His wet shirt was plastered to his chest. Rebeka watched, swallowing hard. He walked with slow strides, as if he had all the time in the world, but there was a hard purposeful set to the corner of his mouth. He stopped, inches away, his eyes narrowed into slits as he addressed her in a controlled voice laced with danger.
“Woman, it is clear you aren’t accustomed to our ways. It’s not your place to either interfere or instruct my men. Don’t mistake my bringing you here for forgiveness for your offense earlier today. I wouldn’t let a dog stay out in this weather.” He looked at her with steely cold eyes. The only sound in the room was the crackling fire and the drumming of the rain on the windows. In a scathing tone he spit out, “At least a dog obeys!” Arik turned, dismissing her.
Rebeka couldn’t stop herself. “Well, if you haven’t the sense to give complete information, someone needed to do it for you.” She wanted to pull him around and make him face her. Arik ignored her.
Doward grabbed her by the shoulders and moved her back to the other side of the fireplace. “Stay here, dry off, but more importantly keep still.”
Sweating and simmering, she tried to look at ease while she grabbed at the fireplace for support. Her leg was killing her but she refused to admit to the pain. “Lord Arik, may I take her ladyship and make her more comfortable?” It was the woman, Jeannie, who had brought ale. Rebeka had noticed Doward speak to her.
Arik appeared engrossed with the storm damages. He waved to Jeannie without a glance at her or Rebeka, drank his ale and remained focused on his men.
Rebeka used every ounce of energy she had to walk out of the hall tall, in control and without limping. Once out of Arik’s view, she gave in to the pain and limped slowly up the stairs behind Jeannie to one of the guest rooms.
“Here we are, m’lady. My name is Jeannie.” She started a fire in the hearth. “I’ll be back. I want to get some scented soap. It’s a wonderful mix of lavender and rose. And I think a good hot cup of tea would suit you fine.”
Jeannie came back with tea and soap followed by servants carrying a tub. They placed it by the fireplace and filled it with buckets of hot water.
“I noticed your scrapes and brought Lady Leticia’s salve. She made different types of creams. This one is for healing. It heals almost everything. Some say her salves are magic but they are only good herbs used wisely.”
Rebeka examined the salve, wincing as she got up. “Yarrow and olive oil with a touch of rose water.”
“Yes, m’lady, you have a fine nose for herbs.” Jeannie caught a glimpse of the bandage on Rebeka’s thigh. “I noticed the wound on your leg. I’ll help you.”
Rebeka stiffened. She wasn’t about to let anyone touch her leg.
“M’lady, the wound on your leg is bad. The salve will help the healing but I think it’s worse than I first suspected. I must look at it.” She handed Rebeka a cup of hot tea and looked closely into her eyes and at the gray look of her skin. She felt Rebeka’s head. “M’lady, you’re feverish. It’s not a good sign.”
Rebeka knew Jeannie was right. The last thing she needed was an infection. A bad infection could lead to amputation here. Arik would enjoy that little scene. If she kept a watchful eye on Jeannie, it would be all right. She set the cup down, sat and began to take off the makeshift bandage.
She looked at the rag. Maybe I could soak it. I may not get all the blood out but it would be usable. She took a deep breath and almost smiled. What am I thinking? The scarf is beyond salvaging. Let it go. Losing the scarf won’t stop me from getting back.
Jeannie took a long look at the exposed wound and sat back. “M’lady, I’m afraid this will be very painful. This is not a fighting wound. It’s jagged. The skin is pulled apart.” Rebeka saw that the bleeding had started again. “See, it is red and your skin is almost hot. Luckily, I don’t see any signs of putrification.”
Jeannie took a closer look. She didn’t seem too pleased. “It’s good you kept it as clean as you did. We need to stop the bleeding, clean and stitch it. I’m afraid it will scar badly, m’lady. The salve may help.”
“Jeannie, I’m not certain it needs stitching. I’ve kept it clean. Perhaps we can put on the salve, bandage it and see how it heals.”
Gone was Jeannie’s casual manner. In its place was a commanding yet gentle tone. “No, m’lady, we can’t wait. The wound should have been stitched immediately. I’m surprised Lord Arik didn’t see to it. The longer we wait the worse it’ll be. I’m concerned it will fester if we don’t take care of the wound at once. No, it needs to be stitched or the hot iron.”
Rebeka looked again at her leg closely. She peered at the woman and was overcome by her look of compassion and determination. Some inner voice soothed her anxiety and left her with the notion that Jeannie was more than competent. She had the overwhelming feeling that she was in good hands. Besides, the woman looked like she had no intention of leaving before she stitched her leg. If she didn’t cooperate, she was certain Jeannie would call in reinforcements possibly the great lord himself. The last thing she wanted to do was have Lord Arik hold her down while Jeannie stitched up her leg or applied the hot iron.
Gently but firmly Jeannie took Rebeka’s hand. “M’lady, I’ve stitched up many in my time.”
Rebeka took a deep breath. “You’re right, Jeannie. It needs stitching. Small stitches close together would be best. It’ll help with the healing and the scarring. You did boil the needle and the thread?”
Jeannie smiled. “Come drink this. It’ll ease the discomfort of the stitching.” Rebeka reluctantly took the tankard and brought it up to her nose. It was a fragrant brew.
“What’s in this besides white willow and honey?”
“It has one drop of henbane, m’lady.”
Rebeka nodded.
“The pain should soon subside.”
It didn’t take long for Rebeka’s breathing to slow. Looking relaxed, Rebeka leaned into the back of the soft chair and placed her leg onto the footstool.
“Is there a lady of the house I should thank?”
“No, m’lady. Lady Leticia died six years ago. The people miss her still.”
Maybe that’s why his lordship is so obnoxious? He’s lost without his lady, thought Rebeka.
“Lady Leticia’s duty was to protect the land,” Jeannie continued. “It was a happy family. But six years ago, the land began to fail and so did Lady Leticia. No matter what anyone did, she kept getting worse and worse until she died.”
Jeannie finished cleaning the wound and stitched it with small even stitches. “Ah there you are, m’lady. Good as new. I’ve some linseed oil to help prevent the scarring but not tonight. Let it be for the night.”
Rebeka looked at the good work Jeannie did.
“Now then, I’ll leave you to your bath. I have left some clean, more appropriate clothes.” She raised an eyebrow looking at the clothes Rebeka wore. “I’ll be back with the evening meal.”
“Thank you, Jeannie.” Rebeka took off her clothes, what was left of them, and stepped into the bath. Keeping her stitched leg out of the water, she sank down luxuriating in the soothing heat, her mind blank. She hummed softly as she gathered her thoughts and ticked off a short list of “To Dos.” One, fit in. Two, how to handle Arik? I’ll have to treat him as I do Dean Marshall. He thinks women can’t think for themselves. Okay, so I listen, agree and do what I know is right. Eventually he’ll come around. The Dean does. So two, stay clear of Arik. Three, figure out how I got here then use the information to find the way back. Satisfied with her plan, she closed her eyes to enjoy the last of the water’s heat.
Rebeka stepped out of the tub, dried herself off, applied the salve to the scrapes and wrapped herself in the robe Jeannie left. She got her brush out of her pouch, sat in front of the fire and began to dry her hair.
“Ah, I see you have finished your bath. I’ve brought you something to eat.” Jeannie carried a tray as she entered the room.
The rich aroma of beef broth with onions a
nd carrots got her attention. That and the crusty bread and cheese reminded Rebeka she was hungry.
“If there is nothing else, I’ll be off.” Jeannie went over, looked into Rebeka’s eyes and felt her cheeks. “It looks like the fever is down but we’ll know better in the morning.”
“Thank you, Jeannie.”
Rebeka cozied up in front of the fire, the savory aroma of dinner hard to ignore, and began to eat. The hearty soup warmed and satisfied her. Little by little, she relaxed. Her body unwound and so did her mind. She looked at the pictures of the meadow and the signpost. 1605. It must be the stones.
Unconsciously, she crooned a song her father taught her. She had gotten lost in the woods behind their house as a child—the very thought brought a lump to her throat. When her dad finally found her, he taught her the silly song as they trekked back to the house. It soothed her then and it soothed her now. The song over, she stretched out on the bed calm and refreshed. As she drifted off to sleep, she heard the soft rumbling of a rich deep voice, Arik’s voice.
“Woman!”
She frowned. She couldn’t get away from his admonishments even in her sleep.
The captains were still in the hall with Arik. He felt more than heard music, a soft sound. The thoughts charging around in his mind slowed, the information falling into place like pieces of a puzzle. A sense of calm settled over him. He saw his brother relax and watched as concern washed from the faces of his captains. The song’s signature had to be Logan’s. Who else’s could it be? Logan and Doward were the only ones beside him who could use druid powers so subtly and skillfully. Arik returned his focus to the debriefing.
“Everyone understand their orders?” Arik’s men nodded.
“That’ll be all.” He dismissed them and turned to see Logan waiting for him.
“Do you really want to talk to her now? I’m not certain this is a good time to interrogate her,” said Logan as they walked out to the stairs.
“Yes, best to get this over with. She should be quiet by now.” He marched up the stairs, leaving Logan at his room. Arik was determined to find out more about Rebeka. She would be tired and apt to be more complacent. At least that was how he found most women, agreeable at night.
He opened Rebeka’s door without knocking to keep her off guard. He expected a confrontation. He did not expect to find her asleep. She slept facing the door. With her quiet, and not challenging him, he took a better look at her. Her face was much improved. Jeannie must have used some of Leticia’s healing cream. The weak light from the hall played softly over her one bare shoulder and long dark hair lay spread out over the pillow. Her bare leg was over the covers, the newly stitched wound in full view. He took a closer look. Small stitches closed the jagged gash, the stitching obviously Jeannie’s fine work. He straightened all at once, remembering her leg bleeding during the fight. He took another close look at the wound. The skin around it looked inflamed. How did she fight with such a wound, and then ride across the Stone, and endure the grueling ride to the Manor? When she should have spoken up, she remained quiet. Frustrated, he stood up and raked his hand through his hair.
She also intrigued him with her fighting ability and her self-assured manner—both of which he would have to control. He couldn’t let her go around undermining his authority. Is that why she is here? Has she come to invade from within the walls?
He could not help wondering about her and her mission. He had instructed his field captains to step up training and stay alert, to keep an eye on her and give him daily reports. It was all they could do for now. He was confident the proper controls were in place. He moved out of his shadow to get a better look at her. She was enticing as well as intriguing which could be a deadly combination if he wasn’t careful. He leaned a little closer trying to decide if he should wake her. He caught a whiff of lavender and rose. He took a deeper breath. Pleasant, he thought. He relaxed a bit and caught the acrid smell of Leticia’s brew. Of course, Jeannie always gave a dose when she stitched. No wonder the woman slept so soundly. He moved the hair away from her face to get a better look.
The slight brush of his fingertips against her soft cheek set off a deep tingling sensation. He pulled his hand away as if burned by a flame. He felt the same sensation when she sat in his lap crossing the river. He smiled, remembering her reaction when he whispered in her ear. He stood up and let out a deep breath. He didn’t want any more confrontations this day. Another opportunity would arise soon enough. He wouldn’t wake her. If he did, it wouldn’t be to question her. He left her room, quietly closing the door behind him.
Chapter Nine
Rebeka watched the morning sun burn off the silver gray mist until only small smudges of fog remained hanging in the cooler shaded areas. She wrapped her arms around herself. Even in the soft robe, the morning was chilly.
“Good morrow, m’lady.”
She turned. “Good morning, Jeannie.”
“Did you sleep well? I’ve brought you a cup of tea and some fresh clothes to wear. How is your leg this morning?” Jeannie put the tea on the table.
“My leg feels fine, a bit tender and achy but nothing serious. Thank you again.” Rebeka washed up in the basin, put on more salve and looked at the clothes Jeannie brought. Blend in. Well, when in Rome… She slipped into the clothes as Jeannie busied herself in the room. The chemise was very fine white linen embroidered with the smallest pink rosebuds around the neckline and hem, followed by a pale green petticoat, and finally the dark green cotton gown. Jeannie fastened up the back of the gown, adjusted the top of the chemise to peek over the bodice and tucked up the hem of the gown on one side to show the petticoat.
“Well, m’lady, this color suits you. I was concerned about the fit on the top. You are a bit chestier than most, but you fill out the gown well.”
Rebeka stood in front of the long mirror to get a good look. She admitted the dress fit her pretty well. She sat down at the small table to have her tea.
“Here, m’lady, let me help you with your hair.” Without waiting, Jeannie went about combing Rebeka’s hair, sweeping it up.
“Logan said he would meet you at the top of the stairs to take you to the hall to break the morning fast. The family is there, Lord Arik of course, and Skylar and Aubrey, Lord Arik’s orphaned nieces, and Lady Katherine, a distant cousin. Logan told his nieces all about you and they’re excited to meet you. Guests don’t come here often so your being here is a great event. Skylar hopes you can tell her what the women in court are wearing. Logan on the other hand has told everyone about your ordeal with the thieves on the road. Aubrey already wants to invite you to the summer harvest festival and she is talking about taking you around the Manor to show you everything. Doward stayed the night as he often does and will also be breaking the fast with you. There, m’lady, done.”
“You told me about everyone but Lady Katherine.”
“She didn’t tell me anything but to hurry up and not forget my chores.” It was obvious from Jeannie’s tone she didn’t care for Lady Katherine.
“Well then, I’ll go and find Logan so you can get on with your chores. Thank you, Jeannie, for all your help.”
Logan stood at the head of the stairs propped against the wall, waiting for her.
She took a good look at him as he straightened to his full height. As she came near, she saw his broad welcoming smile. He was in his early twenties, tall, about six feet, with a lean but solid build. His dark short hair and mesmerizing blue-green eyes—so like his brothers—would make any coed’s heart stop, and his smile would make them weak. He was definitely a candidate for the big man on campus.
“Good morrow.” Taking her arm, he led her down the stairs toward the hall. “I hope you slept well.” He spoke easily. “I have to warn you, my nieces are eager to talk to you.”
“I’m eager to meet them too.”
“I’ve brought our other house guest, Lady Rebeka, to break the fast with us,” said Logan as they entered the Great Hall.
The conve
rsation stopped and all heads turned toward Logan and Rebeka. She felt Arik’s eyes on her as soon as she entered the room. Her skin sizzled as the heat of his gaze followed her across the hall. She stole a glance and saw his eyes focused on the pink rosebuds on her bodice. Logan seated her between himself and his brother.
Arik’s voice filled the silence. “I hope you slept well,” he said as he began to eat.
Rebeka took the offered seat. Arik was commanding on their trek, but he was compelling sitting at his table. She caught a whiff of cinnamon and bay with a touch of something sweet. She took a deeper breath. Ah, yes, it was honeysuckle. Through the rain and sweat yesterday, the fragrance had clung to him.
“Yes, Arik, thank you. I did. And please, call me Rebeka.”
The woman beside Arik gasped. Rebeka sighed inwardly—would she ever get the hang of what she should and shouldn’t say?
Smoothly ignoring her faux pas Logan spoke up. “Rebeka, let me introduce you to everyone. This is Lady Katherine, our cousin. These are my nieces Skylar and Aubrey. You know Doward.”
“Good morrow, Rebeka. You look well after yesterday’s ordeal,” said Doward.
“I’m Aubrey.” Rebeka faced a young girl about twelve with large ice-blue eyes, brimming with excitement. The pretty oval face was framed with jet-black hair that fell in a riot of untamed curls down her back. She sat at the edge of her seat, giving Rebeka the impression she would dash up to her any minute. “We’re so glad you’re visiting us.”
“And I’m Skylar.” Rebeka focused on a beautiful young woman, about sixteen. The girls looked very similar only with different coloring. Skylar’s hair was a rich mahogany-brown with touches of gold, her eyes a beautiful dark green. Skylar too seemed excited but in a more sophisticated way. Rebeka watched as Skylar gently pulled Aubrey back on her chair. “I too am glad you’re visiting us.”
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