Tallie's Knight
Page 28
Tallie hurriedly thrust her hand in a fold of her skirts.
"Signora, you permit?" Tallie shook her head and moved to step back,
but the doctor ignored her. He reached down, gently brought her hand
from its hiding place, and examined it. He swore softly in Italian.
"Why did you not say something?" he said in a low, angry voice.
Tallie shook her head, embarrassed.
"It's nothing--a bit stiff, that's all."
Carlotta came up behind him and peered curiously over his shoulder.
She gasped. Tallie's left hand was black and blue with bruises, where
her husband had gripped it in his fever. Several fingers were
swollen.
She could hardly move them.
"Ice for the signora's hand, immediately," the doctor snapped.
Carlotta ushered Tallie from the room in a tender rush, scolding her
gently in Italian, interspersing her comments with shrill calls to the
servant to hurry up with the ice.
Tallie had no choice but to be swept away in the motherly embrace. It
was strange, but oddly comforting to have someone fussing over her,
even for such a trivial matter. No one had ever done it before, not
even when she had been ill at school. She couldn't recall her mother
very well, but perhaps her mother had fussed over her like this when
she was a baby. Tallie laid her good hand on her belly, feeling the
faint swelling beneath it. One day she, too, would fuss over this
child the way that Carlotta was fussing over her. It was a wonderful
thought. A tear trickled down her cheeks. Oh, heavens, she was more
tired than she realised.
Her hand was plunged into a bowl of ice-water, and after the first
excruciating pain there was a blessed numbness. After a while the
feeling started to come back. It throbbed, but not as badly as
before.
Carlotta smoothed on some foul-smelling ointment and wrapped the hand
lightly in a cloth, then bustled her into a huge warm nightgown and
tucked her into bed.
"Signora... Carlotta, I must thank you--' Tallie began, but Carlotta
shushed her and pressed her gently back on the pillows, smoothing her
hair with a gentle rhythmic touch. She started humming--a lullaby,
Tallie supposed--and a faint smile crossed her lips as she recognised
that she was indeed being mothered like a small child. It was foolish,
for she was a grown, married woman, and not a child at all... but it
was very comforting... She closed her eyes and slept.
"Magnus, you must stay in bed! The physician said--' " Damn that
blasted leech. I have no intention of idling--' "But you are not yet
strong enough--' Magnus flung back the covers and swung his legs to the
edge of the bed. He sat there a moment, then shakily stood up,
gripping the carved wooden bed head for support.
Tallie, despite her anxiety, found herself smiling. Carlotta's late
husband had evidently been much shorter than Magnus, for his nightshirt
dangled well above Magnus's knees. The length of hard, hairy leg
looked incongruous beneath the embroidered linen. She bit her lip and
tried to look cross.
"You are not supposed to be up this soon," she said severely.
"Nonsense. I feel perfectly well. And besides I am bored--' " But--'
"And damnably lonely," he finished, giving her a heated look.
Tallie blushed. This time she could not stop the smile which quivered
on her lips. She, too, had been lonely in the bed next door. It was
amazing how quickly one could become accustomed to sharing a bed. Only
a few months ago she had been unable to imagine it as anything but an
intrusion, an inconvenience, an invasion of her privacy. but now she
would not wish to fall asleep anywhere except in her husband's warm, j
strong arms. She'd missed his warmth, missed the wonderful || feeling
of belonging, the feeling of safety she felt when she fell asleep in
his embrace. She loved waking up in the night and finding his long
hairy leg wrapped around hers, loved resting her cheek on his smooth,
hard chest and hearing his heart thudding steadily under her ear, loved
the way he sometimes woke her in the morning. "Morning, sweetheart..."
knowing that it was the prelude to a splendid bout of lovemaking.
She loved those mornings best, watching his sleepy eyes focus, then
darken into that brooding, storm-cloud grey that meant he wanted to
make love to her. The look never failed to thrill her. And the feel
of his unshaven jaw scraping sensuously against the softness of her
skin. A pleasurable shudder passed through her. Yes, she had been
lonely in her bed, too.
"Fetch me that robe, would you?" Magnus said.
"It's chilly."
The man was impossibly stubborn! She didn't want to assist him, but he
was clearly going to get up whether or not she agreed, and it was cold.
Reluctantly she went to do his bidding, but before she reached the hook
where the robe was hanging he took a few steps and wavered
dangerously.
She raced back to his swaying form.
"I told you it was too early to venture out of bed," she scolded.
"The physician said you must rest for another few days and regain your
strength before you try to move. If you try too soon, you could have a
relapse."
"Damned quack!"
"He saved your life."
"What would a blasted village leech know?"
Tallie, incensed by his stubbornness, abruptly let him go and stood
back. Magnus swayed. His knees started to buckle. She gave him a
tiny push and he collapsed onto the bed, swearing.
Hiding a triumphant smile, she bent to lift his legs back into the bed,
but with a jerk Magnus pulled her on top of him.
"That's more like it," he growled in soft satisfaction, and planted his
mouth on hers.
Tallie gave up the struggle. It was bliss to be back in his arms
again, and a kiss wouldn't tax his strength too much, surely. She
kissed him back with all the fervour in her heart. Oh, she loved this
stubborn man so much. His kiss deepened, and hazily she felt his hands
seeking to undo the fastenings of her gown.
"Madonna mia! Stop that at once! It is not the time!" It was
Carlotta in the doorway.
Magnus swore. Tallie tried to pull back from his embrace, but he
refused to let her go. Trust his strength to come back now, she
thought, embarrassed.
"Signora Thalia, Signer Magnus, you must stop it now! Basta! Enough!"
"Out, damn it, signora! Now!" snapped Magnus.
"A man and his wife are entitled to... to-Confound it, Tallie, what's
the Italian for privacy?"
Carlotta ignored him. She hurried over to the bed, scolding in an
under voice and tugged Tallie off.
"Quick!" she whispered.
"Fasten your gown. And as for you. Signer Magnus--' She broke off and
began to smooth the covers over him.
"Blast you, woman--' " Hush! " Carlotta snapped.
"It is the Father."
"What father? I haven't got a father," retorted Magnus angrily.
"Damn it, woman, what the devil do you think you are doing?" He tried
to fend off the hands that were busily buttoning his nigh
tshirt to the
neck, but Carlotta would have none of it.
"It is the Father!' she hissed. Footsteps sounded on the landing
outside and she turned, smoothed her dress with quick, anxious hands
and waited, a deferential smile on her lips.
"Hell and the devil confound you, woman, I told you I haven't got a
fath--' The door opened and an elderly priest in a long black robe
entered. He paused on the threshold, took out a small vial and
sprinkled a few drops of liquid around the room, murmuring in Latin.
"Holy water," whispered Carlotta, crossing herself.
Magnus closed his eyes in resignation and Tallie stifled a giggle.
What if the priest had just walked in on them? Thank heavens Carlotta
had come in first. But what was he doing here anyway?
"How do you do?" the priest said in slow, rusty English.
"I am Father Astuto. Carlotta tell me you make the difficult..." he
frowned, then his brow cleared 'convalescence. " He bowed, clearly
delighted at having remembered such a complicated word.
"I come to entertain you with English conversation. I speak the
English well, no? So we shall converse."
He placed his vial of holy water on the bedside stand, pulled up a
chair and sat facing Magnus with such a look of pleased and proud
expectancy that Tallie was hard put to it to maintain a straight
face.
Magnus groaned and rolled his eyes.
"You are in pain, my son." Father Astuto laid a thin, veined hand on
Magnus's brow.
"Do not try to talk. Repose yourself and I will talk to you of my life
and my travels. It will be of great interest to an Englishman. I was
born in the small village of-' A smothered choke of laughter escaped
Tallie. Magnus opened one eye and glared balefully at her. Clapping a
hand over her mouth, she hurried from the room. Behind her. Father
Astuto's voice droned on.
"Coffee, Signora Thalia?" said Carlotta, following her down the
stairs.
"The Father, he will stay at least three hours."
"Th ... three hours?" quavered Tallie.
Carlotta nodded.
"Three, possibly four." She gave Tallie a sly glance.
"That will keep your husband quiet, no?"
Tallie's jaw dropped. She stared- at her hostess incredulously.
"You mean?"
'The Dottore said he must stay in bed, yes? And who better to keep him
there than Father Astuto? He loves to practise his English. He will
come every morning for the rest of the week. "
Carlotta winked.
"And if your husband doesn't sleep for the rest of the afternoon, then
Father Astuto is losing his touch."
"Carlotta, you are brilliant!" Tallie exclaimed.
"I couldn't keep him from over-exerting himself, but Magnus is too
polite to argue with a priest... especially such a sweet old man. How
splendidly devious!"
And she laughed until tears ran down her cheeks.
Finally she sat drinking Carlotta's strong, milky coffee. Magnus was
recuperating safely and she had no need to worry about him anymore.
And with Carlotta and Father Astuto's help he would be out of the way
for at least a week. This was the opportunity she hoped she might
get.
A chance to trace the last footsteps of her mother.
"Signora Carlotta," she said slowly.
"My parents are both dead."
"Ahh, you poor child--' Carlotta began, her broad face crumpling in
sympathy.
"They died in Italy," Tallie interrupted the flow.
"What? In Italia? No."
"Yes, somewhere between Turin and the mountains."
"Eh? Near Torino, you say?"
Tallie nodded.
"Yes, but I'm not sure where, exactly. Near some small village. There
was a coach accident. It was about seven years ago. Did you hear of
anything like that happening around here?"
Carlotta frowned.
"You say your mamma and your papa died in this accident?" She shook
her head slowly.
"I do remember something about an Englishman's coach... It was near the
village where my husband's sister-in-law's uncle lives, but I do not
remember anything about an English lady in the coach. And I would
know, yes, for English ladies are not common in these hills." She
patted Tallie's hand sympathetically.
"I am sorry, child."
Tallie felt the excitement inside her grow. It was as the letter had
said. Her mother had not died in the coach accident with her father.
"But you do remember a coach accident where an Englishman was killed?
About seven years ago? "
Carlotta nodded.
Tallie took a deep breath.
"Carlotta, can I trust you?"
Carlotta frowned, and drew herself up as if insulted.
"But of course--' " No one, not even my husband, knows this secret,"
Tallie said hastily.
"Especially not my husband."
Carlotta's eyes gleamed.
"I swear by the robe of the Holy Virgin, I keep your secret to the
grave," she said, crossing her breast quickly.
She spat into her palm and offered it to Tallie, who shook it
gingerly.
"I thought my parents died together in the coach accident, but a few
years ago I received a letter which said that my father was killed but
my mother died a week before, in a small village."
Carlotta frowned.
"I have not heard of this."
Tallie continued in a rush.
"The letter said she died giving birth... to a little boy. It said
that my father believed my mother had been unfaithful and that he would
have no foreigner's bastard foisted onto him." She fixed her eyes on
Carlotta.
"The letter said he left the baby behind in the village where my mother
was buried."
Carlotta looked stunned. She shook her head in disbelief at such
goings-on.
"Carlotta, don't you realise? All my life I have been without a
family, with no one in the world who belongs to me. No one who loves
me."
"But your husb--' Tallie waved that aside. She didn't need to burden
Carlotta with the knowledge that while Magnus might act possessively
towards his wife he did not love her.
"It's not the same. But perhaps, in some small village not far from
here, there is a small boy who also believes he belongs to no one. But
if the letter is right, and there is such a boy, he has a sister--a
sister who wants him, who will love him." Her eyes sheened with
tears.
"I want to search for him, Carlotta, and I need your help."
"But why not wait until your husband is well?"
"He mustn't know."
"But why, cara? " I know we told you that we were Signer and Signora
d'Arenville, but the truth is, in England, my husband is a great lord,
from a proud and ancient family. It was bad enough that he chose a
nobody for his wife, but what do you think his feelings would be if the
nobody wanted to search for her bastard half brother? " Tallie shook
her head. She loved her husband, but she was not blind. He had chosen
a nobody because she would cause him the least amount of bother.
And the only child Magnus was i
nterested in was an heir to carry on his
family name. Certainly he would have no interest in a bastard child of
unknown parentage, possibly half- foreign and raised in a small and
probably dirty peasant village. She could just imagine what he--and
everybody else-would say. But if she found her brother first. Magnus
was not the only one who could be stubborn.
"Do you honestly think my husband would help me? Or would he hurry me
back to England and thus prevent a scandal?"
Carlotta's eyes were sombre. She nodded.
"I will help you, car a. I know of these great proud lords. If we can,
we will find your little brother. But are you sure Signer Magnus would
deny him shelter?"
"Shelter, no," said Tallie with feeling.
"In an orphanage or school, perhaps. Or he might pay a tenant to keep
him. But if I do have a little brother, I want more for him. I never