The Amethyst Amulets
Page 18
As she stood catching her breath, Lily spoke up. “I have a suggestion."
"What is it?” She wiped her forehead with the kerchief she'd tied around her neck.
"We should try archery next."
Julie frowned. “Are they ready for that?"
"Perhaps.” Julie shot Lily a quick glance. Could the woman be going to use a little magic of her own to help things along? She hoped not. A person gained confidence by doing something well, something she had worked hard to learn.
"Well, we'll give it a try.” Julie feared it was a skill one learned over a long span of time, years not weeks, but there was no harm in letting the girls shoot a few arrows.
The next day, Julie took her women to a meadow out of sight of the castle. She summoned Will, Nicholas's squire, to escort them and swore him to secrecy. Nicholas had ridden into Barstow Village to settle a dispute between the reeve and the blacksmith, so he wasn't likely to miss his squire until he returned.
Will found a hand cart to haul the targets, set up several painted straw bulls-eyes, then paced off the distance Lily suggested would be right for women archers. Next, he took the bows and quivers of arrows from the cart and laid them out. His tasks finished, Will sat down on a thick clump of grass and watched. Several times, Julie caught him grinning broadly and shook her finger—which only made him laugh.
After the women had changed their clothes in the nearby wood, Lily gave out the bows. Most were meant for older boys whose strength hadn't grown equal to a man's yet. Lily handed Julie and Gwyneth bows with a thirty pound pull. The younger girls had the twenty pound ones.
"Like this?” Julie drew back her bowstring and let an arrow fly. It hit the outside ring of the target.
"Not bad. Try again.” Lily offered another arrow. This time Julie missed completely.
"Again,” said Lily, her face inscrutable. Julie labored until she hit some spot on the target four out of five times.
Then Gwyneth tried several shots with the same degree of success.
"It takes practice.” Lily started the other girls shooting at a different target.
After an hour, Julie looked up at the sun. Because it was nearly time for dinner, she decided to quit for the day. “Nicholas will be back soon,” she whispered to Lily. “I do not want him to find us doing this."
"You think he'd object?” Lily tossed the quivers in the cart while the younger women scurried out to the targets to gather up the arrows. There were a great many lying in the grass and very few in the straw bales themselves.
Julie sighed. “I'm sure he would, even after watching the telly in my time and seeing women surpassing men in many ways. I don't think it was real to him. He believed it was merely entertainment. With actors, you know."
Lily gave a faint smile. “Well, let's not prod the sleeping beast."
"Agreed. Do you think there's any hope for this project?"
"Definitely. Give them a few more days and you'll be surprised."
The girls trooped up, their arms filled with arrows. Lily shoved them into the quivers, then motioned for Will to collect the targets.
With everything stowed away, they set out for the castle.
Will pulled the cart. As he moved off, he slanted a glance in Gwyneth's direction.
"Would you like to walk back with Will?” Julie suspected her lady-in-waiting would jump at the chance.
"Oh yes, please, my lady.” Gwyneth curtsied, then like the long-legged teenager she was, dashed ahead to stroll casually beside Will.
Julie smiled. “Were we ever that young, Lily?"
"I wasn't,” her friend muttered and Julie laughed nervously. Sometimes, she forgot about Lily's otherworldliness.
Julie glanced up at the sky. The sun had gone behind a gray cloud and darker thunderheads were building in the south. “We'd better hurry. It's going to rain soon."
Julie awakened before Nicholas the next day. She lay there listening to his even breathing, wishing she could roll over into his arms. The bed curtains were closed so she could not see his face. But she knew it well enough. Still, she wanted to reach out and trace his strong profile with her fingers, feel his warm skin, the roughness of his morning beard. But that would rouse him, and he'd leave her as he did each day upon awakening. At night, he fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow. It appeared he planned to spend no waking moment in her bed.
His actions didn't surprise her. It was clear he wanted no temptation in his path, that he thought he'd besmirched his honor by giving in to desire and lying with her. Now he was trying to atone. She inched over and lightly touched his silky hair. Why was she torturing herself like this?
If only there was a convincing way to show him she was no threat to his marriage. She would go back to her own time, and Julianne would reappear from wherever she was. Julie was now quite sure, Julianne knew nothing of what was happening between her husband and Julie. At first, she'd feared Julianne would listen to all that was said—or felt. But after Nicholas told her about his life inside Nick, she felt better.
While she was thinking, Nicholas began to stir. She'd hoped he would sleep a little longer, let her enjoy his warmth, the scent of leather and outdoor life which surrounded him, the sound of his breathing. He yawned and stretched, not yet aware of her closeness. The exact moment he noticed, she felt him stiffen.
"Good morning,” she said softly. “Did you sleep well?"
"As always.” He rolled away from her and sat up. Pulling the curtains aside, he left the bed. She listened to him dress although she could see nothing. He moved as swiftly as if the Devil were one step behind him. And maybe he was.
The door shut, and she heard the distant thud of his boots on the stone steps. She didn't move. If she followed him down, he would forego his breakfast and disappear, not to be seen again until dinnertime when he addressed his only comments to Sir Edgar. If she spoke, he answered politely, then turned away again. And so each day had gone for over a month.
She dozed for a while. Then as the room grew lighter, she started to rise. As her feet hit the floor, an unpleasant roiling in her stomach made her gasp. It grew stronger until the incipient nausea forced her to quickly locate the chamber pot. For several minutes, she retched. Just when her stomach seemed about to turn inside out, the feeling subsided, leaving her weak and drained.
She changed her mind about rising, lay back and shut her eyes. What had she eaten last night to cause such a reaction? Nothing Nicholas hadn't eaten, since they shared a trencher. A disagreeable thought began to form in her mind. At first, she pushed it away. It couldn't be happening to her. Not now. Not in a time with no hospitals and no knowledgeable doctors.
Oh, God! She was pregnant. Only that one night—yet they'd made love a number of times, each one increasing the odds of conception. She didn't regret carrying Nicholas's baby, but the timing was horrible.
She lay still for a long time, taking deep breaths and trying to find the strength to get up and wash out her mouth. Then a light tap sounded on the door.
Oh, no. Gwyneth had come to dress her and do her hair. She could think of no reason to refuse entry to her lady-in-waiting.
"Come in,” she called, trying to sound more robust than she felt.
Gwyneth opened the door and came toward the bed, a worried expression on her face.
"Are you all right, my lady?” She peered down at Julie, then wrinkled her nose as she smelled the chamber pot.
"I'm fine.” What a fib. She hadn't felt this wretched since a stomach bug had laid her low a few years ago.
"Are you ready to rise?” Gwyneth still looked anxious.
"No, I'm really tired today.” She should eat something, but what? The thought of food almost made her stomach rebel again. Tea and soda crackers. Yeah, right. “I'd like a little bread, please, Gwyneth. And some water."
The girl scurried away and returned with a cup and a hunk of bread. “This is not very much to fill your stomach until dinner,” she said, helping Julie to a sitting posit
ion.
Julie shuddered. The very thought of rich meats and sauces gagged her.
"Oh, my lady, I think you are sick after all. I will summon Lord Nicholas."
"No, you won't, dear. He's busy, and I don't want to bother him. I must have eaten something which disagreed with me, but I'm all right now."
Gwyneth didn't look reassured. “Mayhap I should find Lily."
"Yes, do find Lily. I need to speak with her.” This was not part of what Nicholas required of her. At least he hadn't said so.
Gwyneth hurried off, and Julie let her mind wander. Julianne had become pregnant and had had a baby son whom Nicholas wanted to protect. But Julianne had died in childbirth. Much as Julie had come to love Nicholas, she didn't want to die. But would events repeat themselves? In this strange world anything seemed possible. She would need some reassurance from Lily that her fate would be different from the unlucky Julianne.
In a few minutes, Lily arrived. She walked over to the bed and stared down at Julie. “You and Nicholas finally made love.” A statement, not a question.
Julie forgot her unsettled tummy. “That isn't all we made, and the proof of it should be here in about seven and a half months."
Lily nodded. “So, the baby is a given. I wonder what else we cannot avoid."
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Chapter 16
The next day as Nicholas was getting ready to exercise Archangel, three horsemen came trotting through the gates, one carrying the king's banner.
"I wonder what Henry wants?” Nicholas murmured. The appearance of the king's messengers seldom boded well.
The riders dismounted. One approached Nicholas and bowed. “My Lord of Barstow, the king sends greetings and says he requires your presence at court forthwith."
Nicholas's heart sank. Without a doubt, Henry wanted him at Westminster for some tame jousting or worse—standing around kissing ladies’ hands. But on second thought, this might work in with his plans. He could probably slip away and recruit new mercenaries for his army. Then he would send them back to Barstow to begin training with Sir Edgar.
But that presented another problem. How long would Henry demand he stay? Nothing bored Nicholas more than the insipid damsels of Queen Eleanor's retinue. And like the rest of London, he disliked the queen who had wrapped Henry around her little finger and made him give wealthy appointments to her foreign relatives instead of worthy Englishmen.
Then another thought struck him like a lightning bolt and almost as deadly. Julie. How could he leave her here alone with only Lily to watch over her? The idea of his wife improving everything in sight or mayhap letting slip something about her origins, made him decidedly uncomfortable.
Shaking off his unease, he glanced up. The messenger stood waiting for an answer. “Do you know why Henry has sent for me?"
The man shook his head. “I know not, my lord. Only that we are to escort you to him."
Nicholas nodded. “You will find food in the kitchen."
A groom took the men's horses, and Nicholas walked slowly across the bailey, wondering what to tell Julie, and how she would react when she learned of his imminent departure. He could easily imagine her demanding to accompany him. She would love a first hand look at the king and his court. All grist for that book she was writing. He shook his head. A woman writing a book! A man could seldom fathom the mystery of a woman's mind.
In their chamber, a surprise awaited him. Julie was still asleep, although someone had propped some pillows behind her head. She must have been awake earlier. Her breasts rose and fell in rhythm with her breathing. He found himself staring, wanting to cup his hands around those soft mounds and wake her with a kiss. He did neither, despite the temptation. Strange that the noise from his boots on the stone floor had not awakened her...mayhap she was unwell.
Some bread lay on the table beside the bed. Had she broken her fast in bed?
He touched her shoulder. “Julie?"
A soft sigh escaped her pink lips. Her violet eyes blinked open and met his.
"Oh, Nicholas.” Julie struggled to rise. She looked disconcerted, though why, he did not know. Mayhap she believed he would think her lazy.
"Lie back, Julie. Are you unwell?” He hoped not. Her time had miraculous cures for many illnesses with which his time coped poorly. Should she sicken, he would, of course, make Lily send her back. He did not want her death on his conscience, too. But he would miss her in so many ways. Although he could not lie with her, having Julie in his life pleased him greatly.
"No, I'm fine. Just a bit tired this morning, that's all.” But her gaze dropped.
Was she lying? Oh, God, not this morning. He had mercenaries to procure, a king to please, and now, mayhap, Julie was sick. “If you are so fine, why have you not risen?” He scowled as once more she glanced away.
"I must have fallen asleep again.” She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She wore only her shift, so her bare legs caught his instant attention.
He gulped. She was such a perfect little creature. He could never get his fill of staring at her and all her delightful parts. Even if this was Julianne's familiar body, having Julie within her made everything seem different.
"I need to speak with you,” he said, sounding more gruff than he meant to. Trying to cover his male reaction to her loveliness, he settled on a stool and draped his arms across his thighs.
"All right.” She reached for a linen cloth and began washing.
"A messenger from the king just arrived. Henry commands my presence at court immediately.” He was gratified to see her swing around and give him a wide-eyed stare. So, she was not happy to have him leave. That pleased him.
Her expression turned a bit fearful. “You're leaving me here alone?"
"For now. At least, until I discover what the king has in mind. I will send word if I wish you to join me. Besides, you would have to ride a horse for many miles.” He grinned, remembering her timid approach to Archangel the night they rode together to Barstow Village.
"That's true. But I could do it if I had to.” Her chin tilted in that defiant gesture which both amused and endeared her to him.
"I must have your promise you will not do something about the—what did you call it?—ah, I have it—the plumbing. I know it is not to your liking, but I have had little time to decide how to make changes, much less do them."
"It's all right, Nicholas. I won't be here long enough to need running water."
Disappointment surged through him. He wanted his life with Julianne back, yet he found Julie far more stimulating—both to his mind and his unruly male part. And, that was his true sin. He clenched his fists, telling himself he must do better, knowing well enough he would not.
"Also, you must be constantly aware that what you say, may be misconstrued,” he continued. “Please, do not try to change things while I am gone."
Julie frowned. “Of course, I won't. Believe it or not, I've managed to take care of myself for many years. Successfully."
"That was in your time."
"So?” Julie pulled her gown over her head. The back gaped open, and after trying several times to do up the ties, she backed up to Nicholas.
He stood and picked up the laces. The familiar scent of lilacs assaulted his senses. Glad her back was to him, he began tightening the laces. He purposely took his time, reveling in the sweet scent of her and the softness of her golden hair as it lay across her shoulders. “Just remember to be very careful,” he managed, swallowing hard. He gained control of himself and gave a final yank to the ties.
"All right, I will."
Julie turned to face him. She would not tell him about the baby. It was too soon to be sure anyway. And if she had this baby, he might never allow her to go home. Would he see the child as hers, not Julianne's and make her stay to nurture the baby? She felt the blood drain from her head and put a hand on his arm to steady herself.
"Are you sure you're all right?” A note of anxiety edged his question.
He stood gazing down at her for a moment, his amber eyes glowing with desire. Then, he shook his head. “No, nothing more. I will need to take some of my better clothing as Henry fancies his court well-dressed. Will you lay them out?"
"Certainly.” A surge of pride swept through her, pride that Nicholas would trust her to select his court clothes, pride that he would treat her as his wife in a homey thing like packing. He could be irritating, but he had definitely become her knight in shining armor.
She went to the window and looked down. Nicholas's squire, Will, was hightailing it across the bailey, a cloth fluttering in his hand. Maybe he was off to polish his master's armor. Thinking she knew more about chain mail than court clothes, she opened the chest and began laying out garments which seemed appropriate to wear in a king's presence.
Nicholas clattered down the stairs and strode into his accounting room. He slammed the door and dropped down on a chair. No matter how many vows he made to God, his body demanded something far removed from celibacy. When Julie was elsewhere, he believed in abstinence—no problem. But put him in the same room with her and his senses reeled, his good resolutions forgotten.
He struck his forehead with his palm. “Dolt! How can you keep this demesne together when your prick rules your head,” he muttered. Mayhap Henry's summons had come just in time to prevent any more foolish mistakes. And London would put many miles between them.
With a sigh, he pulled the estate records to him. He began making entries of the latest purchases and totaling up the amount of grain harvested the day before. For a while, he worked at a furious pace, wanting to drive all thought of Julie from his head.
A knock at the door broke his concentration. “Come."
Leonard, the soldier who took things to Eleanor and retrieved messages from Eldred, entered. “My lord."