Slamming the bedchamber door behind her, she cursed Guy.
Throwing herself on the bed, she cursed the impossible love that had crept like a thief into her heart.
***
Guy found her in their room a half hour later, standing as still as a statue before the window which overlooked the winding River Usk.
“Leila?”
She did not turn or answer. He saw her shoulders stiffen, and his heart went out to her. By God, if he had anticipated Philip’s outburst, he would never have shared his plans with his brother. To think she had heard all those horrible accusations …
Guy walked to the window, but he did not touch her. She looked so vulnerable, like fragile glass that might shatter on contact.
“Leila,” he said softly, gazing at her profile. “The matter has been settled. You will hear no more dissent from Philip. I want you to try and forget everything he said. Your hospital will be ready tomorrow.”
Unblinking, she stared down at the river.
“We reached an agreement, he and I,” Guy continued, wondering if she was even listening. “If Philip keeps his objections to himself, he will remain my steward. I believe he values his position too highly to trouble you again.” He waited for a reply. None came. “Leila, did you hear me?”
Silence reigned for a long, long moment, but finally her lips parted.
“Those roses in the garden,” she murmured, her low voice almost a whisper. She did not turn her head, but he saw a tear trickle down her cheek. “Damask roses.”
Sighing, Guy knew now that her mind was not on Philip. “What of them, my love?” he asked, pressing her gently.
“How … ?”
Understanding flooded him. “My father brought them back from the Holy Land as a gift for my mother. He was also a crusader knight.”
Another tear slid slowly down her cheek. “They’re so far from home.”
A tightness gripped his throat, her deep hurt becoming his own. Folding her in his arms, he, too, gazed out unseeing at the river. He could say nothing, he was so choked by emotion.
Philip’s words had done their damage. He sensed, deep in his heart, that he and Leila would have to start all over again. At that moment, she was as far from him in spirit as if she were across the Mediterranean Sea, half a world away.
Chapter 23
“May I roll those bandages, Lady Leila?” Nicholas asked, eagerly eyeing the new pile of linen strips atop the table. He pointed with pride at the clumsily rolled bundles he had stacked in a lopsided pyramid. “See, I finished the ones you gave me.”
“So you did,” Leila replied with an indulgent smile, handing him the strips she had just cut from a large bolt of white fabric. “And what a fine job, too. I don’t know how I’d get all my work done without you, Nicholas de Warenne.”
As the little boy giggled and plunged happily into his new task, Leila found herself watching him for a moment.
Truly, what would she have done these past four weeks without Nicholas? He had become her constant companion during the long days she had spent in her hospital, his lively chatter and enthusiasm the tonic she needed to keep her mind off her troubles.
She glanced ruefully around the room lit with late morning sunshine, at the clean-swept floors, whitewashed walls, and tidily made beds.
Her empty hospital.
Few patients had come through her door, and so far none had required an overnight stay. There had been some children with scraped knees and cuts, knights who had drunk too much the night before, a first-time mother still two months from childbirth who had come in with the usual fears and worries, a serving woman with cramps, but not much else. And all of these people had been closely associated with Warenne Castle. She had seen no tenants from the surrounding villages and farms. Not one.
Sighing softly, Leila gazed at Nicholas again. It was funny how he had opted to spend much of his time with her rather than shooting a bow and arrow with his friends, chatting with the castle guard, or playing with his hunting dogs or pet hawk, all things he had said he liked to do. She had to admit she was becoming quite fond of him, which concerned her.
These last weeks had not changed her mind about anything. She still clung fiercely to her plan of escape. She had managed to add some coins to her hidden cache, a portion of the money Guy had given her to spend when traveling merchants and their caravans visited the castle, and now she had his late mother’s ring as well. Yet altogether it still wasn’t nearly enough to pay her way back to Damascus.
She glanced at the wide, filigreed gold band on the third finger of her left hand. Three bloodred rubies glinted like crimson fire in the sunlight filtering through the glazed window.
Guy had given it to her on the same day he had told her about the hospital. Now every time she looked at the ring, she felt a terrible guilt, but there was nothing to be done about it. She was determined to leave him, which meant she was determined to leave Nicholas, too. This empty room was only one small proof that love could not overcome the fact that she didn’t belong here, that she would never be accepted.
Leila threw the child a small smile when he looked up to find her studying him. He grinned and fell back to his work, his small fingers fumbling with a strip as he tried to roll it carefully.
Guy must have looked a lot like Nicholas when he was young, she thought absently, with a light dusting of freckles across his nose and a shock of fair hair that continually fell over his brow. As Nicholas swiped it away, his face scrunched in avid concentration, she almost hated herself for the scheme she nurtured. Yet she could not send Nicholas away, though she knew it was selfish of her to spend so much time with him. The child would probably be hurt when one day she mysteriously disappeared.
Leila was besieged by a now-familiar heartache. She did not even want to think about how Guy would feel.
He had been twice as solicitous of her since that awful scene with Philip, and there had been many times during their nights together when she had questioned the plan that drove her. It was so easy to fear she was making a terrible mistake when she was sated and flushed from passion, his whispers of love lulling her to sleep.
She was glad she hardly saw him in the daytime. That would have made things twice as difficult.
Thankfully Guy had been kept busy dealing with the Welsh insurgents—most of whom had already been caught and punished, their rebellion crushed—and training his knights so they might be ever ready for warfare. Yet though their paths rarely crossed except in the evening, memories of his fervent night whispers haunted her every waking moment, branded as they were upon her heart.
Leila could not suppress a sigh as she touched the glittering ring. Being in love with a man she was desperate to leave was the cruelest torture.
“All done!” Nicholas chirped, shattering her melancholy reverie. He looked at the bare table in front of her. “Aren’t you going to cut any more?”
Leila gave a small laugh which sounded hollow to her ears. “I guess I don’t work as fast as you.” Setting her cutting knife and the bolt of linen on the table, she rose from her stool and fetched his fur-lined jacket from a peg near the door. “I have a better idea, Nicholas. Why don’t you run to the kitchen and tell the cook to send some hot cider and honey rolls to the hospital? We’ve both worked so hard this morning, I’d say we deserve a treat to tide us over until the midday meal. What do you think?”
Nicholas bobbed his head, hardly able to stand still as Leila helped him into his jacket. He ran to the door, calling out to her over his shoulder, “If you cut more bandages, Lady Leila, don’t roll them. I want to do it when I get back!” Then he flew outside, the room becoming eerily silent as if much of its life had been sapped by the child’s departure.
Shivering, Leila closed the door firmly against the brisk wind outside. She had never experienced such low temperatures in Damascus, even at the height of winter. Here, though it was only late fall, she always felt chilled, and on the numerous days when it rained she was miserable i
ndeed.
Guy had told her that colder, wetter weather was yet to come, but she couldn’t imagine it growing any worse. He had also said snow might fall, at least in the hills. The only snow she had ever seen was the year-round frost atop mighty Mount Kassioun, and that only from a distance.
Another first among many, Leila thought with a sense of resignation, donning her fur-lined mantle against the chill. She suspected she might very well see a winter at Warenne Castle unless her cache of coins grew at a faster rate.
Wondering how she might accomplish that, Leila picked up the large coal bucket near the door and went to each of the five braziers set about the room, replenishing them as needed. Straightening up from having filled the last one, she was suddenly assailed by dizziness and dropped the bucket. Coals rolled across the planked floor.
“Oh, no she groaned, sinking down on a bed flecked with coal dust. Resting her flushed face in her hands, she had the very real sensation that she was going to retch. She tried to swallow it down, but—
She upturned the bucket just in time.
When she was finished a few moments later, she knew that her worst suspicion was confirmed. There was another challenge she must face. She was pregnant.
She had hoped against hope that she was wrong when she missed her monthly flux two weeks ago, but the noticeable changes in her body all pointed to the same conclusion. She could have read them from one of her father’s medical texts on childbearing—the swollen tenderness in her breasts, her unusual sluggishness, her pale complexion…
She glanced miserably at the bucket. Now this.
She rose shakily and walked over to the tall cupboard where she kept all her medicines, well out of Nicholas’s reach, and searched through the vials and small crocks until she found the cardamom. Using a pestle and mortar, she crushed the seeds into an aromatic powder, then stirred in some cool water. She didn’t bother to pour the mixture into a goblet. Lifting the pestle, she drank it down, hoping the antinauseant would act quickly.
It did. In minutes she felt better. She dampened a cloth and wiped her face and mouth, grateful that her lightheadedness had all but disappeared. After pulling clean linen from a low drawer and grabbing a broom, she went back to the bed, anxious to clean up the mess before Nicholas returned. She was so intent on changing the coal dust-blackened sheets that she wasn’t aware that the door had opened until she felt a cool breeze on her back.
“Close the door, Nicholas,” she said, “and sit down at the table. I’ll be right there.”
“What happened, Leila? There are coals all the way to the door.”
She gasped, shoving the offensive bucket under the bed as she whirled around.
“Guy!” It still felt strange to call him by his first name, but he had insisted she do so when he gave her the ring. She glanced from the telltale coals at his feet to his concerned face. “I—I tripped, ‘tis all,” she stammered, trying to regain her composure. “While filling the braziers. But I’m fine. Really.”
“The servants should be doing that for you,” he said almost sternly, shutting the door and walking toward her. “Or did you dismiss them again?”
Leila managed a nonchalant shrug, though his unnerving presence made her feel anything but calm. He seemed to dwarf the room.
“It looked to be another slow day, so there was no sense in keeping them here. I thought they might have other things to do.” That was true enough. During the first two weeks she had spent at the hospital, she and the three serving women Guy had chosen to help her had done a lot of staring at each other. Now she just sent them away in the morning, saying she’d call upon them if needed. Attempting to change the subject, she added, “Have you and your men finished training so soon?”
Guy nodded, his face grim as he surveyed the empty room. “Nicholas stopped to watch us on his way to the kitchen. When I asked him how your morning was going, do you know what he said? ‘No sick people today, Papa.’ I’m convinced my tenants have been warned away from your hospital, but I can’t confront the man I believe to be the culprit until I’ve had a chance to find out if there’s any truth in my suspicion.”
“Philip?” she asked softly, though she already sensed it was he. He had avoided her as if she were a leper since they had all stood together in this room.
“Yes. I’m taking some of my men with me into the villages to ask questions. I should know by sunset if Philip has broken our agreement.” Guy reached out and stroked the side of her face. “Are you sure you’re all fight? You’re so pale.”
It was all Leila could do to meet his eyes. “Yes.” She was relieved when Guy drew her into his arms and couldn’t read the truth in her eyes.
He must never know about the child, she vowed fervently, her cheek pressed to his heart. He must never know. Somehow she would have to leave before he ever found out …
“Ah, Leila, you’ve done such a wonderful job preparing this hospital,” Guy said, hugging her tightly. His voice grew impassioned, his body tense. “No one shall take this from you. That I promise. No one.”
She closed her eyes as he lifted her chin, his mouth moving over hers with such poignant intimacy and passion that she could not help but respond. He knew how to ply her, how to set her blood on fire, and he did so now, kissing her until she was breathless.
Her arms snaked around his neck and she leaned against him, her fingers threading through his sweat-damp hair. The chain mail beneath his surcoat pressed into her tender breasts, but she didn’t care, the sensation arousing a desire that ever burned for this man.
She felt his strong hands cup her bottom and she gasped, thinking wantonly of the night he had been so hot for her that he had not waited to remove all of his armor. His engorged shaft, when freed, had been as hard and relentless as the metal sheathing his body, their merging so intense that the memory of it filled her even now with the wildest yearning.
Would he take her now as he had that night? Oh, please. Please …
Her disappointment was painfully acute when he drew back from her, and she dazedly opened her eyes to find him smiling.
“You tempt me beyond all endurance, wife. My body longs for your sweet softness …” His short laugh was more a groan, and he captured her in his fierce embrace. “But I fear our passion must wait until my return. I think we would soon be interrupted by a young boy bringing spiced cider for his mother.”
Leila froze in his arms. “Nicholas called me his mother?”
“Yes. You’ve won his heart. Hasn’t he told you?” She shook her head, stunned.
Guy chuckled as he played with an ebony tendril that had come loose from her braid. “Give him time. He is cautious with his emotions, as was his father until he met his own lady fair.” He pushed her slightly away so he could look in her eyes, his expression serious. “But once the love is given, it is forever.”
Dear God, why, why was he saying this to her? Leila thought wildly. It was one more band of iron around her heart. One more bond she must break to leave him.
She saw a flicker of pain cross his striking features—because she did not answer?—but it was quickly gone and he kissed her again. This time it was a kiss of farewell.
“I must go,” Guy said, releasing her slowly and with obvious reluctance. “Langton, Burnell, and a few others are waiting for me by the gatehouse. Until tonight, my love.”
He strode to the door, calling out to his son, who suddenly appeared on the threshold, “Ho! There you are, Nicholas. And where is the hot cider you promised the beautiful lady?”
“Cook is bringing it,” Nicholas replied, flourishing what looked to be the last of a honey roll. “And more pastries, too!” Giggling, he popped the bit into his mouth and noisily licked his fingers.
Guy glanced wryly at Leila, who was smiling at the boy’s antics despite her deep anguish.
“His manners leave much to be desired, but he’s a good lad.” His gaze trailed over her lingeringly. “And oh, how I envy him his company.” Throwing her a roguish smile t
hat hinted of their reunion later, he rumpled Nicholas’s hair and was gone.
Leila walked to the door, unable to take her eyes from Guy as he crossed the bailey and mounted Griffin. She felt a small sticky hand clutch hers.
“Come on, Lady Leila. Let’s make some more bandages until cook gets here.”
She nodded, watching as the huge gates swung closed behind the small band of six knights, but still she did not move. It was only after she felt an impatient tug that she shut the door and followed Nicholas back into the room.
***
“I’ve heard enough,” Guy said grimly to Henry Langton as they strode from the farmhouse back to where the rest of his men were waiting. “Damn Philip and his pious fervor! No wonder Leila’s hospital has remained virtually empty. He’s scared everyone away with his nonsensical warnings. Eastern witchery. The devil’s magic. I’m going to throttle him!”
He got no response from Henry, nor did he expect one. His usually jovial knight had become more subdued with each farm and village they visited. There were no merry jests to lighten this situation. It was very grave indeed.
Guy swept up the reins dangling on the ground and mounted a restless Griffin. “Let’s get back to the castle before it grows dark,” he muttered, his five knights falling in behind him as he nudged the huge destrier into a thundering gallop.
How dare Philip jeopardize all the progress he had made with Leila? Guy raged inwardly, his gaze piercing the gray dusk settling over the surrounding woods. Just when he was beginning to catch glimpses of a new emotion in her eyes—not defiance, resentment, or simply desire, but something that set hope flaring in his heart—now he would see only disappointment and hurt as she withdrew from him again. Damn!
Half brother or no, Philip would pay for this gross indiscretion. Any man who would so wantonly disregard an agreement could no longer be trusted. On the morrow, there would be a new steward at Warenne Castle.
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