the only one I have left. Please, help me.”
“Aye, my lady,” Taft answered.
The men carried Jeremy outside, following Alicen as
she preceded them to stand at the end of the trough.
“Lower him in gently,” she instructed.
She grasped Jeremy under the arms, keeping his head
dry. Submersion in the trough of icy cold well water,
brought searing pain to her hands, and she ground her
teeth to keep from gasping. In moments, her fingers were
numb. If the fever didn’t break quickly, Taft would have
to hold Jeremy while she returned some sensation to her
arms and hands.
The moments dragged. Alicen clenched her jaw and
grimly hung on. Then just when she felt her grip loosen,
Jeremy cried out, thrashing like a bear in a trap. Her
nerveless fingers lost their hold, and he slipped under
water.
“Help me,” she shouted.
The men instantly plunged elbow deep into the trough,
pulling Jeremy to the surface.
“Back to the infirmary,” she ordered. “He must be
warmed immediately.”
“Will he recover, Alicen?” Ned asked anxiously as the
men carried their captain inside.
“I’m praying as hard as I can, lad,” she replied. “It’s
in God’s hands now.”
EIGHTEEN
“Jesu, this is a welcome sight,” William proclaimed
when Jeremy, lucid for the first time in two days,
awakened at midmorning. “Now I’ll ride to York with an
untroubled mind.”
“I’m riding along.” Jeremy moved to sit up, but his
superior’s hand restrained him.
“Nay. Mistress Kent didn’t trouble herself to save you
only to see you kill yourself within a day. Remain abed
and mend.”
“But, William—”
“Cease!” the duke commanded. “You worked yourself
near to death. I’ll not risk that again. Rest here. I regret
leaving for York without you, but the alliance must be
sealed anon. Harold grows stronger by the day.”
“Not since Kenrick’s demise,” Jeremy retorted sourly.
“I’ll reward you well for that service.” Jeremy knew
his eyes widened in hope, until the look William gave
him crushed it. “But not this eventide.”
“You repay me with confinement?” Jeremy made no
attempt to conceal his anger. “I’ll not regain my land while
lying abed.”
William shook his head. “Two nights ago I nearly lost
you, and that I cannot endure. Curb your rashness and
follow Alicen’s bidding.”
Jeremy thought to argue, but the worry in William’s
eyes stopped him. And Alicen’s entry shifted his attention.
She held a tray with steaming broth and a thick slice of
bread.
“If you command it, my lord,” he grumbled, glaring at
her instead of at William.
“Consider it so, Captain.” William smiled. “Take the
woman’s advice.”
Alicen smiled, also. “I fear you condemn him to a fate
worse than death, my lord. For certain, he’d rather risk
his life riding with you than stay here with me.”
Did I think the wench amiable? Jeremy silently
groused. Fever must have destroyed my mind. “You’re
keen-witted today,” he snapped. He’d never admit her
apparent eagerness to see him off buffeted his pride.
“I’ll consider that high praise, though not intended to
be,” she retorted saucily.
“Mayhap the captain would be safer on the road.”
Before Jeremy could even meet William’s gaze, the duke
added, “Nay, I think not. Three days of rest will do you
good.” His voice grew husky. “You’ll not kill yourself on
my behalf.”
Jeremy’s jaw clenched. Confined to bed when the
game was afoot! The alliance with York made regaining
his lands that much closer to fruition. And he’d not be
there.
Moreover, naught could be worse than wanting Alicen
and having none near to keep him from her. The woman’s
mere presence turned his every honorable intention to
dust.
Did he have the patience to woo her gently? That
question remained to be answered. And if he wooed and
won her, would the Duke of Tynan see them married?
“Three days?” he asked, bleakly.
“Not a moment earlier without your physician’s
consent.”
“She’ll keep me here a week just to provoke me.”
Alicen arched a brow. “And put myself through such
misery? I think nay.” Her next words dripped with good
cheer. “Best begin healing now, Captain, by eating like a
good lad.” She laid a cloth on his lap and drew up a stool.
“I can feed myself,” he growled.
“Sir Jeremy!” William’s tone was stern, but his eyes
twinkled.
“She’ll likely strangle me in my sleep.”
Alicen slammed the spoon down on the tray so hard
soup splashed from the bowl. “You arrogant, ungrateful
wretch! I’ll not wait until you sleep—I’ll strangle you this
instant.”
“Children, children,” William scolded, his hands raised
for peace. “Must I ask Ned to keep you from each other’s
throats?” Silence. He sighed. “Captain, you are ordered.
Three days’ rest.” He turned to Alicen, clasped her hand
and kissed it. “We’ve sorely abused your largesse,
Mistress, yet I appeal to you—indulge this last patient a
few days more.” He grinned. “Though surly and difficult
to abide, he is my finest soldier. I’m loath to lose him.”
“I’ll strive to see he returns safely, sir.”
“I’ll hold you to that. And thank you for all, Mistress.
Were I not a happily married man, I would make you my
duchess!”
Alicen smiled wryly. “I’m honored you think me so
worthy.”
“Worthy of far more than I can ever repay.” William
bent and kissed her cheek. “Worth more than gold.”
He turned back to Jeremy. “Rest, Captain. We’ll talk
ere I depart.”
Jeremy fought sudden jealousy at William’s exchange
with Alicen, but he masked his irritation. “Send Taft in,
my lord. There are several details he must know.”
Chuckling, William shook his head. “Stubborn man,
obstinate to a fault. But ’tis a minor fault. Until tonight,
Jeremy.”
“The soup grows cold, Captain,” Alicen stated after
William left.
Jeremy smothered his restlessness and let her feed
him. They passed the time silently, and he soon caught
himself watching with unsettling intensity her hands. Her
eyes. Her lips. Lord, their nearness decimated his will.
The clean smell of her hair made him want to release it
from its ribbon and riffle it with his hands. Memories of
holding her brought an ache to his arms that only she
could ease. The ache moved lower.
This was torture, plain and simple.
At last she finished and prepared to remove tray and
dishe
s.
“Do you require aught else? If not, I must to my
chores.”
He had to tear his gaze from exquisite green eyes and
focus rebellious thoughts on his distaste of inactivity. “I’m
fine,” he said, voice oddly rasping. “Perhaps somewhat
tired.”
“Then I’ll leave you to your sleep.” She pulled the
blanket higher around his shoulders, smoothed it, then
left.
His body tingled where she’d touched him. Openly
studying the graceful lines of her slender form, he decided
that, for an uncommonly tall woman, she pleased the
eye.
***
A light touch on his forehead woke Jeremy from sleep.
He opened his eyes to see Alicen bending over him.
“Captain,” she exclaimed, pulling away with a startled
jerk. “I..., I didn’t mean to wake you. I thought to check
for fever...before I retired.”
Feeling her flush spread, Alicen silently cursed that
half-truth. When she’d looked in on him and noted a lock
of black hair had fallen into his eyes, she’d smoothed it
back. Mortified at being caught in such a bold act, she
struggled for composure. Mayhap the candlelight would
not provide him a good view of her features.
Jeremy tensed. “Am I yet ill?” he asked tightly.
A snarl of thwarted purpose threatened to burst from
Jeremy’s throat. Should aught delay his departure, he
feared madness, as Alicen’s nearness tortured him. He
needed distance to retain his honor and not abuse hers.
She smiled a bit shyly. “The rest has done you much
good.”
“Then naught shall prevent my leaving in the morn?”
He couldn’t keep the desperate tone completely from his
voice.
She shrugged, but her nonchalance wasn’t reflected
in the emotion that flashed in her eyes. Sadness? “Another
fever could hinder you, but ’tis doubtful that will happen.”
He fell back on the pillow in relief. “Jesus be praised.”
“Amen,” came her dry response.
Jeremy’s grin faded. Suddenly, he wanted to rail at
her indifference. Could she not know of his regard? Know
he left only to win back his lands in order to win her?
Suddenly, a violent fit of coughing stopped his
brooding and brought Alicen’s brows together. Seeing her
deep concern made him stifle the next spasm.
Without hesitation she placed her hand over his heart.
“Is there pain?”
“Nay.” He coughed again and, at her dubious look
admitted, “Aye. But only when I cough.” Her frown
remained, dismaying him. “‘Twill not detain me, will it?”
If I cannot depart soon, I’ll not be able to keep myself from
you.
She fussed with the blanket before meeting his gaze.
“I know not. Pleurisy will require your remaining here.”
“More idleness will kill me,” he grumbled, feeling his
heart thud dully. “I can’t abide lying abed,” without you
here in my arms.
“Let me see.” Folding the covers back to his waist,
she put her ear to his chest. “Breathe deeply.” He
complied. “Again.”
He took another deep breath and let it out slowly.
Her hair brushing his body inflamed him. Craving a
kiss, he labored to voice only concern for his condition.
Yet his tight throat gave the question an abnormal
huskiness. “Is aught amiss?”
Alicen glanced up. “I’ll know by morn.”
He choked. “I must leave for York in the morn.”
“I’ll not promise you’ll be able.” Plucking a jar from
her nearby tray of medicaments, she added, “Yet, this
balm should clear the congestion and make you fit on
the morrow.”
“But—”
She cocked a brow at him, scooped out a generous
amount of the substance and began rubbing it along his
throat. “Lie still, Captain. Vexation but worsens matters.”
He jumped at her touch, then quickly quelled his
reaction. “What if this doesn’t—”
“Shhh,” she scolded softly, intent on her task. “Worry
won’t aid you.”
Smothering his fears and needs, Jeremy gave in. Spicy
smells filled his nostrils as she spread balm down his
throat and across his shoulders, chest and torso,
kneading with infinite care. Her touch brought no pain
to still tender ribs, providing a soothing caress instead.
His skin grew warm, tingling. Surrendering to
sensation, he relaxed and let his heavy eyelids drop. He
began to drift to sleep.
Then a wave of pleasure hit him.
With a start, his eyes flew open. Sweet Jesus! Leaping
pulse, quickened breath, fire everywhere—he’d rarely
been so aroused. Praying this internal heat burned not
on his face, he tried to throttle his raging thoughts, to
concentrate on the import of the coming days. He could
not think of pleasuring Landeyda’s healer!
Alicen pulled back. “Is the liniment too strong?”
“N..., nay...But I...” He stared at her. “I’m...That’s
sufficient.” His every vision of her combined in a rush of
desire so strong it nearly overwhelmed him.
Alicen looked askance but made no comment. Instead,
she recapped the balm, assisted him into a nightshirt,
then adjusted his blanket. “Don’t concern yourself with
this. Oft the condition worsens with apprehension.”
“I’ll keep that well in mind,” he affirmed, staunchly
avoiding her bewitching eyes or thinking of her maddening
touch.
He thanked his Maker the blanket covered his loins.
Flexing a knee, he lifted his leg to further mask his
condition. He’d always believed lust indicated good health,
but this was an inopportune moment to experience such
recovery. Pitilessly, he crushed his impulse to pull this
woman into bed and love her until neither of them could
move.
Jesu be merciful, he silently pleaded. Give me strength.
He wanted more than a mere tumble with Alicen, more
than brief physical release. He wanted to offer her a
lifetime.
This thought brought no comfort. Until Harold’s
defeat, Jeremy could give Alicen naught except his heart.
He knew from experience that was rarely enough.
A curious look suffused her face as she studied him.
“Should I fetch a sleeping draught for you, Captain?”
“I need naught to help me rest,” he stated. Aught I
need is you here beside me. Beneath me.
“Nay, you’re taut as a drawn bow. Worry o’ertaxes
you.”
Trapped. He couldn’t tell her that her mere presence
set his senses spinning. That he wanted her—his hands
in her thick tresses, his lips on hers, his body deep inside
her. He’d endured serious battle wounds that brought
him less pain than want of her did.
Either he left in the morning or arrived in York too
late to do William service. It was his last night at Landeyda,
perhaps for months. Honor warred
with need. To slake
his desire was to take advantage of Alicen in the basest
manner. Yet, he reasoned, marrying her would purge the
sin he contemplated. And how could making love to the
woman he cherished above all others be sinful?
Thoughts of honor fled when he looked at her. Her
nearness pushed him to the edge of chivalry.
“The drink will make you slumber like a babe,” she
said in her most reassuring tone.
He’d be a misbegotten blackguard to use her, his
conscience taunted.
“Will this potion help my dreams?” he asked, not quite
successfully putting a caustic edge on his voice.
She smiled slightly. “Undoubtedly.”
“I don’t engage in dreaming,” he lied without a twinge
of conscience. “My dreams won’t let me rest.”
With a sigh, she shook her head, moving to the door.
“Trust me without question for once. This will certainly
aid you. By morn your lungs should be clear.”
In her absence, Jeremy battled both mind and body.
He shook from want but chided himself for lacking honor.
Yet he loved her! Must he not express his love intimately?
Upon her return, his decision was made. She offered
him the cup, but he refused.
“Leave it. I’ve no need just now.”
Alicen stared. His anxiety had grown more palpable—
he appeared coiled to strike. Yet, he insisted naught was
amiss. Setting the cup on the stand between the beds,
she fussed a moment with his pillows. She had no reason
to remain, except that she wanted...
“Good night, Captain.” Her voice sounded hollow in
her ears. “Rest well.”
But as she turned to leave, Jeremy seized her arm,
his hand sliding to her wrist when she turned back to
him.
“What?” Her whisper was breathy.
Their gazes locked, exchanged heated promises. Then
Jeremy looked away and released her.
“God rest you, Mistress,” he replied through clenched
teeth, not meeting her eyes.
She left as he ignored with ruthless will his pounding
body. He could not follow. Instead, though it was
madness, he lay admiring her graceful carriage. While
many women practiced seductive gaits, Alicen knew
naught of her sensuality. He found such innocence
alluring. The flame simmering inside him ignited into an
inferno. Christ’s guts, just looking at her drove his senses
Carroll, Laurie - War Of Hearts.txt Page 29