even in prison, Dominick hadn’t felt that helpless. Eleanor was sick and there was nothing he could do to help her.
He watched her chest rise and fall, breaths deep and even. His chest rose and fell with hers. Staring into her face, he wondered how she’d become so important to him. His mind went back to their first meeting. In the beginning she had been his duty, but immediately, her delicate beauty struck him. Later, he admired her spirit and her devotion to her people. The woman deserved a long life. He sent up a silent prayer on her behalf.
Throughout the night, Eleanor had bouts of delirium, calling for her mother, shouting profanities at her father and crying in fear of McPhearson. Dominick knew that in her feverish mind she saw the demons that haunted her. She called out to him several times, but it had only been his name. He would come to her side, telling her he was there, but to his despair it was as if he were talking to someone under water. She couldn’t hear him.
By morning Martha looked raged. Randolf and Zenon had left earlier to take care of the running of the castle.
“Martha, go to your chamber and rest yourself for a while. I will give her the herb mixture should she wake, Dominick said.” Martha looked back at Eleanor with concern. “I will alert you if she should need your help.” He pulled her from the side of the bed and led her toward the door.
“Aye, my lord, I will rest for a while.”
“Good. Eleanor needs your strength right now. If you don’t have it, you cannot help her.”
“I could say the same of you, my lord.”
“Years of war one gets used to lack of sleep.”
Martha nodded and left the room. Dominick pulled a chair beside the bed. Eleanor was quiet. He touched her head, but the fever still raged.
“Eleanor,” he found himself saying, “This isn’t like the tree. I can’t pull you out. You’re going to have to climb out on your own.” He leaned down closer to her. “Be strong, my little dove and climb out of the dark hole you fell into.”
There was no response. She lay perfectly still for several hours until the thrashing began again, and Dominick administered the herb mixture. Within minutes, she was back under control and sleeping soundly, but with little relief to the fever.
Later that afternoon Martha returned with a steamy cup of broth. “Has there been any change, my lord?”
“None that I can see. She stirs periodically, but that is when her fever is highest and the delirium begins.” Dominick could not keep the frustration from his voice.
Martha gently touched his arm. “I brought her some broth. It will help her a bit.” The servant went to the bedside and spooned the broth into Eleanor’s mouth, but it just ran back out.
Dominick’s frustration grew. He paced the floor, running his hands through his hair. The room was closing in on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her side.
Randolf came in later with Erik. “Has there been any change?”
“No,” Dominick ground out through his teeth.
“Dominick, come to the hall and eat something,” Erik said.
“I can’t leave her.”
“This room is sweltering, it will drain on your strength. Come and fortify yourself. You can’t help her should you fall ill as well.”
Those were the very words he had used to get Martha to leave that morning. He conceded to having his evening meal in the hall but he returned as soon as he’d finished. He didn’t drink any wine for fear it would make him sleepy. Staying alert was important should Eleanor need him.
The rest of the night passed in much the same way as the night before. Eleanor slipped in and out of delirium, her fever only slightly falling. Servants vigilantly kept the fire high. More tea and broth were forced down Eleanor’s throat.
Dominick dozed off for a short time. When he woke he saw Eleanor lying deathly white and still. Her chest rose in shallow breaths. Tears ran down Martha’s face. Her attempts to douse the fever were failing. Martha’s call to her mistress to wake up was futile.
Zenon came with the priest from the chapel. Randolf and Erik were behind and stood next to Dominick. A sense of disbelief overwhelmed him. His mind would not accept that Eleanor was dying.
The heat in the room made him feel as though he had entered Hell. The smell of incense churned his stomach. Looking toward the bed Eleanor’s, body was so small beneath the pile of bed robes. The priest droned on in Latin. Perspiration dripped down his face. A vision appeared to him in the corner of the room. Eleanor’s mother stood watching her daughter. She turned to Dominick, eyes filled with sadness.
Gut-wrenching fear took over his desperate mind. Eleanor’s fever was getting higher. The room was too hot. “This is wrong,” Dominick said. He knew now what he had to do. Pushing through the crowd by the bed, he began pulling off the covers. He looked up at Zenon. “Saddle my horse.
Zenon looked horrified. “But my lord—”
“Do it, now!” Dominick shouted.
Zenon jumped to do his bidding.
“My Lord, what are you doing?” Martha said in confusion.
“I will not allow Eleanor to die this way.” He finally unwrapped her body from her cloche. Her skin was as white as the chemise she wore. When he picked her up in his arms, her body felt as hot and dry as the embers in an oven. He whisked her out of their chamber. The crowd followed closely behind with Martha and the priest protesting that he was going to kill her.
Their protests fell on deaf ears. Zenon was waiting outside with Dominick’s horse. Dominick handed Eleanor to his brother just long enough to mount then reached down and gently pulled her back into his arms. Cradling her against his body he charged out the gate. Eleanor’s head bobbed as he rode hard toward the forest. Once there he eased Aries down the slick hill to the stream.
Throwing one leg over the animal’s neck he slid down with Eleanor held close. With her cradled in his arms he carried her into the stream. He heard shouts beyond the trees but he ignored them. Once he was waist deep in water he bent his knees and plunged Eleanor into the icy stream.
He cupped water in one hand and poured it over her head. He bathed her fevered face and shoulders. Her breathing was getting deeper and her eyes began to flutter. His fear shattered into relief.
All of the villagers crested the hill. Randolf and Erik raced down on horseback, standing guard over Dominick and his wife.
Color other than the red rages of fever was creeping back into her face. Her eyes fluttered once more.
“That’s it my little dove, come back to me,” D
ominick crooned, holding her slightly apart from him so the water could completely surround her.
Her eyes opened, lucid and clear. She clung tightly to him. “Dominick, what’s happening?”
His heart flooded with relief and he kissed her forehead. “I will tell you later.”
A cheer rose up from the crowd.
Eleanor looked toward the bank. Her arms wrapped around his neck. “Why are we in the river? It’s freezing!”
Dominick felt a chuckle bubble in his throat. “We just went for a little swim, my dear. Come, let me get you back to the castle, and I will explain everything.” With that he carried her to the bank.
Martha held out a blanket and tucked it loosely around Eleanor, who held on tightly as Dominick mounted and headed back toward Godwin. A procession of villagers followed.
Dominick carried her up to their chamber and placed her in a chair away from the hearth. The room was still stifling hot. He pulled logs off the fire to reduce its fury and opened the shutters.
Martha was in shortly after that. He grabbed dry clothes and left to allow her to tend his wife. Once out of the chamber Dominick felt himself take his first real breath in two days. Eleanor’s fever had broken, and she was lucid and talking. This was the third time she had come so close to death.
When he returned to the chamber he found Eleanor propped up on pillows, in a clean chemise. Martha had brushed and braided her hair in two plaits on each side, and only one robe covered her body. The room was significantly cooler. Eleanor looked tired, but in a more natural way than before.
“It seems I have you to thank again for saving my life.” Her smile shone bright. “This is becoming a habit with you. Someday I hope to return the favor.”
He sat down on the bed beside her. “Let’s just hope this is the last of our adventures.”
“We can certainly hope,” she said through a large yawn.
Pulling some of the pillows away, he helped her lie down more comfortably. “Rest now. I will have food brought up later. By then I’m sure you will have an appetite.”
She nodded then drifted off into a natural sleep. Dominick checked her forehead for fever. To his relief, her skin was cool to the touch. He sat and watched her until Martha shooed him out, promising to stay with her while he got a belly full of food and rested for a while.
For the first time in days he felt like doing just that.
Chapter Seventeen
It had been a week since Eleanor came out of her fever. Dominick insisted she stay in bed for two more days after her ordeal, and the rest of the time she was to remain inside the castle. From the time she stepped out of her chambers, people were there, waiting on her hand and foot.
Their constant attention was maddening. By the seventh day, she decided she had had enough. Dressing in an old worn gown, she headed out to see about her kitchen garden, hoping the storm hadn’t torn apart her little seedlings. Upon inspection, she found them to be poking out of the ground on sturdy little stems. Gathering her gardening tools, she plopped down on her hands and knees and began plucking out weeds, removing stones, and dragging her trowel through the dirt that had been packed down by the storm.
Her body felt the healing powers of the earth as her hands dug in the soft dirt. Working in the garden gave her a sense of peace and well-being. Once she finished clearing out a couple rows of cabbages, she sat back on her knees, and looked at them with satisfaction. She shaded her eyes from the sun and looked toward the castle. Its restoration filled her with a sense of hope. Her father’s neglect and McPhearson’s assaults had all but destroyed her home. Now it was being rebuilt, along with the village. Godwin was offering new life and a sense of security to its people, a security she’d never felt before.
A long shadow fell on the ground before her.
“I thought my instructions were for you to stay in the castle until you’re well.”
Eleanor walked to the top of her garden to clear a new row of vegetables. She kneeled down to continue her weeding. She gave Dominick her most brilliant smile. “I’m feeling fine. Better than I have in a long time.”
Dominick was looking much too serious. “I won’t have you taxing yourself.”
“Relax, my good knight. I feel in sound health. And I could not take another day looking at those gray walls.”
He bent down beside her reached to gently tilt her chin toward him so he could look into her eyes. She was touched by his concern.
Dominick studied her face, and she realized he was looking for signs of fatigue. “You’re sure you’re feeling well?”
Looking up at the bright blue sky, she couldn’t hide her exhilaration at the beautiful day. “I’m more than feeling well.” Stretching her arms out, her face uplifted to feel the warmth of the sun. “I’m feeling glorious.”
“This is good.” He took her hand. “If you’re well enough, I would like to show you something.”
“What would that be?”
He pulled her up from where she was kneeling and helped her over the small fence that protected the garden. “It’s a surprise. Call it a late wedding gift.”
He led her to the stables. Standing her just outside the stable door, he instructed her to wait and disappeared into the dark opening. After only a few moments he led out a snow-white Arabian horse.
Eleanor gasped in surprise. “Oh, Dominick! She’s beautiful.”
His smiled was from ear to ear. “Do you like her?”
“Like her? She’s magnificent.” The horse’s beauty overwhelmed her.
“What are you going to name her?” he asked.
She could hardly contain her excitement. “You mean she’s mine?”
“Didn’t I say it was a belated wedding gift? The Lady of Godwin must have a quality horse.”
Elation made her feet take flight, and she bounded into Dominick’s arms, squeezing his neck. “Oh, Dominick, this is absolutely wonderful.”
It wasn’t until his arms came around her that she felt the heat of his body travel the length of hers. The desire to stay there was frightening. She quickly pulled away. Her face grew hot, and she needed to say something to break the tension. “I only wish I had a gift equally as precious to give you.”
When he pulled up her chin, she saw his eyes smoldering.
“One day you will, my little dove, and it will be the most precious gift of all.”
There was no doubt in her mind what he was talking about. Strange warmth settled low in her middle. Deliberately, she put the animal between them, stroking its neck. “I think I will call her White Wind. She looks as though she could fly across a meadow.”
“She’s remarkably fast.” He hesitated for a moment. “I never thought of it until now, but do you know how to ride?”
“Zenon taught me when I was a child, when we still had horses. But I have to admit it has been a few years.”
“Once you have ridden, you never forget.” He stroked White Wind’s neck. “How about this afternoon? I could have Martha pack an afternoon meal, and we could eat it by the shore, to celebrate your recovery.”
Excitement bubbled inside her. She smiled back at him. “I would love that.”
“Good then it’s settled. We will ride this afternoon.”
“It will have to be after I finish clearing the kitchen garden. The soil needs to be worked."
“That will be fine. I have some things to attend to as well. I will look for you this afternoon. Then we can decide when to get away.”
She gave White Wind another stroke on her muzzle before heading toward the garden. She looked back for a moment to see Dominick leading the horse into the stable.
Her stomach fluttered. She was smiling inside as well as the outside. As she tilled the garden, Dominick’s handsome image came to mind. Unexplainably, she felt as giddy as a young maid being courted by a handsome knight, something she’d never dreamed of. It was a nightmare that had haunted her life, that some day she would be forced to wed. But now it had come to pass and those nightmare
s were becoming a distant memory.
An afternoon at the beach would be intimate. She jolted at the notion. Was she ready to be a wife?
In all fairness she had to remember the gentle man that had held her while she wept, the man who had time to play with children, and the generous man who had already given her more than she expected in a lifetime. Never in her life had she seen those traits in her father, or any noble for that matter.
Dominick had saved her life on three occasions. He deserved more than her skepticism, but doubt was hard to put aside. The man was still a warrior. All his life he had known only war. Could he transform into a land owner and a fair lord to her people and truly be happy? Time. She needed more time. She had to put aside her adolescent fears and concentrate on the good people of Godwin.
Dominick’s shadow crossed over hers once more as she was pulling the last weed out of the garden.
“Are you ready, my lady?”
She held out her hand for him to pull her up. “Yes. Just let me clean up, and I will meet you at the stables.”
“I will see you shortly then.”
Her heart lurched again when he squeezed her hand slightly before he let it go and walked in to the kitchen entrance. Hand on chest, she chastised herself for letting her emotions rise and fall, acting like a silly girl.
Soon cleaned and dressed, with her hair now plaited in one braid down her back, Eleanor was ready for her outing. Walking toward the stables, she saw a groom holding White Wind’s reins. A fine leather saddle trimmed in silver sat on the mare’s back and suited such a magnificent animal.
Dominick led his large warhorse out of the stables. It dwarfed her white Arabian. This must be how she and Dominick looked when standing together, the giant and the elf. She chuckled at the thought.
Spotting her outside, he led the two horses toward her. “Let’s make our own adventure, shall we?”
Immortal Love Page 14